34 - Sacked
Edmund hauled himself out of the water onto Cair's pier, gasping as he pulled the wand up after him. His first look at the castle in well over a year, and it was burning.
Another ship lay at anchor on the pier—the Splendour Hyaline. Edmund raced past it and pelted up the slope past town. He knew—he knew—he should have stayed and faced the White Witch, but he couldn't stop until he learned Peter and Susan's fate. Perhaps the first wrong tactical decision he'd made since he was ten years old. Certainly the most critically so. And yet he kept going.
The town was deserted and boarded up. Some of the storefronts had been forcibly smashed open, and their contents lay in the street. Ed ran on, slipping in mud and slush, disobeying the scream of his air-starved lungs. I will keep my promise. I swear it. But I need to know if they're alive.
He raced past the edge of town and up the slope to the castle, keeping his wind only Aslan knew how. He was stopped short at the main gate by the first signs of battle.
A pair of orcs spotted him and broke from the pack attacking the oak doors. Without thinking, Ed tore Wandbreaker from its scabbard at his side. With Wandbreaker in his right fist and the ice wand in his left, he struck, slash-slash, and cut down his enemies before they had the chance to draw his blood. The Lion must have been helping him. He could not fathom how he'd maintained his breath after the swim and run to get here.
More of the battering party noticed him, and suddenly a swarm of orcs and boggles came running at him. Edmund whirled, ducked, and lunged as they reached him, sometimes only escaping a blow by the swing of his forelock. No fear. No fear, he chanted in his head. And it was as if his feet remembered the feel of Narnian soil, because even as he gasped for breath, he found himself faster, more agile.
A cloud of blue smoke appeared beside him. Jinn Saris materialized. "It is good to see you, brother," the Jinn said, firing spell after spell.
"Great to ... be here!" Ed panted, striking one orc with Wandbreaker as he blocked another with the wand. "Where's Peter?"
"Fighting in the field. Susan is inside."
"Why aren't you in there ... protecting her!" Ed lunged at a boggle and speared it cleanly with the wand.
In between launching magical bolts of lightning, Saris grinned. "You look like you might want help." His grin vanished, and he lunged behind Ed's back to throw another bolt at a pair of orcs who'd gotten behind them. The pair dropped, squealing, and the scent of charcoal filled the air. Ed gave the Jinn a grateful look.
Hoofbeats pounded toward them, followed by an outraged snarl Edmund would have known anywhere. "Stupid! Rock-headed! Arse!"
Barton, his friend and battle charger, galloped toward them, mowing down invaders as he ran. Beside him raced Leina, with a look of rage on her face.
Ed crashed his sword against the blade of an oncoming orc. "Love you, too, Leina!"
Instantly her expression changed to delight, and she cheerfully plowed into a trio of boggles and decimated them.
As soon as Barton reached him, Ed sprang gratefully onto the horse's back. His legs ached, in spite of how good it felt to be back in Narnia. Now, how to get to Peter and open a path for him to the castle? And where in the world were Van and that dragon?
- # -
"I saw him!" Lucy cried. "There! He fell there!" She pointed over Arrow's shoulder as they soared over Cair Bay.
But before they could approach, the dragon burst out of the sea with a snarl. In his claws was Vandelar. Lucy leaned forward, willing the griffin to speed toward him ... but it seemed Van and the dragon were arguing.
"I don't care what you sssssay, I'm not going over there again," the dragon sneered.
Van coughed so hard, seawater spilled out of his mouth. The dragon squeezed with his claws—Lucy winced, seeing it—but more seawater poured forth, and Van took a gulping breath so long and loud, she could hear it even from her distance. "I dislocated my knee!" he shouted. "What'd you get? A little fright? Look at you! Look at what you did to those ships!"
In disbelief, Lucy watched the dragon scoop Van onto his back again. They flapped higher, and Lucy stared from the burning Calormene ships to the bickering, unlikely pair arcing through the sky again.
A cloud of leaves billowed through the air beside her. "We have this," came Asha's voice. "We will hold them as long as we can. See to Edmund and Peter."
"Got it," Lucy said, and she and Arrow swerved off. But as they streaked landward, a cloud of beasts soared into the air from the Witch's ship.
Harpies. Dozens of them. "Arrow, we need to rally the griffins!"
Arrow lashed his tail. "I may follow Rook, after all." He drew a breath, then gave a long, screeching cry that rang in Lucy's ears. The sound bounced off the water and lingered, echoing, in the air.
As they flashed past the dragon, Lucy called, "Van! With me!"
