"We need to get going," Peter said after a short while. His face was pale and his hands were shaking. Edmund nodded and got to his feet, retrieving both his and Peters' swords from the ground, where Timothy had returned them after cleaning them on the grass some distance away from the pit. Handing Rhindon to his brother, the younger king rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck and brushed some crumbly dried blood from his tunic.
"I'd say we have a half hour before sunset," he judged, looking up at the sky. Lucy shuddered at the idea of spending a night in such a place.
"Well, I don't think I'm the only one not keen on staying here," said Peter, using his sword to lever himself to his feet unsteadily.
"Given what this place is capable of, I'd much rather stay here, actually," Timothy said. "We've already eliminated – all right, mostly eliminated the danger in this area. What's next could be worse."
"He has a point," Lucy said fairly.
"And it's getting awfully dark," said Edmund.
"And we wouldn't have to sleep on roots here," Lucy put in.
They all stared at Peter, who sighed at last, brushing some hair away from his face.
"Fine," he said. He seemed uncomfortable with the idea, but pulled the pack from his back (which had miraculously stayed intact) and moved a few feet away from the pit edge before sitting down. "We'll stay here for the night."
"As you wish, O High King," Edmund said with a smirk. Peter didn't even bother to look annoyed. The other three of them sat down about him, carefully moving aside scabbards and sore limbs, Ed to his left, Timothy to his right and Lucy across their little circle. They all placed their packs on the ground and shed their cloaks; it was rather warm, but Lucy had no doubts it would get colder as the evening went on.
"Supper?" Lucy said pleasantly, opening her pack and rummaging through its rather squashed contents. It was amazingly odd to think that only four hours ago, they had been safe and comfortable in Tamitha.
"You make it sound like we're sitting down to tea at the Cair," said Edmund, raising an eyebrow. Timothy snorted, and Ed gave him a dark look. "Yes, the Cair. The castle. Cair Paravel, on the eastern shore, Cair Paravel of the four thrones."
Timothy frowned for a moment, his eyes searching the air in front of him for something, then he shrugged.
"As you say," he said dismissively. Then, with more thought, "My old country had its castle on the eastern shore, too."
"Did you ever visit it?" Lucy asked politely as she set some bread and cheese on a handkerchief before him (guests first, even if they weren't at home).
"No," Timothy said, after a moment of thought. "No, I never did. I was the son of a farmer, I think, in the south."
Lucy smiled softly, somewhat sadly – Susan's south. There were some things she couldn't help but relate to her older sister, even if they were unrelated.
"Well I hope you find your way back," she said honestly. "With all your people, too."
"Thank you," he said with a small smile, taking a bite of his meal. The forest around them was making somewhat disturbing noises as they began their meal, but nothing moved to harm them. Some of the shifting and weak squeaking noises from the pit indicated that their previous foe was still alive, though for its own sake Lucy hoped it wouldn't be for long.
"I wonder how Su's holding up," Edmund said after they'd been eating in silence for a while.
"She'll be fine," Lucy said, more confident than she felt. "She knows how to take care of herself."
"True," her brother agreed, his mouth full of cheese. Peter seemed too tired to correct him.
"What's your sister like?" Timothy asked, probably for the sake of conversation. Lucy smiled.
"Oh, she's wonderful," she said, laughing slightly despite their surroundings. "They call her Susan the Gentle in court, but she's so much more than that. She's elegant and dignified and stubborn and everything a good queen ought to be."
Peter was almost grinning by the end of her speech, his exhaustion written in all his posture.
"She is all that," he agreed. "And good in a fight, too. Amazing with a bow and arrow but not bad at all with a short sword, either."
"Seems to run in the family," Timothy commented. "I never yet met a young woman that could use her head like you do, Miss Lucy. And that bottle you carry isn't to be trifled with either."
"I told you it was magic," she said with a smile.
"But I didn't believe you," Timothy confessed. "I do now. And you, Edmund – your swordsmanship's better than any man your age I've seen, to be sure. Kings, Queens or not, you've an incredible family. I must admit I was expecting to be the one holding this group together once we really got into the thick of things, but you barely needed my help now, did you?"
"Thank you," Ed said, somewhat stiffly (he wasn't good with compliments).
"And all I've managed to do is muck things up," Peter said.
"Oh, shut up," Edmund said, rolling his eyes. Nothing more was said on the topic.
As they ate, the sun began to slip beneath the western trees, and a threatening darkness grew with each passing moment. The noises in their surroundings shifted from strange squeals and bird calls to deeper, more rumbling, echoing, frightening noises. When the sun was gone but the moon wasn't quite out yet, a dusky purple settled over the clearing, and the four travelers found themselves glancing around each other nervously. In the day, the Void had been scary. In the night, it was unknown – something even more terrifying.
But when they settled down to sleep with their cloaks wrapped about them, Lucy sandwiched between her brothers and Timothy a little ways off for unspoken reasons, not one of them had any trouble getting to sleep after such a thoroughly exhausting day.