When Enemies Unite

"Giants?" Lucy repeated in horror. "Why are the Giants coming here? They don't have any interest in what happens in Narnia." She was looking beseechingly up at Tigran, her eyes as wide as saucers, but Tigran didn't appear to have heard her.

For creatures so huge and heavy, the Giants moved alarmingly fast. They had travelled half the distance between Cair Paravel and the other side of the forest in just under ten minutes, and it wouldn't be long before they reached the castle. Their feet were the size of fishing boats – they demolished trees purely by accident as they marched, sending flocks of birds into the air like puffs of black clouds. Their startled cawing was drowned out by the tremendous noise of fifty huge feet stomping the ground in unison.

Panic began to bloom in Zia's chest. She glanced sideways at Tigran, hoping to see evidence of a plan forming in his mind. She was startled to see that his face was suddenly pale and drawn, as if he were ill, and his eyes were now so dark they were almost black. Though she could see he was fighting to keep his expression neutral for her and Lucy's benefit, Zia knew exactly what was going through Tigran's mind. He passed a hand over his eyes and she noticed with faint alarm that it was trembling.

"This isn't your fault," she told him firmly. She reached for his hand but he waved her away, never taking his eyes off the horizon.

"It doesn't matter whose fault it is," he said monotonously. "All that matters is what we do about it." He took Lucy gently by the shoulders, leaning down so that their faces were on the same level. "Go back to Ivy," he instructed. "Help her get the wounded to safety, and whatever you do stay close to her."

After staring at him for a moment, Lucy shook her head furiously. "No, I want to help! Please let me fight!"

"Lucy -" Zia began, but Tigran had taken the girl's face between his hands and was gazing at her like she was the only person in the world he wanted to protect.

"You willbe helping," he assured her. "You can cure the wounded and prevent them from dying. That's far more important than killing."

Lucy bit her lip and nodded. "Okay." Tigran let her go and she turned to head back to Ivy, but not without giving him a long, unreadable stare before she left.

Tigran straightened up and brushed dust off his shirt. He had put the mask back in place and his expression had returned to normal.

Zia gawped at him in disbelief. "What was that?"

"What was what?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"That!" She gestured agitatedly at the spot where they had lost sight of Lucy. "You've only just met her and you were looking at her like – well, like you were in love with her or something!"

Tigran smirked, stoking her irritation. "Jealous?"

"Why would I be jealous? Sometimes you can be the most infuriating -"

Tigran held up a hand. "Whoa there, princess, let's not let our temper get the better of us. Anyway, she'll be safe now, won't she? That's all that matters."

"But you can't just go around flirting with whoever you like! She's a Queen, you know."

He looked straight into her eyes with a perfectly controlled expression. "I don't think you're in any position to tell me that."

Zia looked away. "Right. I'm going to find Edmund." She turned to leave but hesitated. She turned back to find him still watching her, a disconcerting darkness hovering in the depths of his gaze.

"He's all wrong for you, you know," he said quietly. The unexpected vulnerability in his face and voice was enough to make her heart thump painfully. He looked almost lost – something she would never have thought him capable of being.

She shook her head as if she could physically push his words away. She wouldn't let him see how they truly affected her – how much they echoed the doubts that had refused to leave her mind ever since her first confrontation with Maia.

She turned her shoulders away, effectively throwing up a wall between her and Tigran, and headed purposefully down the slope towards the battle. On her way down she happened across an abandoned sword and gratefully picked it up. The blade was curved like a scythe and wickedly sharp. The hilt had been crudely and carelessly shaped from a hunk of black metal that irritated her skin where she gripped it. It was no Narnian weapon, and with a sickening twist of her stomach she realised that the blood coating the blade was the blood of Narnian soldiers – maybe even the blood of her friends. Shuddering, she scraped the sword against the grass, though it did little to help clean it.

