Chapter 6
A/N: I am so sorry this took so long! I've been really busy with school, but now that exams are over, I will be updating much faster.
Edmund blinked at the hag in the cell across from him in confusion. "I want to know how the Witch has returned," Edmund said in the voice that few people refused, the voice of a king. He was feeling much better, now. The dizziness still stung at the back of his head, but the pain was lessened.
The hag cackled, then abruptly stopped, studying him, hands clenching tightly to the bars as if she would break bars that had held giants with her hands. "Wouldn't you just?"
Edmund remembered her then, the hag from his dreams who stood at the Stone Table cackling and tying him up before the Witch arrived to finished him off. "Death to traitors!" Edmund stiffened.
The hag's lips hadn't moved, but he had heard the words clearly.
"Tell me what you know," Edmund ground out, reaching for his sword in threat before realizing that it wasn't there. He'd never put it on this morning. Peter would have scolded him for his carelessness.
The hag grinned, cocking her head at him. "And what shall I have in return? Your brother is a much better negotiator."
Edmund just stared at her. "Tell me and I'll make sure Peter doesn't have you executed," he promised, knowing it would be a difficult promise to keep, but the words were out before he could stop them and he knew of nothing else that would motivate her.
"What, so I can languish in this cell for the rest of my days? You'll have to do better than that, little king. Besides, if I wanted to leave here, don't you think I would have by now?" the hag grinned at the open confusion on his face.
"I don't understand-," he began, but he got no further than that before a figure emerged in the darkness behind him and the hag began her chanting.
The hag muttered, a low, eerie sound, and the words died on Edmund's lips. He could only stare at her, shocked, as the words grew lower and louder, whirling around him, choking him. He felt as though he were being strangled with invisible hands. He tried to cry out for help from the guards, who weren't very far away, but no sound would come.
The hag's words grew louder, and then strong arms wrapped around his throat, real arms this time, the arms of a minotaur. Edmund barely had enough time to wonder what a minotaur was doing down here before everything went black.
The minotaur let go of Edmund and he fell silently to the ground, slumping forward and lying still.
"Her Majesty will reward her faithful," the minotaur intoned to the hag, repeating words the White Witch had told him, and then picked up the Just King and slung him over his shoulders. He was quite light, even for a son of Adam.
The hag smiled evilly, but as the minotaur left her in the dungeons alone, taking the boy with him, her smile slowly faded.
ǁ
Lucy went to her bed chambers after breakfast, attempting to knit like Susan had suggested. She'd wanted to help prepare for upcoming conflict, perhaps send messages to Narnians who weren't living close enough to have heard yet, but Peter had insisted she stay inside, where she was safe from the Witch. Lucy had pointed out that no one was safe from the Witch, and there really wasn't much difference where she was, inside or outside, and Peter had snapped at her to stop being such a child. A child!
Peter had gone to talk with Oreius, and Susan was...somewhere, Lucy forgot where. Susan insisted she needed to learn to sew far better, though Lucy couldn't imagine why, in such a time as this. She would much rather be with the healers, or at least practicing her knife.
Tumnus stood behind her, hand covering his lips to try and hide his smile. He was supervising the Valiant Queen, the closest thing to a guard that she would accept, even with the threat of the White Witch's return.
"Oh, it's of no use," Lucy muttered hopelessly, setting aside the shirt she was working on. At least, she thought it was supposed to be a shirt. It looked much more like a shirt before she had started.
Tumnus stepped forward. "I'm sure you'll get better at it with time," he consoled her.
"I haven't gotten better at it in the whole time I've been Queen," Lucy said sadly, her lower lip jutting out into a slight pout, but the look on Tumnus' face caused her to grin again. "You're teasing me, aren't you?" She stood up.
Tumnus laughed outright then. "I do not believe you have a future as a great seamstress, my lady," he said, once he finally managed to stop laughing.
Lucy tried to pretend like this upset her, but could hardly say it did. She was too tense about the Queen's return, too annoyed that no one would let her do anything to help. She only hoped Susan would finally see sense and stop bothering her about it once she saw the remains of the shirt. "Come on, Mr. Tumnus, let's go and find something more important to do."
