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Chapter 6

"And then Zaylie shot a bullseye!" Lucy finishes the story, grinning as she sticks a piece of bread in her mouth.

I smile back. "You got one, too. And on your first try with a knife! Now that's pretty impressive."

"It was a dagger, actually," the little girl replies, a tiny, smug smile on her lips.

"Right." I laugh and nod. "A dagger."

"Well, congratulations, Lu," Peter says, reaching over to ruffle her hair. "Looks like the girls will be holding their own against the Witch, eh, Ed?"

Edmund's mouth is too full to reply, so he just nods, and his older sister chuckles, grabbing a piece of sweet bread and dipping it in the jar of honey. "We sure will. But I wouldn't be able to do it without Zaylie." Susan smiles over at me. "I'd have never gotten it right without her."

Though I'm honored by the compliment, "I only helped you a bit, Susan. You did most of it by yourself. You're just going to have to face it eventually: you're a natural."

Laughing again, Susan says, "I would hardly call myself a natural, particularly after the archery lessons I took back home."

I raise my eyebrows. "Didn't go well?"

"You could put it that way." Peter tosses his blonde head, grinning at his sister. "Let's just say Dad had a perfectly good reason for giving her only two lessons, and it had absolutely nothing to do with her being a girl."

"It's not like you stuck around long either, Pete," Susan shoots back as Lucy and Edmund snicker.

Peter shrugs. "One class longer than you."

"One class is hardly anything to be proud of. I think Father Christmas had a perfectly good reason for not giving you the bow and arrows."

Our laughter rings out again, and an outsider would never guess we're talking about battle training.

"All right, all right," Peter says. "Truce. We both have our talents. Agreed?"

Susan gives a short nod, smiling as she takes her brother's hand and pumps it up and down. "Agreed."

The next day starts out nicely enough with another great Narnian meal. On Earth, I'd probably have gotten really sick of fruit, rolls, and cheese by now, but there's just something about Narnia, something about being here with the Pevensies, about all the fantastical creatures, about Aslan. With the sweet smell of spring on the breeze and the anticipation of victory in the air, it tastes like Heaven over and over again.

After breakfast, the boys and girls split up again, us girls heading for target practice and the boys for fencing and riding. Just before they leave, Edmund turns to me. "You know Zaylie, we could teach you to ride, too, if you want."

I shake my head. "No thanks, Ed. I've tried riding a few times and I've decided I'm as bad at it as I am good at archery."

He laughs. "I can't imagine that."

"No?"

"Yes, because the one time I saw you ride, you were not that bad."

I roll my eyes because I know I was. "I guess it's a pity your imagination isn't stronger."

Edmund laughs again as he and his brother swing up onto their horses. "You know, Zaylie," Peter says, "he wouldn't have to imagine if he could see you."

"Well, neither of you are going to see me." I throw my bow over my arm and stride away, yelling over my shoulder. "So you're just gonna have to deal with it!"

I can hear them snickering as they ride off, but it's a good snicker, like I'm already part of the Pevensie family. And, for once, I don't mind being the butt of the joke at all.

It's about midmorning, though, when the wonderful day takes a turn for the worst. It starts out with a chilling wind blowing across the prairie, rippling through the brightly-colored flags. I ignore it at first, but then the chill spreads, wrapping its freezing arms around me and sinking into my bones so deeply and so fiercely that I gasp, losing focus, and send one of my arrows way wide. Susan and Lucy turn to stare at me, but it's just so cold, I can't even pay attention to them.

It's like the frigid air has taken over me, starting at my skin, and spreading on throughout my body, sinking into the bone marrow, twisting inside my lungs, and wrenching its way into my heart. My head swims and my stomach clenches, flip-flopping over itself again and again. Just before I retch up my breakfast, a horrible vision flashes before my eyes, and I see her face.

The White Witch.

I'm barely aware of the groan slipping through my lips, of sinking to the ground, of Susan staring anxiously down at me and Lucy calling for help. I curl in on myself, shivering with the cold and the fear. Go away, I whisper to the mental image, desperately wanting to shake it off. Leave me alone.

Thump, thump, thump. Footsteps on the grass. Peter and Edmund's voices. Tarry holding a glass of water to my lips as if that would help. But then the crowd parts, and I sense more than see Aslan striding towards me. "She will be fine," He says, in that deep, authoritative voice, and everyone breathes a sigh of relief.

Kneeling on the ground beside me, he puts his nose to the side of my head, and I feel sheer warmth and new life breathed into me, washing away the cold and the fear. At the same time, a voice tickles inside my soul. Now can you see why you are here?

I want to nod, but I can't move quite yet. I think so. Is she really coming?

He sighs, and I feel His grief falling over me, settling on my shoulders for a bit before He whisks it away again. Yes.

I swallow down the fear starting to rise. When?

Soon.

This time, I do manage to nod, steeling myself for what is to come. So... am I psychic or something now?

I hear His chuckle, but it's not out loud. Or something. You are an Oracle. My Father will send warnings through you for the Kings and Queens. But do not worry; your future visions will not be as physically harsh as this one. The first is always the hardest.

I can deal with that. But, Why can't He use you?

I'm overwhelmed as the warmth is replaced by a great, freezing sadness, so much my heart can hardly bear it. Hold on tight, dear one, is all He says, The next few days will be difficult.

Then He breaks away from my head, and I stand weakly, shooting a small smile at the worried glances of the Pevensies and the others gathered around me.

Edmund opens his mouth, probably to ask what all that was about, but he never gets the chance. For at that very moment, my vision comes true. And the White Witch comes riding up the road.

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