An ear-splitting screech jerked her head up just in time to see a Harpy dive out of the sky towards Edmund, its claws outstretched and aiming for his eyes. He barely had time to turn before it was upon him, causing him to overbalance and fall. The Harpy pinned him to the ground by the shoulders; its talons sliced straight through his armour and into the skin beneath. His chainmail was streaked with red and his face contorted with pain as he tried to manoeuvre his right arm to reach the Harpy with his sword. The creature noticed his obvious struggle and purposefully shifted all of its weight onto his right shoulder, causing him to scream in agony.

The sound sent a shock through Zia's body and she launched herself at the Harpy, catching it by the bony ridges at the base of its wings and dragging it off Edmund. The creature shrieked and shook her off, throwing her onto her back with a jarring thud that knocked the breath out of her. The sword flew from her hand and out of reach, leaving her weapon-less as the Harpy turned on her, its inky black eyes burning with ferocity. She threw up her arms to protect her face and felt the burn of razor-sharp claws slicing open her skin. The ground heaved beneath her; the Giants were almost here. She managed to push herself into a sitting position just as the Harpy flew at her a second time. She heard her own name mixed in with someone's screams as the Harpy's talons tore mercilessly at her face.

Something hit the Harpy with a heavy thud, sending it reeling sideways with an enraged squeal. A figure with pale blond hair wrestled the creature to the ground, his lips pulled back over his teeth in a feral snarl. The Harpy beat its wings in his face frantically, but Tigran remained astride it without so much as a wobble. His sword was in his hand and the usual deranged glint was back in his eyes. He stabbed his sword towards the Harpy's throat and the creature shuddered once before going still.

"Zia!" Edmund was suddenly beside her, his fingers sticky with sweat and blood as they circled her wrists. She tried to shake him off; the pain in her arms and face was unbearable and she knew she must look like a wreck. He was the last person she wanted to see - she wished so desperately for Ivy to come that her throat grew tight and she began to sob.

"Hey, it's okay," Edmund whispered soothingly. "Just let me have a look. I promise I won't touch them." He was gentle but insistent as he tugged her hands away from her face. In the end she let him, keeping her eyes closed so she wouldn't have to see the worry and panic grow in his.

When he spoke her name again, there was an edge to his voice that was much worse than worry or panic. "Please, open your eyes."

She did as he asked, and a scream caught in the back of her throat. The left side of her vision was completely dark - the Harpy had blinded her left eye.

She felt herself begin to shake, and Edmund's arms folded around her, drawing her close to his chest and stroking her hair. Suddenly a furious bellow shattered the air, and Edmund was pulling her to her feet, pushing her behind him as a Minotaur came charging towards them. Scared and disorientated, Zia stumbled and almost fell. Someone caught her arm before she lost her balance, narrowly avoiding the cuts that still bled profusely. Relief overwhelmed her when she recognised Tigran's face, though it swam in and out of focus so violently that she felt dizzy. She grabbed the front of his shirt, almost tearing the fabric, and felt him lift her into his arms.

Hovering on the edge of unconsciousness, all Zia could do was cling to Tigran with as much strength as she had left whilst he carried her up the slope towards the castle. She tried to speak, to tell him to let her walk, but he either couldn't hear or was choosing to ignore her. She gave up and allowed herself to drift, barely aware of the carnage and commotion around them until it was replaced by a soft murmuring of voices. She recognised one of the voices as Lucy's and moments later felt the cool metal rim of the cordial press against her lips. She had barely swallowed a drop before warmth surged through her body, flooding her muscles with pure energy and dragging her up out of the darkness.

When she fully regained consciousness seconds later, she realised she was lying on top of a white sheet and Lucy was bending over her. The fire-flower cordial was in her right hand, the cap still open.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

Zia didn't open her eyes - she was scared of what she would discover if she did - but managed a smile for Lucy's benefit. "Much better. Thank you." It was true - she felt like running all the way to Archenland and back. Her arms and face no longer burned and the weariness was gone from her bones, but Lucy's cordial couldn't cure everything. The memory of what had happened caused her hands to start trembling again, and she felt Lucy cover them with her own.