The dragon swung toward them. Lucy fancied she could feel the heat of the beast's breath on Arrow's tail. What would the Narnians do when they saw that coming?
She and Arrow streaked toward the castle. Below, she glimpsed the glass roof, and the peacock colors of the stained glass wall in the throne room of Cair Paravel. The throne room was nestled in the center of the castle proper, inaccessible if the gates were locked ...
Except by air.
Oh, no.
An enormous harpy, four times the size of its fellows, pelted past and hurled a giant burning cask of oil at the castle. The cask crashed through the glass roof, and an explosion ricocheted through the air. Arrow reeled, and Lucy with him. With a cry of dismay, Lucy watched the beautiful stained-glass wall shatter and collapse. Bricks crumbled. A nearby tower shuddered and fell.
Tears stung Lucy's eyes and froze as they streaked down her face in the cold wind. "Susan," she moaned.
A hot wind rushed forward past her, and with it, Van and the dragon. "You gonna let her do that?" Van called, fury plain in his voice. In midair, the dragon wrapped itself around the harpy queen, and the two tumbled over, screeching and snapping and flapping.
As she and Arrow drifted over the castle, she saw a battering ram puncture the main gate. A river of invaders poured inside. Lucy gathered herself and lifted her crossbow. The harpies surrounded them now, diving down to pluck sentinels off the castle battlements, then rising again to drop their prey to their deaths. All around it was madness, but Lucy's focus shrank to one harpy, and one crossbow bolt, at a time.
- # -
Cori listened at the door of the safe room where she'd hidden with Susan. Once she arrived in the courtyard, she'd scented Susan—and her distress—and known exactly what was happening. She had escaped unseen and followed the scent to a hall in the depths of the castle. There, the scent trail stopped, magically impeded ... but Cori knew where Susan had gone. A secret wall halfway down the hallway disguised the entrance to a room outfitted with food, bedding, weapons ... and if need be, an escape tunnel underground to the sea.
Outside, Cori heard the faint sounds of battle. They had breached the castle doors, then.
Footsteps ran past. "Your Majesty! Your Majesty?" came the voice of Ruenilan, a dryad and one of the castle staff. Cori remained silent, holding her hand against the wound still in her belly. She didn't trust the dryad, hadn't for months. She had made her concerns known to Susan, but Susan said that if Ruenilan were a traitor, they might make use of her by "leaking" misinformation to her. Shrewd, that. Perhaps the reason they had lasted so long.
"Your Majesty?" the dryad called again. The voice faded.
Cori turned. Susan lay prone on the mattress in the corner, sweating and pale. "She won't hear you, anyway," Susan said. "Saris blocked sound from this room."
"I like to know who is coming," Cori answered. She approached the mattress and sat on its edge to draw up the front of her shirt and chinked mail. She reached for the bloody wound, then hesitated with guilt in her eyes. "Sorry."
Susan gave a dry laugh. "Do what you must, sister."
Cori gritted her teeth and dug her fingers into the wound. The wolf in her snarled in furious pain, but she pinched the slippery edge of the bullet in her fingertips and jerked it out. She dropped it with a metallic clatter on the floor, growling. She shapeshifted twice—werewolf, human, werewolf, human—and the wound began to mend.
Susan's gaze found the bloody bullet on the floor. "Guns?" she moaned. "Oh, Peter. I should be out there."
Still aching, Cori wiped her hands clean on a cloth and sank to the floor beside the mattress. "You should be here."
"They need all the help they can get. They need warriors. And here I am—" Susan bit off a moan of distress as another labor contraction hit her.
Cori dampened a cloth from the pitcher nearby and dabbed it on Susan's forehead.
When the contraction passed, Susan took a gasping breath. "—useless to them."
Cori stared at Susan's pale face, and the ache in her belly spread to her heart. "You are not useless, Susan. You are the woman I always wished to be."
Susan's eyes softened. "I can say the same for you."
Uncomfortable with the admiration in Susan's eyes, Cori poured a sip of water and held it to Susan's lips. When Susan finished drinking, Cori set the cup back down and sat on the edge of the mattress.
Susan bit off a moan as another contraction swamped her. When it passed, she said, "You should go. Defend the castle."
"I am right where I ought to be," Cori insisted. "I am certain you would have this child all on your own, but I believe I was fated to be wounded and sent here to you. Aslan knows what he is doing."
There was a long silence. Then Susan whispered, "Do you think he'll come?"
Cori laid her hand over Susan's, trying not to notice the difference. Blood under her fingernails, scratches on her knuckles. Susan's hands were lovely. Cori gave Susan's hand a squeeze. "I believe he's always here, sister."