The Underground
"Semper Fidelis" (Always Faithful) ~ Motto of the United States Marines
~o*o~
The only way into Narnia for some time had been a hard grueling route, twisting through the mountains, until Treve found the pass.
Darcy and Shard went to Narnia together, out of necessity. They did not trust each other and they made it clear when they reached the end of the pass they went their own way. Darcy to the Great River Ironworks and Shard to the woods.
~o*o~
Loki was in the barracks, the stables actually. It was a dark place, cold, dank. The palace repelled him, the dark creatures, Minotaurs, slithering dragons and most of all the werewolves, the dark evil smell, the witch herself and his own father. The only things right were the witch's horses.
Loki had never known his mother; he had never heard of her and knew that he wouldn't have existed if it hadn't been for Shard. Sh gruelingard. His uncle, the one that had taught him everything, cared for him and yes, even loved him. It had been that night when Shard left; Loki remembered seeing him, seeing the centaurs and even the four children. He had wanted to go with them, but he never could have. He didn't have the endurance or the speed of his uncle. It had been hard to see his only friend and protector leave him, perhaps forever.
Loki lay in the mud in the barracks and watched the light glitter on the dark eyes of the rats. It was night, time for sleep, but he couldn't sleep.
The white mare was sleeping above him in her stall. He could just see her head, ghostly white in the darkness. The stallion was awake, pacing his stall restlessly. Loki could feel his impatience, the need to walk, so he rose and went up the stairs and out the door.
He went to the throne room. He felt drawn to it somehow. It was the statue, the one on the stairs. He slipped across the huge floor, feeling the cold drafts brushing through his thin coat, going through the long shafts of moonlight. It was nearly midnight.
He stood before the statue, looking up at it. It was marble, cold, unfeeling, but he knew it had been alive once. The face was twisted in horror and guilt; it looked like it could have been a nice face, smooth, the hair just falling over the forehead.
Loki looked up earnestly into that face; then he saw it flicker for a moment. He felt he had imagined it, but it moved again. The mouth closed, the eyes blinked and stared down at him. It was horrible because the statue was still marble, those moving lips, still white as death.
"How long has it been?" it was a rasping whisper.
Loki flinched, "I don't know."
"Every night, midnight, I can speak. It's my rare moment of lucidity." It said. "Who are you?"
"Loki." Loki said. "What's lucidity?"
"Loki," the statue said, then grinned hideously, "I'm Eustace. Lucidity means I'm not out of it anymore."
"Oh…I see," Loki whispered. "You're named Useless?"
"I am that." Eustace said softly, "I'm a traitor."
"A traitor?" Loki asked, "To whom? The witch?"
"Naw, I wish." Eustace said. "It was my cousins, four of them. They're probably all dead now, no, not dead. Living dead."
"No," Loki said, "They're alive. They made it to Archenland. I saw them do it."
The statue closed his eyes and for a moment, Loki thought he would turn to stone again, but he did not.
"Thank goodness," Eustace whispered; then was silent for a moment, "I'm so cold."
Loki pressed up against the statue and felt how cold he really was, it was a deeper cold, more horrible, more penetrating then he had ever felt.
"Thank you," the statue whispered, "It helps. Every night…"
"Every night?" Loki asked.
"Every night she comes…there are pieces of ice…I must spell 'eternity'…"
Suddenly the statue's mouth opened, his head jerked to one side, his hair fell over his forehead and an agonized looked passed over his face before he was still. Stone.
Loki pulled away, painfully, because his coat had frozen to the statue. He looked up, but the statue was silent.
~o*o~
Brant found relief in work. He found relief watching the sparks fly; watching the piece of glowing metal, watching it turn into something beautiful, alive.
He plunged the dagger into a trough of water and saw the light in its heart quench under the billows of steam. It was something, nothing, just a little thing for his son, Rhett.
He held the dagger up, saw it, rough, unfinished, yet full of life. He dropped it on his bench and wiped is hands on a rag, turning. He caught sight of something dark, crouching in the doorway and watched while it rose and stalked towards him. Golden eyes, dark gleaming body like black velvet and silken paws on the dirt floor that was blackened with soot and age.
"Lord Darcy," Brant said.
"It is I," Lord Darcy crouched again, his eyes half closed. "The children from the prophecy are in Archenland."
"Do not jest."
"I do not." Darcy purred, "They have sent me to you with orders."
"Orders?" Brant asked. "I take orders form no man. Prove who they are."
"They were sent by Aslan from another world." Darcy's eyes were golden slits, "I have seen them and I believe that what they do is right."
"What do they wish me to do?" Brant asked. "If it is for the good of Narnia then I will do it."
"It is for Narnia," Darcy purred. "They wish you to arm Narnia. Make weapons, armor and distribute it secretly. Enlist the help of the other smithies in Narnia and do not fail them. The great prophet Equus has said that they will invade by next spring."
"There is a spy in the witch's castle that will be working for Narnia. He will report to you and you will deliver his reports to a messenger that we will send every week. The spy is a young wolf named Loki. Your password is this: 'when Aslan shakes his mane it will be spring again.'" Darcy stretched. "Now a personal warning, learn this spy before you trust him. Wolves are sly."
Brant picked up the half-made dagger with tongs and thrust it back in the fire.
"You will do it, then?" Darcy asked.
"I take orders from no man." Brant said stubbornly, but from the square of his stocky shoulders, he would do it.