"Zia..." she began in a voice weighted with bad news, "The cordial healed the wounds around your eye, but I don't know if it can bring your sight back. I'm so sorry." She sounded on the verge of tears.

Shaking her head, Zia gripped Lucy's fingers tightly. "Don't be. You tried your best." She cracked her right eye open, putting on her best reassuring smile. "I've still got the other eye, see?"

The young Queen laughed shakily. She glanced towards the corner of the room where Tigran stood, half concealed by shadows. His eyes were fixed on Zia and his expression was strained, like he was reining back some strong emotion.

"Thank you," she said. "You didn't have to do that."

Tigran scoffed and turned his head away. "Of course I did. If I hadn't you would have lost the other eye, or worse."

Zia scowled. "I was perfectly fine."

Tigran's arms were crossed over his chest and the muscles were taught. The tendons rippled under his skin as he clenched his fists tighter. "Sure you were. Look, do me a favour and stick to archery from now on. That way you're less likely to do something stupid."

"What gives youthe right to -?"

"Stop it!" Lucy exclaimed. "Arguing isn't going to help anything. Tigran, you should go. They still need you."

Tigran shrugged as if it was all the same to him. He pushed himself away from the wall with his usual catlike fluidity and headed for the door. He paused with his hand on the handle, but didn't turn around when he spoke in a low voice, "I would strongly advise you to do as I say. I won't always be around to save your reckless behind."

Zia was still staring after him long after the door had closed, too shocked to think of a retort. What was his problem? One minute he seemed almost normal and the next he was back to being arrogant, sarcastic and generally irksome, throwing his weight around and acting like he knew what was best for everyone, not just her. For a brief moment she almost wished she haddone permanent damage to his throat - at least then he wouldn't be able to make conceited remarks all the time.

"Don't mind him," Lucy said. Her gaze was also fixed on the door, though for an entirely different reason. "He's just worried about you. You should have seen him when he first brought you in here..." Her words trailed off, but not before Zia picked up on the sharp edge to her voice that sounded very much like jealousy.

"You're welcome to him," she said vehemently, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and ignoring Lucy's look of surprise. There was still a battle happening right on Cair Paravel's doorstep, and although impaired sight was a huge hindrance she could still be of use.

Her bow and quiver leaned against the cabinet at the side of the bed. She settled them both on her back and stood up, intending to go back up onto the battlements with Susan and the other archers. It bothered her to be doing what Tigran wanted, especially since he'd been so rude about asking, but she knew he was right. She was much better with a bow than with a sword, and if she got into trouble again there was no guarantee anyone would be able to save her.

Before she left, Zia reached into her pouch and took out the bottle. She handed it to Lucy, answering the question in her eyes with a smile.

"Look after this for me," she said. "It's very important."

"Okay, but what -?"

The sound of the hospital door slamming cut off the rest of Lucy's question - Zia was already gone.

Up on the ramparts, the wind caught Zia's hair and whipped it around her face as soon as she stepped out into the open. The temperature had dropped significantly and a mass of grey clouds had gathered overhead. The air was thick with the promise of a storm. From this height, Zia could see the approaching Giants and how unnervingly close they were to the Cair. They moved with purposeful strides and grim expressions, marching in two distinct rows. She looked down and saw the battle spread out below her like one of Peter's military plans. The Narnians had begun their attack by using the slope between the castle and the edge of the forest to their advantage, but the earth had begun to crack open beneath their feet, creating holes in their ranks and allowing the enemy to push through.

It wasn't difficult to spot Peter and Edmund. They were both throwing everything they had into keeping the Narnians as organised as possible whilst simultaneously trying to push the enemy back. A pair of Minotaurs suddenly appeared on either side of Peter; they somehow managed to separate him from the soldiers that protected his flanks, leaving him vulnerable and seemingly doomed. As though acting on a telepathic signal, both Minotaurs swung their swords in wide arcs towards the King. He ducked and his blond head disappeared from Zia's view. She was certain he'd been cut down where he stood until one of the Minotaurs roared and toppled sideways. The other looked around in confusion – a mistake that was to be its last.

