Finding Narnia
A Chronicles of Narnia Fanfiction by Darkened-Storm
Disclaimer: I, Darkened-Storm, own only my plot, ideas and characters. C.S Lewis owns The Chronicles of Narnia: the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Any characters you do not recognise from his series, including Stephanie and Rebecca Pevensie, are my creations.
Note: I sincerely apologise for the lack if updates this month - it was my last month of uni and there were so many assignments due. I took a break to finish this at last!
Chapter Eight: The Wolves!
"Hurry mother! They're after us!" Mr Beaver bellowed, pushing through the door into the little house. Mrs Beaver was standing in the kitchen waiting. When she saw them barge through the door she clasped her paws together and hurried to the kitchen cupboard.
"What's she doing?" Peter asked incredulously, but Mr Beaver could only throw his paws up in the air and shrug.
"Oh, you'll be thanking me later," Mrs Beaver said and she gathered up some loaves of bread and loaded them onto the tiny kitchen table. Susan and Becky ran to help her, loading everything Mrs Beaver laid out into seven bags, three of them a great deal smaller than the rest. "It's a long journey and Beaver gets pretty cranky when he's hungry."
"I'm cranky now!" Mr Beaver exclaimed, waving his hands again, but Mrs Beaver just ignored him and continued to fuss about and a loud howl echoed outside the little house.
"What was that?" Becky asked, shivering.
"The Wolves," Mr Beaver said. "They're her secret police. We have to get into the tunnels before they find us." He crossed the room and slapped at the floor with his tail. The wood shuddered, revealing a secret door.
Susan rushed to help Mrs Beaver in the kitchen. "Do you think we'll need jam?" she asked.
Peter stared at her incredulously. "Only if the witch serves toast!" he exclaimed.
Susan shot him a furious look but a loud growl from outside the house cut her off before she could retort.
"They're getting closer," Becky exclaimed, wringing her hands. "Oh can we go now?"
Mrs Beaver finished packing and handed each of them a bag, saving the smallest for Lucy. Steph slung her bag over her shoulder and helped Becky with hers. Mr Beaver ushered them all towards the wall of the house.
Mrs Beaver paused, looking around her home one last time. "I suppose the sewing machine's too heavy to bring?"
"Yes. It is," said Mr Beaver, crossing his paws over his chest. "A great deal too heavy!"
"Oh, come on," Steph said anxiously. She could hear the wolves scrambling about outside the little house, their paws scratching on the wooden logs. They'd be trapped if they didn't escape now!
"In here," Beaver told them, and he pulled open the secret door in the floor of the little house. "Grab the torches, it's dark down here." Peter thrust oil lanterns into Steph and Susan's hands and took a long wooden torch which he lit the end of for himself.
They bundled through the door and hurried through the tunnel in single file. Mr Beaver went first, and Peter went after him. Steph and Becky went next, then Susan and Lucy while Mrs Beaver brought up the rear. It was a difficult trek – the tunnel was small and Peter had to lean his head forward so that he didn't knock it on the roof of the tunnel.
"Badger and me dug this," Mr Beaver told them as he ran. "It comes out right near his place."
"You told me it lead to your Mum's," Mrs Beaver scolded from behind them and if it had been any other time (particularly when they weren't being chased by a pack of wolves) Steph would have laughed at the banter between the two, but as it was, she needed all her energy to run through the tunnel.
She had no trouble keeping up with Peter because she didn't have to crouch half as much as he did but it was still difficult trying to run and duck under a low roof at the same time. Only Lucy could stand upright, and even then she was hampered by the odd tree root that tripped her up.
"Lucy!" Susan exclaimed when Lucy tumbled to the floor.
"Shh!" Becky hissed, holding up her hand so they could all hear the barking in the distance. It wasn't muffled now.
"They're in the tunnel," Lucy whispered.
"Quick, this way," said Mr Beaver.
"Move," Steph urged her sister along. The Beavers were far ahead now – they could move much faster on four legs in the tunnel than they could but Peter kept close behind, shouting to the girls to run. They ran faster, bumping their heads on the low ceiling. They stopped when they came to a fork in the tunnel. Mr Beaver looked left and right and Steph had the horrible feeling he was lost.
"You should have brought a map," his wife told him.
"There wasn't room next to the jam," Mr Beaver replied and chose left. They all scrambled after him until they reached what Steph thought was a dead end except that Mr Beaver pushed aside the dirt and clambered out of a small hole into the open.
