Surprises and Warnings
Darkness closed around the small group of Dryads like a black cloak as they fled from the fortress towards the safety of the forest.Zia kept glancing over her shoulder, expecting to see a dark mass of bodies and metal coming after them. The shadow of the fortress reared up against the mountains and the inky black sky, but remained as still and quiet as if its only inhabitants were ghosts.
Zia led the party deeper and deeper into the woods, through row upon row of trees too afraid of the nearby danger to twitch their branches. The silence made Zia anxious. More than once she found herself wishing Tigran was with them so she wouldn't feel so afraid. But Tigran wasn't there. He had succumbed to the treacherous ways of their enemies and was doomed to serve the White Witch forever. Even in death she had a firm grip on the lands she had stolen. Would Narnia ever be able to shake her hold?
They found their way to a narrow stream bordered by bulrushes that whispered in the breeze. The sound was comforting rather than sinister -nature would be their only friend during the long, cold night.
One of the Dryads - he called himself Brook and seemed the most experienced of Tigran's select group of soldiers - did a swift skirt of the immediate area, simultaneously checking for danger and gathering wood for a fire. Zia and the others picked their way carefully to the bank of the stream and used its clear, cool water to wash away the grime and bad memories they had collected over the past few days.
A pale face broke the surface of the water, making them all jump. The face belonged to a woman; her features were angled and delicate, her skin tinged blue and almost translucent. Shiny dark hair threaded with strips of seaweed tumbled over her shoulders and fanned out under the water.
"Welcome, friends." Her voice was high and musical like the babble of a brook. "My sisters and I do not get many visitors since the fortress was built not far from here, many moons ago. But if you wish to stay and rest, we will gladly watch over you."
The nymph's eyes found Zia. They were as round and black as deep pools. "You must be the one they speak of. The Dryad who stole the heart of a King." Zia felt herself blush as she bowed her head. The nymph drew closer, graciously reaching out her webbed fingers to brush Zia's cheek. Her movements caused barely a ripple to disturb the water's surface.
"Humans can be fickle creatures," she murmured. "You must always remember where your heart truly belongs."
A montage of faces blurred in front of Zia's eyes; Nina, Ivy, Tigran, Maia, Breejit... Edmund. The last face was the one that lingered, even as she realised she had not yet grieved properly for her dead friend. Her chest tightened - whether with guilt or with longing, she couldn't tell.
"The Centaurs see a dark future written in the stars," The nymph withdrew her hand. "A future that greatly involves both you and the raven-haired King."
"What do the stars say, exactly?" Zia's voice dropped to a whisper.
"The nights grow cold," said the nymph, avoiding her question. "You must make plans if you wish to remain at your King's side through the winter months." Her gaze dropped furtively to the pouch tied around Zia's waist. "Farewell, and remember what I have told you." Then she was gone, seeming to dissolve right into the surface of the stream as though she was made of water herself.
By the time she returned to the others, Brook had built a small fire and the four of them sat huddled as close to the flames as they dared. Each pair of eyes watched her as she joined them, but none of them would hold her gaze. They all wore their hair as short as Tigran's, but only Brook's mimicked the golden colour of it. The other three all had the same dark hair and eyes like almonds, both in shape and colour. They could have been brothers if Dryads had actual blood relatives.
The toils of the day swiftly caught up with them and soon only Zia and Brook were left awake. Brook's eyes scarcely left her face - she knew he longed to question her. In no mood to answer, she avoided his gaze until his attention was focused on sharpening a stick with his flint knife. Her bow lay across her knees, the only familiar thing in this unfamiliar part of the woods. Despite the water-nymph's promise her nerves were stretched thin. Every time a twig snapped or a leaf rustled her heart began to pound, only for her to realise she had imagined the sound altogether.
She missed Edmund so much she felt ashamed of it.