"I told you they'd come."

Zia hadn't heard Susan approach; the Queen's voice made her start. Susan smiled her familiar soft smile, but it quickly moulded into an expression of concern that brought the crease back between her eyebrows.

"Are you alright? Your eye…"

Zia waved the question away. "That doesn't matter. I can still shoot." She hoped that was true - it looked like the archers would be the first to deal with the oncoming Giants.

Susan seemed to guess her thoughts. "Despite what they like people to think, they don't always have a perfect plan." Zia marvelled at how she could sound so calm when approximately four dozen twenty-foot-tall titans were heading straight for them.. She glanced over her shoulder at the other archers. A couple of them seemed to share Susan's composure, but the rest had their eyes fixed on the horizon and looked distinctly pale.

"Is this worse than what happened before?" Zia asked quietly. She was almost ashamed to voice the question – it made her realise how afraid she was.

"I suppose that depends on how you view both situations," Susan replied. She placed her warm hand on Zia's arm. "It's okay to be scared, you know."

Zia felt the corners of her mouth twitch up in a smile. "You aren't."

Susan's eyes twinkled. "Am I not?"

One of the female archers let out a cry. "Milady, the Giants have entered our range!"

The change that came over Susan was instantaneous. Suddenly she was no longer the caring, gentle sister figure that Zia had come to see her as, but the strong, battle-hardened Queen that the Narnians saw. She motioned for Zia to join the other archers and soon hundreds upon thousands of arrows were flying towards the Giants. A surprising number struck home, though they barely seemed to affect their targets at all. The Giants didn't break their pace as a second barrage of arrows bombarded them, and panic erupted amongst the archers.

"We need to target them one by one!" Susan called. "Start with the one in the centre and work outwards!"

The unfortunate Giant who was first to receive two hundred arrows in its chest dropped like a stone with barely a yell of surprise. This caused the two either side to bellow in rage, raising their clubs and baring cracked yellow teeth at the group on the battlements.

"There won't be time to bring them all down before they get too close!" Zia shouted to Susan.

"There aren't enough of us to shoot more than one at a time!" Susan replied. "Keep going!"

Three more Giants fell to the ground before the rest broke into a run, barrelling towards them at full speed and roaring a challenge. The castle shook on its foundations; huge chunks of stone crumbled from the walls around the outer courtyard. Gaping fissures opened up all around the battlefield. The remaining Harpies shrieked and took to the sky, but were soon brought down by the archers' arrows. The first of the Giants burst out of the forest with a deafening roar, knocking the nearest group of Narnians aside with his club. The battlefield descended into chaos as every soldier turned and ran for the hill, scrambling for the safety of the Cair. The Giants seemed to enjoy this greatly. They chased the fleeing figures with amused grins on their ugly faces, swinging their clubs and laughing like rumbling thunder.

The archers watched, frozen with terror, as the Giants neared the castle's entrance. One of them picked up the twisted hunk of metal that was once the front gate in both hands, grunting with the effort, and hurled it upwards. It hit the top of a tower and brought an avalanche of crumbling stone down on top of the archers. Zia threw herself to one side as a chunk of rock the size of a chariot rolled past. It exploded through the rampart wall and plummeted to the courtyard below. One of the Giants looked up just in time to see the missile before it hit him squarely on the head. He staggered a few paces, too dazed to react, before toppling sideways and crushing a section of wall beneath his enormous bulk.