~o*o~
Loki did not sleep that night. The horror of seeing the statue had been too much. He lay awake, longing for comfort, longing to see just one honestly beautiful good thing. It seemed forever before the sergeant came down and Loki's watch went up.
After an hour in the throne room, they went on a routine patrol of the castle grounds. Though Loki's muscles were hard he had a terrible time keeping up with the fierce pace of the other wolves. Maugrim had put him with them just to see him snap.
Suddenly something white leapt out of the shadows and pinned him to the ground. Loki struggled, but made no sound.
"Meet me at the cave, tonight." It was Shard. Shard let him up and Loki streaked after the other wolves, there had been no time to respond. When he looked back Shard was gone without a trace.
~o*o~
"None of you know why I have gathered you here today." Brant looked down at the group he had gathered, loyal Narnians all. His smithy was housed entirely in caves and he stood upon an oaken table. "Lord Darcy has brought news which I think you should hear from him only."
Lord Darcy leapt to the table and took in the room in one long gaze, "Long ago, just before the witch took Narnia, Stormrunner prophesied that there must be four thrones built at Cair Paravel for four children that would liberate Narnia from the witch. Just a two weeks ago, in the ninety ninth year of her reign, four children came into Narnia from another world."
A murmur filled the room.
"They made a grueling and dangerous journey through Narnia and are even now in the court of King Lune of Archenland. They sent me here with a command."
"By next spring, with Aslan's help, they will invade. They need you to be ready when they come. Those of you that are smiths, make armor and weapons and arm all those that may be armed. Those of you that work wood can make spears and bows and those of you that work leather can make breastplates and helmets. Can they count on you as loyal Narnians to do all they ask?"
A cheer rent the air.
~o*o~
It was only that night that Loki could go. The day was filled with maneuvers and grueling exercises. Only the night was his own. He could leave the castle, sleep, chase his tail, kill himself, no one cared. Just as long as he was there the next morning.
Loki lay in the mud in the stables. There was moonlight that night and it glowed through the little window high in the wall. The white mare was asleep again, this time in the back of her stall.
As usual, the stallion was awake and pacing his stall. Loki looked up, seeing the stallion's smooth white back, moving in the moonlight; arching neck, high withers, hollow back and croup, then around again. Loki always wondered if either of the horses had names. If they did, no one knew them, they were simply the horses.
The stallion paused in walk and thrust his head over the door of the stall. His ears pricked at some unknown sound and his shock of creamy white forelock tumbled over his dark, intelligent eyes. Horses seemed so wise somehow. Wise, lonely and pained.
Loki shifted onto his side. The stallion never failed to remind him of the day the horses escaped. They had gone after them and Loki remembered them, galloping in one mad dash over the snow, just the two of them. He remembered the snow churned by their flying legs, their flared nostrils, their wide, white rimmed eyes.
They signified something Loki had known before; he felt it within him as he watched them. That they would stake everything in that one foolhardy dash across the snow, to something they knew and longed for. That they would risk their lives for it. They were of course at last overtaken, the wolves held them at bay and the dwarfs roped them and threw them to the ground.
Afterwards Loki asked Shard what it was they wanted, tried to escape for. It was freedom, Shard said, freedom that they would die for. Loki had never felt the same about life since then, all he had ever known was captivity. The new idea of freedom frightened him and thrilled him. He longed for it, more than he had ever longed before.
It was midnight when he slipped through the castle. He paused at the throne room door and looked into the room; then he flitted over the floor toward the statue. He didn't know what possessed him to do it, the statue terrified him, but he was drawn to it.
"Loki?"
Loki jumped into the air, when he came back to earth he creped silently closer and looked up into the statue's face.
"You came back?" the statue asked, there was a strange sound in his voice.
"Yes," Loki whispered, "But I can't stay long, I have an appointment to keep with my uncle."
"Who's your uncle?"
"Shard."
"Shard…he brought me in here," Eustace rasped, "I almost liked him towards the end, though."
"I'm sure he didn't want to bring you," Loki said. "My father probably made him."
"Your father?"
"Maugrim." Loki spat. "He hates me, I hate him. That's all there is to it."
"You look like Maugrim, now that I think about it." Eustace saw the little wolf stiffen, "More like Shard, though."
"Really?" Loki stared up at the statue and Eustace saw heartfelt gratitude.
"Are all the statues like me?" Eustace asked. "Can they see and hear during the day and come partly to life at night?"
"Not as far as I know," Loki said. "They've all been solid stone for almost a hundred years."
"Maybe her power's weakening." Eustace croaked.
Loki's eyes widened, "You really think so?"
The statue never answered.
Loki sighed and looked away; then he streaked back across the wide stone floor and out the door.
The night guards did not question him as he went out the castle gates into the night. The cave Shard had mentioned was an old secret between them. Shard had found it when he was a puppy and Loki was the only creature he had ever told.
The cave was at the bottom of a sheer cliff and Loki had no trouble slipping into it.
"Loki?" the familiar voice filtered towards him.
"Shard, sir?" Loki quavered. "You've come back?"
Shard chuckled, "Yes, I have, but I must leave again. I have important work for you to do. It is up to you whether you will do it, because it will be dangerous."
"I'll do it." Loki said.
"Wait 'till you hear what it is, Loki." Shard said. "The four children are in Archenland now, you've seen them yourself. They want you to be a spy for them."
"A spy?" Loki asked.
"It's dangerous Loki."
"I'll do it."
"I knew you would."
A/N: Here is the Narnian underground. There had to have been one. Does this make sense?