As the hours passed the air grew colder. Brook noticed her shivering and stoked the fire, but the feeble flames couldn't ease the chill in her bones. The nymph's words came back to her. You must make plans if you wish to remain at your King's side through the winter months. She already wished she was curled up in the boughs of her tree instead of on the cold ground. When the nights started to leave dustings of frost behind like sugar sprinkled on top of the little cakes that Edmund and his siblings enjoyed so much, she would simply curl up to sleep and wake up only when new buds and tiny green shoots emerged from under the endless white. The time to sleep drew near - she could already feel the lethargy spreading through her limbs.
But this time was different. Tigran was still in trouble. Edmund needed her. She couldn't leave him behind for months on end. Who knew what would happen? Would she wake up in spring only to find that Edmund was long dead, as Pelerine had with Tumnus' father? No. She wouldn't let that happen. There had to be a way.
She must have slept, for a sudden noise woke her. Her eyes found Brook's and his expression confirmed her fears. Something was coming.
Putting a finger to his lips, Brook motioned for her to wake the others. She did so with her bow firmly gripped in her right hand, the fingers of her left hand witching with anticipation of knocking an arrow. Once the triplets (as Zia had come to refer to them) had come to their senses, the five of them stood, backs pressed together and weapons poised, squinting into the grey gloom that clung between the trees like old cobwebs.
The footsteps grew nearer and more distinct. It became clear that whoever - or whatever - was approaching wasn't alone. There were at least two of them if they were on horseback, at least four if they travelled on foot. The treads were light - that meant the General hadn't changed his mind and decided to kill them after all. If Zia wasn't mistaken, at least one of the sets of footsteps belonged to a horse.
Her heart leaped into her mouth. Philip? Or Seren? Even Peter's white unicorn would have been a welcome sight, regardless of its rider's low opinion of her.
The figure that emerged from the shadows was neither Horse nor Man. His curly hair was dishevelled and his dark eyes hooded as though he hadn't slept well for days, but his face was so familiar that Zia had run over and flung her arms around him before the others had drawn breath. They stared on in bewilderment as Zia greeted the Centaur like an old friend.
"What are you doing here?" Zia stepped back from Davlon as another Centaur appeared beside her friend. This one was female, with a pale torso and light blonde hair to match her palomino tail. She was looking at Zia as if she had crossed a boundary. "I thought you were with Edmund and Peter on your way back to the Cair?"
Davlon smiled and Zia knew he was as glad to see her as she was him. "I have waited for you since you disappeared through those doors with that blond boy and goodness knows what kind of silly idea in your head." He looked over her shoulder at the other Dryads regarding him with a mixture of awe and fear. "Is he still with you?"
Zia shook her head. "The General has him. He's on their side now." She couldn't keep the sadness out of her voice.
Davlon drew her close to his body and pressed his face into her hair. He smelled of pine and the sweet horsey scent that was becoming ever more familiar. She could smell it on Edmund's skin at the end of most days.
"I'm sure he knows what he's doing," he said comfortingly. "He may talk too much but there's a clever head on his shoulders."
Zia nodded. "Is Edmund alright? Did they all get away safely?"
His fingers gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Out of the corner of her eye, Zia watched the female Centaur's slender eyebrows rise. "His Majesty is just fine, his brother has him well looked after." He smiled again as Zia released a breath. "We must get you to safety. This part of the forest is unpredictable. Come, we can talk more on the way."
The she-Centaur cleared her throat and Davlon blinked as though he had only just remembered she was there. He suddenly looked uneasy. The woman swished her tail and stepped towards Zia, lightly nudging Davlon out of the way. "I am Lydian," she said, and Zia felt she was being thoroughly scrutinised by her quick eyes. "I am Davlon's mate."
Her words were like a fist in Zia's stomach. Davlon had never mentioned Lydian before, let alone that she was his mate. No wonder he looked so uncomfortable!
"How do you do," she muttered, though her gaze was on Davlon. His head was lowered and, by the Mane, was he blushing?
Lydian took no notice of Davlon's obvious awkwardness and moved off to introduce herself to Brook and the triplets. They bowed and their eyes lit up. Zia guessed that none of them had met a Centaur before.
"How long has she been your mate?" Zia murmured to Davlon. "What does that mean, anyway? Do Centaurs have wives?"