Tumnus blinked, knowing well that mischievous look. "Like what, Your Highness?"
"Oh, now you know I've asked you not to call me that," Lucy admonished, linking his elbow with hers and patting it gently as she led him out of the room. She tried to think of something along the way.
Vaguely, the idea of playing hide and seek slipped into her thoughts, and she shook it out. She hadn't played hide and seek since it had led here, so long ago. Lucy had never really thought of it before, but she wondered now if there was someplace here that would lead her into a different land.
Maybe they could find it and throw the Witch inside.
They walked down the hall until they reached the great staircase. "Up or down?" Lucy asked the faun with a smile.
The faun bit his lip, thinking hard. "Well, if we go down I fear we might run into Susan, who's recruiting people to learn archery in the event that-," he blinked a few times, unable to continue.
Lucy didn't notice. Her back was turned to him, and she extracted herself from his arm. "Well, up it is, then." She started walking up the stairs, and had already climbed five before she realized that Mr. Tumnus wasn't following.
Turning slowly, she cast worried eyes on him. "Mr. Tumnus!" she cried.
Tumnus was crying unashamedly at the base of the stairs, his lower lip quivering. His hooves scuffed against the marble floor. He reached for the handkerchief that Lucy had given him all those years ago at his side before remembering he had returned it to her when Edmund fell ill.
Looking up, he found the Valiant Queen standing before him once more, holding the white hankie out to him with a sad smile. "There, there," she whispered as he grasped it in his hand, squeezing the handkerchief tightly but not using it. "Mr. Tumnus, whatever is the matter?"
Tumnus sighed, wiping at his eyes and handing the handkerchief back to Lucy before answering. "This is all my fault. The White Witch-I should have-"
"No!" Lucy cried out in horror, taking a step closer. "How is any of this your fault, Master Faun?" she said the title in an attempt to cheer him, but it only made him cry harder.
"If I had only refused to work for the Witch, hadn't tried to kidnap you-then King Edmund never would have-and then she wouldn't be-"
"You don't know that," Lucy interrupted, drying his tears with the back of her hand. "The White Witch would have turned you to stone much earlier if you had refused to..." realizing this wasn't helping, Lucy changed her tactic. "Look at me, Mr. Tumnus."
Tumnus glanced up at her with sad eyes. She gave him a hesitant smile, trying not to cry herself. When are you coming back, Aslan? Unlike her siblings, Lucy had no doubt that Aslan would, indeed, return, but she was beginning to wonder how long it would take for him to do so.
"Edmund would still have betrayed us to the Witch even if you had never found me, and we have all long since forgiven him. Surely you do not think we would not forgive you. Besides, you have both redeemed yourself fully, I think. I've always thought of you as my friend." She lifted the handkerchief to his eyes once more, brushing away another tear.
Once Mr. Tumnus had properly composed himself, he smiled at her. "Thank you, Queen Lucy."
"Speaking of Edmund," Lucy spoke up, realizing she hadn't seen her brother since breakfast, "Where is he? I'd imagine he'd have left Phillip by now. It's well past noon."
Mr. Tumnus sighed. "Well, down it is then. We'll have to sneak past Susan to reach the stables. She won't be happy if she finds out you're neglecting your sewing."
Lucy grinned. "Edmund owes us one. She'll probably be too busy practicing with her bow to notice us, though. Hopefully."
They started down the stairs, giggling until they reached the bottom step onto the main floor, where they ran into Susan, wearing full battle dress with a bow slung over her shoulder. She looked surprised, but pleased, to see her younger sister, and Lucy did not like the smile on her face.
"Lucy," she said, pausing and giving her youngest sibling a strange look. "I was just coming to look for you. Do you have your knife with you? What with the Witch's return, she will most certainly come after Cair first, and we need to be prepared for anything, and I just remembered you haven't practiced in a long while. I managed to talk Peter into letting you practice with us, as long as I keep my eye on you at all times."
In an effort to change the subject, Lucy exclaimed, "I was just going to look for Edmund. He should be preparing too, you know."