Choking on the dust clogging her throat, Zia forced herself onto her hands and knees and looked desperately around for Susan. The Queen was miraculously still on her feet, ushering the archers to safety inside the castle. Zia made her way over to her, shielding her good eye from the rock dust that blew around them like snow. Susan took her hand and they fled the battlements together, heading towards the commotion and voices coming from the entrance hall. They arrived just as the front doors slammed shut against the Giants, leaving the hall in a darkness illuminated only by candlelight. The sky outside the windows had turned iron-grey and the clouds had thickened until almost no sunlight could pierce them.

Zia stopped at the top of the staircase leading down to the hall. The crowd of people below was split into two distinct groups. The Narnians occupied one side of the hall. Edmund and Peter had their heads bent close together, whispering, no doubt trying to come up with a solution to this new dilemma. Zia spotted Tigran standing side by side with Brook. They were battered and bloody but both wore faint smiles on their faces, clearly glad to be back in each other's company. Zia's eyes travelled to the other side of the room, and what she saw sent shivers like icy fingers crawling down her spine. The dark, mutated figures were as familiar as a recurring nightmare. They skulked in the shadows, eyeing the Narnians with unmasked suspicion and distrust. Zia's hand began to ache and she realised she was gripping the banister hard enough for the dry skin on her knuckles to crack. The dim hall full of friends and monsters was made even more unnerving by the blackness that shrouded everything on her left side. She took her time descending the stairs, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other so she wouldn't have to see what awaited her at the bottom. As she reached the last stair she lifted her head to see a pair of dark brown eyes staring at her.

"Look," Tigran said, catching her wrist as she started to move past him. "I didn't mean what I said in the hospital. Well, I meant it, but I didn't mean it in the way I said it."

"Was that an apology?" Zia asked. She suddenly felt exhausted again; the effects of the fire-flower juice must be wearing off.

"No, but it's the closest you're going to get." It was Brook who had spoken. He was looking at Tigran with a mixture of exasperation and underlying affection. "I'd take it if I were you." He grinned at her and a weight lifted off her shoulders.

"I also meant what I said," she told Tigran. "You are the rudest and most arrogant person I've ever met. But," she added as he opened his mouth to retort, "I don'tdon't know where I'd be without you. You were the one that rescued me from that dungeon, after all. I never thanked you for that."

Tigran blinked. "You're welcome."

Zia turned to go, but turned back as another thought struck her. "Oh, and I'm sorry for… what I did earlier. I won't say I didn't mean it, but I'm sorry anyway."

Brook, who had been watching the exchange with amusement twinkling in his eyes, let out a quiet chuckle. "I see what you mean now."

"Shut up," Tigran growled.

Zia frowned at the two of them. Tigran was staring at his feet and Brook was grinning like his face was going to split in half. She got the feeling something was going on, but before she could ask someone called her name. She knew who it was without turning around, and when she did turn her mouth stretched into a grin that perfectly mirrored Brook's.

Edmund beckoned to her and unthinkingly she threw herself at him, almost knocking him over. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest so she could feel his heartbeat under her cheek. He stank of blood, sweat and metal, but underneath his familiar musky scent was still detectable. She felt him flinch as he moved his right arm around her and drew back, feeling guilty.

"Sorry, I forgot about your arm." His face was covered in scratches and patches of dried blood. He had taken off his helmet and his dark hair was plastered to his forehead. He definitely looked worse for wear, but Lucy could soon fix that. "You should go and see your sister," she told him. "She's taken care of me once already."

He touched the side of her face delicately with his fingertips. "The cordial brought your sight back?"

Zia shook her head. "I don't think it does that." She wondered what her injured eye looked like to him. Did it make her look like a monster?

Edmund seemed to guess what she was thinking. He took her face between his hands, holding her steady so she couldn't move away from his gaze. It pained her to only be able to see one side of his face, but even with limited sight the affection and kindness in his eyes was unmistakeable. He smiled her favourite smile – the smile that made her feel like he could see right into her soul, and liked what he found there. His hands were cool and soothing on her skin, and for a while it seemed like just the two of them existed. Everything else was forgotten.