Davlon hushed her with a subtle glance at Lydian. She seemed immersed in conversation with Zia's companions, as though she found them as fascinating as they did her. "I haven't even thought of that yet. Lydian and I have been companions since we were foals, but I didn't know until recently that she had an interest in becoming something more."
"So it wasn't love at first sight?"
His hands landed gently on her shoulders and he gently steered her back the way he and Lydian had come. "I'll tell you everything when the time is right, but now we really must be going. Dawn is on the horizon."
Lydian led the way with two of Zia's companions walking on either side of her. The four boys chattered happily away as if they had forgotten that their friend was trapped inside that fortress with a Minotaur and Aslan knew what other kinds of horrific creatures. Lydian smiled and laughed along with them, her golden coat shimmering even in the sparse light. Zia stayed at Davlon's side, staring miserably at her feet. Davlon tried to cheer her up by telling stories as they walked, but by now she was so exhausted and sick with longing that she could barely manage a smile.
"I'm sorry for the way our last meeting ended."
Zia sighed. She had been trying to keep the memory of that day out of her mind - the last words she had spoken to Breejit stung like knives piercing her heart.
"I'm the one that should be sorry. I was stupid and reckless. But I don't regret it as I know I should and that makes me feel ashamed."
He regarded her with soft eyes. "Perhaps it would be for the best if the past was forgotten. There are more pressing matters that require our attention."
"Like what?"
"Well your loud-mouthed friend must be rescued, for one thing. Aslan knows what sort of trouble he'll get himself into inside that fortress. Also, there are rumours that the Giants are preparing to come south and wage war."
"On whom?" Zia asked in alarm.
Davlon could only shrug. "I would say whomever gets in their way first."
The sun was climbing into the sky by the time Lydian finally came to a halt, although all the party could see of it was a watery yellow light gingerly poking through the canopy above. The leaves had started to turn and the ground was already decorated with splashes of red and orange. The sun couldn't truly banish the chill from the air. Zia walked so close to Davlon that their shoulders bumped, hoping to borrow a little warmth from his chestnut body.
They stopped in a clearing, empty but for a cluster of rocks and a few sparse flowers that wouldn't survive the changing temperature. The triplets sank gratefully to the ground, pulling briars out of their feet. Brook followed Lydian to Davlon's side. Zia answered the question in his eyes with a small nod, though he must have seen the weariness in her face.
"You may rest here for a while," Lydian told the two of them gently. "We will stay with you and await news from our kinsmen."
Zia followed Brook over to where the triplets were already snoring. One of them twitched as he slept, his fingers twisting into claws which then scratched at his own face. His nails left harsh marks on his skin. Brook caught the boy's wrist and straightened his fingers and the boy's face became peaceful again. Brook's, however, was a picture of concern.
"What's the matter?" Zia asked as he folded himself down between her and the boys. He hadn't yet taken his eyes off them.
"They are only young," he replied in a voice that should have belonged to someone much older than he looked. "Child soldiers, really. They aren't used to being away from their trees for long periods of time."
"But it has barely been four days!"
Brook frowned. The deep creases in his forehead and around his eyes suggested he did so too often. "I don't know why Tigran brought them along. They have great skill with swords but their minds are not yet fully honed for battle and the difficulties it brings. Though I suppose Tigran assumed we would be home by now. Sometimes he can be so arrogant."
"You shouldn't speak of him like that," Zia said sleepily, though the first thing she wanted to do when she saw Tigran again was close her fingers around his throat. If he ever saw him again.
Davlon and Lydian stood a little way off, talking in low voices with their heads bent close together. Davlon's face looked much the same as she knew hers did when she was with Edmund. It was as though Lydian hypnotised him. Zia wondered if his heart was thumping as though it might burst as Lydian smoothed his wiry hair back from his face.
Brook was smiling affectionately. "He's my best friend and has been for years. My insults mean less to him than if an insect were to land on his arm."
Best friend. Childhood companion. Zia's heart felt cold - she would never see her best friend and childhood companion again. Turning away so that Brook couldn't see her face, she tucked her knees under her chin and tried to breathe evenly until Brook began to snore softly.
Only then did she finally weep.