Susan shook her head, reaching out and grabbing Lucy's arm to keep her from running off. "Edmund is sick, and besides, Edmund practices with his sword just about every day, young lady, whereas I haven't seen you pick up the knife Father Christmas gave you since the Battle of Beruna."
Lucy rolled her eyes. "Oh, you just haven't been paying attention. I use it more than you know." She turned pleading eyes on Tumnus for help, but the faun just scuffled his hooves and stared down at them as if they were suddenly very interesting.
"Good," Susan muttered, dragging Lucy all the way down the stairs and towards the door, exiting the castle, "then you can show me how you're getting along. And weren't you supposed to be upstairs knitting anyway?"
Lucy groaned, her thoughts of Edmund long forgotten.
ǁ
Peter rubbed his forehead as he listened to the eagle's report. The eagle had just returned from the Western Wood, where he had spoken to the seer amongst the centaurs, and had demanded to speak directly to the High King, in his council room where Peter already was, along with his centaur general.
"Then we must prepare for war," he said softly, dreading the words even as he spoke them. It was the only option.
"Now, wait a moment, Your Majesty, I understand we need to be prepared for her but," Oreius held up a hand and turned to the eagle once more. "Could you repeat that message?"
The eagle ruffled its feathers. "The centaur I spoke to, the old seer Turion, said he had seen a vision. It was of a foul creature, he told me, something of a snake or a great dog, or a mix between the two, rising into the sky like one of the stars. The foul creature then began to attack the other stars, in particular the Lady of Peace, choking her until she fell from the heavens."
Peter grimaced, turning to Orieus. "Isn't that clear enough?"
Orieus did not respond for a moment. When he finally spoke, it was to the eagle. "Did this Turion say whether this was what would be or what may be?"
The eagle shook his great head. "He did not, he only said what he saw, and that I must hurry back, for you are about to be in grave danger."
Peter's head jerked up at this news. "Has anyone discovered the whereabouts of the witch yet?" he demanded.
The eagle sighed. He glanced down at his talons, and if it was possible for feathers to blush, the eagle did so. "There are only rumors, Your Highness. No actually sighting."
"What sort of rumors?" Peter was standing now, running a hand through sandy blonde hair in worry.
The eagle glanced at Oreius. The High King had barely slept, too filled with worry, since the announcement of the Witch's return, and that lack of sleep was beginning to show. Oreius wondered briefly where the Just King was, if he was still ill from when he had collapsed. Edmund would have been able to keep Peter functioning far better than this.
"A hare said he'd seen a pack of dwarves traveling back from Archenland, and spied on them during their dinner, talking about how the Tisroc was very pleased and She would reward them. There are others who also think that the Witch has gone South, into Calormene and made an alliance with the Tisroc against Narnia. It is no secret, his distaste for the Kings and Queens."
Even in his current exhausted state, Peter waved this away. "No, the Witch would never enter into an alliance with the Tisroc; they hated each other long before we arrived in Narnia. No, she is here somewhere, nearby. The cold would not be so great if she were across a desert from us."
Even as he said the words, Peter shivered, pulling the white fur he wore closer around his shoulders. He looked up, ignoring Oreius and the rest of the council as he glanced out the window, drawn tightly shut.
It was getting colder. Summer had retreated into the frosty bite of autumn in the course of a few days, despite it still being the growing season. But it was not some strange phenomena of the weather that brought this about; no, it was still cold inside the building, with the fire raging in the hearth. Edmund had complained about it last night and that was the first time Peter noticed.
It had to be a sign of the Witch.
Peter's teeth chattered in a very un-kingly manner, but the creatures sitting around him, attempting to come to some sort of decision about all this, pretended not to notice.
And that was even more strange. Peter had not noticed the cold until today when he woke up in Edmund's bedroom. He had worn warm clothes to breakfast, and noticed that Susan did the same. It had helped then, but it wasn't helping now. Lucy had commented on it, wondering how either of them could want to wear wintery clothes in the middle of summer, barely wearing anything at all and still seeming hot.
Edmund had been shivering despite the warm clothes all through breakfast.
