I don't own Narnia or the Pevensies.

Lucy had not realized how often she checked to make sure everything on her belt was in place. It was only when something was missing that she found herself startled by its absence over and over, her hand closing over empty space and a small cry leaving her lips. Her brothers got so used to the noise that when that Lucy tripped over a fallen log and made that same sound, Peter didn't even turn around (Edmund, though, walking behind her, helped her to her feet and brushed her off with gloved hands).

There was little conversation between them that morning. Timothy had been game for idle chat, and though he had never seemed to believe them about being kings and queens, he had had no difficulty swallowing some of Narnia's peculiarities – talking animals, dryads, giants and the like. They hadn't bothered telling him of their ascent to the throne because he was obviously loathe to believe that a country could be led by children, but they had talked about Su often, and their childhood. In turn, he'd tried to tell them about his own past, but it was difficult, given how little he remembered. Still, at least it had been something. Now there was only a heavy silence that hung over them, and a sense of urgency. Three days left.

"What do we do once we reach the city?" Lucy asked, when the squelching and rustling of their feet was not enough to satisfy the appetite of her ears. Ahead of her, Peter gave a shrug. Since the first day, he'd been keeping closer to them, and they closer to him; Lucy feared though that her own slow pace was the deciding one at the moment. But she couldn't help being short.

"We don't know what the city is like, so it's hard to say," said Peter as he climbed up onto a fallen tree that had completely covered their path. "I assume that the king has a castle, and that they'll be keeping Susan somewhere in it. So I suppose we try to find her there."

As Edmund gave Lucy a leg up and Peter swung her onto the top of the fallen tree, Lucy sighed.

"And how do we find her bow and things?" she asked.

"She had them on her when she went out, right?" Edmund asked as he made it up beside them and helped Lucy down into Peter's waiting arms (the split branches on the side were too far apart for her shorter limbs). Peter nodded and helped Ed down, too, just for the sake of it.

"She did," he confirmed. "But who knows what they'll have done with them? They could be anywhere. We'll just have to ask around, I suppose. We know that she was captured by the palace guards. They must have disarmed her."

"I would have liked to see that," Lucy laughed a little as she moved as quickly as she could, trying to keep pace with her frustratingly tall brothers.

"See her disarmed?" Peter asked in bemusement.

"No, no," said Lucy, shaking her head. "To see when she appeared. It must have been a rude shock to them! Imagine Susan showing up and making an easy job out of a few trained men? You know how she is when she's riled."

"Not so gentle," smirked Edmund, hacking away a bramble with his sword. "You're right. That would have been fun to watch."

"Oh, I hope she's all right," Lucy said suddenly, biting her lip in anxiety. Peter's arm was soon around her shoulder as they walked together, squeezing her in a half hug.

"I'm sure she's getting on fine," he said soothingly. "Su is tough. And we're coming for her. At this rate we'll have nearly two days to figure out how – "

- Peter stopped abruptly as his foot slipped a little into one of the ooze ponds, and two spindly green hands took hold of it. Before either of his siblings could react, he kicked out, and the thing let go without a sound, sinking back into the ooze in what Lucy imagined was a sulky, angry manner. It was hard to tell what the thing really looked like.

"I don't want to know what that was," said Peter, rubbing his boot off on the ground, which made it muddy instead of just oozy. Edmund peered into the puddle curiously.

"Take a look," he said after just a moment, pointing a gloved hand down into the muck. Aside from a few floating leaves, Lucy saw nothing, until she followed his finger directly – along the edge of it were several gooey-looking spheres, a sickly pale green in color as they stuck together in a clump. They must have been eggs. Lucy didn't fancy waiting around to find out if they really were. Hurrying along, keeping a safe distance from the puddles now, the three of them hacked, climbed and devised various ways to make their way over the mash of dead and dying things in the Purple's wake.

Once, Lucy discovered a smushed something that looked like it might have been vaguely rabbit-like in life, but it was too unpleasant to look at in death, and so she didn't for very long. But later, when she spotted another casualty of the giant's flight far ahead, she was taken completely by surprise when the same kind of long, brittle hands that had attempted to take Peter's boot down reached completely out of the puddle and seized the furry little dead thing right around the middle. Then the hand retreated back into the puddle, dragging the creature down with it, and with a sucking sound, both disappeared.

"Unpleasant," Edmund commented lightly. Lucy thought it was an understatement.

"I advise against dropping anything in there," said Peter, moving along as if to remind them they still had a job to do. Chuckling, Edmund soon followed, but Lucy remained a moment to peer in after it in fascinated disgust. But when abruptly the hand reached out again, she jumped backwards a little to get her feet out of range, and hurried after her brothers. Rescuing Susan would probably require both feet.