Someone cleared their throat, and both she and Edmund turned to see the High King standing awkwardly in front of them. Zia sighed inwardly and stepped away from Edmund, in turn receiving a grateful nod from Peter.

"Ed," the High King addressed his brother. "We need to decide what to do. I don't know how long I can stand being in the same room as creatures who allied with the White Witch – especially not when they glare at us so unnervingly."

Edmund glanced across the room. The creatures were beginning to grow restless, though they had been suspiciously withdrawn thus far. "I don't think they plan to harm us," he said. "If they did they would have tried to do so already."

"It's that fact that makes me uneasy," Peter replied. "Could it be that they want something from us?"

As he spoke, a thunderous rumbling echoed through the surrounding walls. The Giants were trying to break in.

"I think what they seek right now is protection. Anyone who leaves the castle will have small chance of surviving long enough to escape." Edmund ran a hand through his hair, leaving it spiked up at the back. "The only way we can solve this is by working with them to drive the Giants away." He looked at Peter. "I thought you said they were going back to the Wild Lands?"

"That's what I thought," Peter said. His voice was laced with remorse. "Something must have happened to make them change their minds. I should have made sure they would be true to their word before we left."

Edmund gripped his brother's shoulder. "It's not your fault," he said earnestly. "None of us could have predicted this would happen."

"They probably forgot what they promised ten minutes after promising it," put in Tigran. He had sensed an important discussion was happening and couldn't resist going over to give his opinion. Brook followed a few paces behind, looking as though he expected the discussion to soon become an argument. "They really aren't very smart. If they were we'd all be dead by now."

"Yes, thank you for your input," muttered Edmund. Tigran narrowed his eyes, not missing the sarcastic edge to Edmund's words. Brook put a hand on his arm, steadying him before he could make a retort. "But the main question is how to get rid of them."

Everyone looked at each other with hopeless expressions. Even Susan, who had joined the conversation a little after Tigran, seemed out of ideas. There was another sound like an explosion in the distance and the floor rocked unsteadily beneath their feet.

Zia closed her eyes, willing the despair away and forcing herself to stay calm. They were in need of a miracle. There was only one person she knew who was capable of producing such things. She had tried calling him before, but he had never come. She was sure he had heard her, but perhaps he had enough belief in the Pevensies to let them find a solution to their predicament themselves. He had entrusted Narnia to them, after all.

"Zia?" She felt a hand touch hers and opened her eyes to see Edmund looking at her with concern. "Are you alright? Does it hurt?"

Zia shook her head. "I'm fine. But, Ed, maybe you should try talking to them. If we join forces, even just for a little while, there might be enough of us to force the Giants to retreat."

Peter looked doubtful. "There's not much chance they'll listen," he said. "Half an hour ago they were trying to kill us."

"That's true, but it's the only plan we've got," Susan pointed out. "They may be our enemies, but right now we all face the same problem. That might be the best motivation to get them to cooperate with us."

"Are you saying all we have to do is ask them nicely and we can all join hands and skip off into the sunset?" Tigran sounded appalled. "Believe me, that's not how these creatures think."

"They're not all like the General," Zia interjected. "I'm willing to bet the only reason they're still here is because they think the White Witch is coming back."

"But if we tell them that isn't going to happen, they'll only want to kill us more!"

"They need someone to follow," Edmund said. He spoke quieter than everyone else, but somehow his words carried the most weight. "We can offer them an allegiance and allow them to leave freely as long as they accept you as their leader, Pete."

Tigran clenched his jaw, his voice rising in pitch. "And you think they'll just agreeto something like that?"

Edmund's voice grew quieter still and his tone was ice-cold. "Right now it seems they have very little choice."

The Dryad opened his mouth but Brook quickly placed his hand over it, turning Tigran's retort into a series of unintelligible mumbles. "Don't argue with the King, Tigran."

Edmund smiled gratefully. "Thank you." He turned to Peter and indicated the room with a broad sweep of his arm. "It's up to you, Pete. Go and talk to them."