Oreius cleared his throat, and Peter forced himself back to the matter at hand, noting that no one else appeared to be affected by the strange wintery feeling.
"There are some who say they have seen creatures coming down from the North, creatures that have not come down into Narnia since before the Golden Age. The giants are getting restless. The trees to the north...sense evil."
"Send out your sons," Peter ordered the eagle, standing and reaching for his sword, Wolf's Bane. He pulled it out and stared at it, glinting in the brilliant light. "Find out if there is anything to these rumors about the north."
"Your Majesty," Oreius spoke up, "The Witch is probably biding her time, waiting until she is strong enough to attack. There is no use avoiding a confrontation with her, but if we were to attack now, while she is still weak, we may be able to defeat her."
The High King nodded to him, forcing himself to remain calm. Without Aslan's help, Aslan, who had been the one to defeat the witch before, how would they defeat her now? "Then that must be our course of action," he said slowly, returning the sword to its sheath. "Don't announce all this to Narnia, but they already know she is here somewhere. Gather as many creatures as you can to join in our army." His expression turned solemn. "I fear it will not be enough."
Oreius bowed and strode out of the room, the eagle flying out the window once again, leaving Peter to his thoughts.
They would never be able to defeat the White Witch without Aslan, he knew this. He still remembered every aching moment of that fight with her, how hard it had been. Yes, he was a much better swordsman now, but would it be enough? Aslan had been gone so long, and Peter feared he had abandoned them, not to return again now that he thought everything was alright here.
Sighing, Peter got up. Oreius would take care of the army, gather more troops. Peter would be very busy in the next few days. He wanted to find Edmund, to check on him. If he was this cold, he could only imagine how freezing Edmund was.
He didn't dare to think of where the cold was coming from.
And they needed to talk, anyway. He hadn't even gotten a chance to talk about everything that had happened since the boy had turned to stone, and he knew how Edmund would be handling it. He would blame himself, and he would be horrified that the White Witch was back, the White Witch who had been haunting his dreams for the past five years.
Peter went to the stables to find Phillip and ask him where his little brother was now. Surely he hadn't spent the whole day with Phillip, had he? After all, Peter had forbidden him from riding. If Ed had gone riding anyway, Peter would kill him. And Phillip.
Peter hurried down the palace steps, stumbling down a few until he was outside, breathing in a merciful breath of warm air. It enveloped him, and suddenly he felt hot in the warm clothes and furs that he was wearing.
He shrugged off the fur, slinging it over a pole, and watched as Susan trained the recruits in archery.
Peter smiled. Susan was in her natural element, and he could see Lucy off to the side, still grumbling about having to be out here at all, but secretly happy that she was doing something useful. His sisters were taking the return of the Witch well, staying strong so as to impart courage to the creatures of Narnia. Other than his sisters, he didn't recognize most of the creatures out practicing.
Turning to the stables, Peter smirked at the fact that he was High King. Unlike his baby sister, he didn't have to be out here practicing in the hot sun for Susan.
Hello, when had it gotten hot out here? Just moments ago he was shivering.
He reached the stables and stepped nimbly inside, over the straw littering the ground. But even the straw was beautiful, mostly kept neat. The stalls were all open so that the horses could get out if they wished to, and the finest sugar cubes were kept in a box on the wall where the horses could easily reach them if they wished. Edmund insisted that the stables be at their finest at all times, since they housed some of the finest beasts in Narnia.
Peter thought that was mostly Phillip talking through Edmund.
There were not many talking horses who stayed in the stables, despite the fine accommodations, however. Most of them couldn't bear the thought of it. They had only allowed a rider during the fight with the Witch because they were at war, and now that Narnia had been in a time of peace-until recently-they found it an affront to their pride to have a rider.
Except for Phillip. Edmund had been a great teacher in humility to the talking horse, and when the war was over, Phillip had been a great teacher and friend for Edmund. Peter was glad they had each other, even if he was slightly jealous.
He walked to the stall that Phillip usually occupied, and, to his slight surprise, found it empty of his brother, although Phillip was reclining comfortably in it. He glanced up when the High King entered his stall.