"Go," Peter instructed them, pushing Becky through next and Steph after her.
"Peter," Steph exclaimed when he didn't follow after her. Why was he stopping?
"Just go," he yelled to her, ushering his sisters after her. "Take them and go." Then she lost sight of him as Susan crawled through the hole, pulling her sister behind and telling her to hurry. Then Peter climbed out at last, without his torch, and help Mr Beaver roll a large barrel in front of the hole.
The sounds of the wolves died away the moment the entrance was covered and they all stumbled away. Steph collapsed in the snow, too tired to care that it was freezing and felt Becky sink into the snow beside her. The muscles in Steph's legs ached from running and her neck and back hurt from having to crouch for so long in the Beaver's House and then in the tunnel.
Becky was squeezing her hand so tightly, Steph was starting to lose feeling in her fingers. She made to wriggle her fingers free, but Becky pointed to something in the snow. "Look," she whispered, her voice trembling.
They were standing in the middle of a small cluster of houses, each of them about the size of the Beavers' Lodge and, like Mr Tumnus's cave they were all dark and long abandoned – only statues of animals remained behind. Steph took a step closer to the nearest one, a pig that was as tall as her chest.
They're Narnians, she realised, a horrible feeling in stomach.
Peter was the first to find his voice. He turned to Mr Beaver and asked; "What happened here?"
"This is what becomes of those who cross the Witch," a new voice spoke from behind them and they all looked around to see a red fox standing on one of the smallest houses.
Lucy gave a start of surprise and Becky screamed, clutching Steph's hand again and Peter instinctively drew them all behind him and splayed his hands out in front of them protectively. Mr Beaver lunged forward and they all thought he was about to take the Fox except that Mrs Beaver grabbed him and heaved him back.
The fox smiled and leap down from the roof. "Relax," he said with a nervous chuckle. "I'm one of the good guys."
Mr Beaver didn't lower his paws. "You look an awful lot like one of the bad ones."
The fox sighed. "An unfortunate family resemblance," he admitted reluctantly, "but we can argue breeding later. Right now, we've got to move."
Peter lowered his hands. "What did you have in mind?"
The fox grinned, please with his answer and lifted a paw to point up. At first Steph thought he meant for them to hide on top of the houses as the fox had done, which wouldn't hide them well at all, but then she realised that he was looking even higher than that, up into the large oak tree that stood behind them, stretching high into the sky.
"You want us the climb the tree?" she guessed.
"You'll never outrun them," the fox told her. "You're going to have to hide. Climb up, all the way up to the top and stay very quiet."
They did as he suggested and Peter gave Susan, Lucy and Becky a boost up into the tree. When Becky was halfway to the third branch, Steph made to follow but stopped when she remembered the fox and looked around.
He wasn't following them. "Aren't you coming?" she asked him. He shook his head.
"Foxes can't climb trees," he told her. "Fortunately, Wolves can't either but some of them will try to claw you down while the rest fetch the Witch. I'll lead them astray – it's your only chance."
Steph thought then that the Fox had to either be lying to them, or he was just a martyr. She decided on the latter, since really, they were out of options. She let Peter give her a boost up so that she could reach the lowest branch and began to climb.
It was tough work. The bark was rough beneath her fingers and she felt a dozen splinters press into her hands before she'd climb passed the second branch.
"Go, King Peter," she heard the Fox say and then Peter was climbing after her. He was better at climbing and caught up to her by the time she reached the third branch. Susan, Becky and Lucy had stopped just above them.
"Higher," Mr Beaver hissed, and they had only just clambered onto the tallest branch when the Wolves burst through the tunnel opening, and surrounded the Fox, snarling and snapping. There were seven of them, all much larger than the biggest dog Steph had ever seen.
"Maugrim," Mr Beaver hissed quietly, and he pointed his paw at the largest wolf. Steph peered over a tree branch to get a better look, but she couldn't hear what they were saying above all the snarls, but she knew whatever they were saying wasn't good for the fox.
The Fox gave a dog-like yelp as the second largest Wolf clamped its jaws around his middle. Lucy gasped and Becky hid her face in Steph's coat so she didn't see.
"Where are the fugatives?" Maugrim snarled.
The fox raised his head with a whimper. "North," he said, loud enough for them to hear from the treetop. "They went north."
"Smell them out," Maugrim barked.