"Majesty," he greeted. He never greeted Edmund so respectfully these days. The horse let out a sound that could have been a laugh as Peter reached up and pet him, but his eyes flashed with worry. "Have you seen King Edmund?" the horse asked. "I heard he was ill, and I've been so worried down here."
Peter's hand froze in the middle of his petting. "What? But...I thought he was down here, with you. He told us he wanted to see you this morning."
Phillip shook his mane out from under Peter's hand, which was tightening in the hair in worry. "I haven't seen him all day. In fact, I didn't see him all day yesterday, either, and I'm getting worried about that young colt."
Peter sighed, instantly feeling guilty for letting the sick boy out of his sight. "I should have made him stay with me this morning."
"Your Majesty?" Phillip asked, the worry in his eyes running through the rest of his body at those words. He stamped a hoof. "Where is Edmund?"
"I-I don't know," Peter whispered, and then ran out of the stall and then out of the stables, leaving Phillip to his worry. Phillip thought about going after him, but decided to wait until the High King actually knew something. Edmund had probably just gone off to be alone.
Peter ran until he reached Susan and Lucy, pushing aside the recruits, not caring how un-kingly he looked with dung on his shoes and sweat on his face, and the rather wild look in his eyes.
Susan was instructing a badger on how to shoot with a crossbow rather than the old-fashioned bow and arrows. The badger shot an arrow and it flew hazardously through the air, landing in the ground quite near Peter's feet. He swallowed and jumped out of the way.
Edmund would be fine. He had just forgotten to visit Phillip, had gone somewhere else instead. Everything was fine.
Peter would have believed that a year ago, but not today. Not with the White Witch on the loose somewhere.
When he reached Susan and Lucy out in the middle of the field behind Cair, he was panting for breath. The badger apologized profusely before setting down the crossbow and returning to the bow he had before. Susan sighed hopelessly.
His sisters looked up at him, surprise written on their faces. Lucy looked more than a little pleased to have some reason to get out of practicing with her knife. She tucked the blade carefully back into its sheath, although this did not escape Susan's notice, who frowned at the younger girl.
"Have you seen Edmund since breakfast?" the High King demanded when he finally slowed to a halt, not bothering to be pleasant. The other creatures stopped in their tracks, weapons and targets forgotten, turning around and listening in at the frightened tone of voice that Peter used.
Susan and Lucy exchanged glances. "I thought he was with Phillip," Susan began in a low voice so that no one else could hear, but Peter cut her off impatiently.
"Phillip hasn't seen Edmund all day. Either he had no intention of going there, or he never made it to the stables."
Susan's forehead crinkled. "I have been out here since after breakfast, and I haven't seen him."
"Neither have I," Lucy agreed, sounding worried for the first time since...well, since Peter could ever remember. Lucy never worried.
Peter sighed. "I suppose that means I'd better go and look for him," he said softly. He turned away from the girls, not wanting to admit that he had no idea where to start.
"I'll go with you," Susan suggested, handing Lucy her bow and arrows.
Lucy set these on the ground and brushed her hair behind her ears stubbornly. "I'm coming, too."
"No, you're not," Susan corrected, placing a hand on her sister's arm and glancing around at all the talking beasts watching them with worry, wondering what they were talking about. "You're staying right here, where Tumnus can keep an eye on you. We can't all run off. It would scare Narnia."
Lucy pouted, but stayed.
The two oldest monarchs of Narnia hurried back to Cair, not running so as to worry the creatures watching them, but at a brisk pace. Peter didn't trust himself to speak. First the White Witch was here, and now Edmund was missing...this all sounded eerily familiar.
"Where could he have gone?" Susan asked, not daring to voice the thoughts running through Peter's mind, thoughts of the last time Edmund had disappeared. "He wouldn't have wandered off by himself..." No, he never did that anymore.
"I'll check the lower levels of the palace, you check upstairs," Peter said, leaving no room for argument. He grabbed her arm, spinning her back towards him. "We'll find him, Su."
Susan just stared at him. She hated herself for the feeling of betrayal seeping into her heart. Edmund would never do that to them now, and she had forgiven him for doing it the first time. She hated that that was her first thought, that she gave Edmund so little of a chance at redemption. Lucy would never have thought such a thing. She didn't even think Peter would have. Then she broke free of Peter's grip and entered the palace, heading upstairs. "We'd better. But when we do, I'm gonna kill him."
Peter couldn't resist a smile as he headed downstairs.
ǁ
"Time to wake up, little king," the voice was mocking and falsely-cheerful, and surprisingly close. Edmund moaned and tried to push away the sound with a hand, before realizing that his hands wouldn't move, and that whatever was holding them down hurt.
He groaned, trying to pretend he was still asleep, hoping that if he did, whoever had bound his hands so tightly would leave him alone.
"Oh? Is the little king so great that he can ignore even me now? Come on, Just King, I know you are awake," the voice was low and familiar, angry now, and Edmund felt a chill run down his spine. His eyes snapped open.
He was cold, but not like he had been back at Cair. This was a natural kind of cold, cold like Narnia in winter. In winter...
His whole body felt as if he were lying naked on ice...
Edmund glanced around and let out a small, terrified gasp.
He was lying on ice. Lying on ice in the middle of a room, built out of ice and iron and with a ceiling that seemed to reach to the sky. He knew this room well, and, in a fit of fear, Edmund scrambled to his feet, tripping over them and falling down on his face once more when he realized they had been chained together at the ankles.
He struggled to his feet a second time, to the great amusement of his captor. This time, he managed to stay upright, though his legs were quaking and everything hurt.
Suddenly, Edmund doubled over in pain, grasping at his stomach as a blast of blinding pain hit him. It was ten times worse than what he had been feeling earlier, a result of the hag's chanting, he inferred.
The voice that had spoken a moment ago laughed in mirth, sounding like clinking glass, and Edmund raised his bound hands to his forehead, fighting off the dizziness that assaulted him.
His hands were bound with strong, but thin cords, so tightly they were digging into the skin of his wrists, cutting them open. He could barely move his left hand an inch from his right.
The heavy furs he had been wearing before were gone now. He was only wearing his tunic and a pair of trousers, along with knickers. His shoes had been taken, as well.
Edmund glanced up fearfully, knowing who had spoken only a moment ago, but his mind was in denial of the fact. She couldn't be real; she was dead. This was just another nightmare-
The White Witch stood before him, only a few feet away, in all her splendor. She wore a heavy gown of white, her feet hidden beneath it, her hair plaited and falling over her shoulder. The smile she awarded him made his insides churn.
This was just another nightmare, it couldn't be real, she couldn't be real, Peter would wake him up any moment now...
She was holding the wand in both her hands, a subtle threat. The source of all his nightmares for the past five years was standing on the lowest step leading up to her throne, a throne that Edmund remembered with much more splendor. Now, it was nearly melted, metal sticking out of the back in sharp spikes, looking more like the door to a cell than a throne.
The thick layer of ice serving as the armrests convinced him that the throne would not remain in this deteriorated state for long. Already, he could hear the Witch's castle groaning as her magic took effect, rendering it into the majestic ice palace it had once been. Ice curled around metal hinges, spreading up through the ceiling and down into the floor.
Despite his best efforts to conceal it, Edmund shivered, and it was not from the cold.
He hadn't come here since the Witch's demise. Peter and Lucy had, a few times, and had reported how different the castle looked, barely threatening anymore, all the ice gone. One time, after a particularly bad nightmare, Susan suggested they go to the castle, just to put Edmund's fears to rest.
"You'll see it and feel better, Ed," Susan had pleaded. "You'll see she's powerless. She can't hurt you anymore."
The words that had been Edmund's lifeline for the past five years were so empty now, and the terror that he had tried his best to quell was rising to the surface once more.
The castle was hardly a remnant of the past anymore. Somehow, with her magic, the Witch had made it almost as terrifying and beautiful as if it had never melted, as if she had never been defeated...
Do you see those two hills?
Edmund shuddered. Were the stone statues all returned, as well?
"Have you missed me, Son of Adam?"