Chapter 1

The way was unclear. The path lacked certainty but the woman on it did not for she knew this was the only way to go. She knew because of the voices; it always started with the voices—actually, just one voice. It was the same voice every night: a woman's. Somehow the enigmatic whisper sounded familiar and yet, she couldn't place it. It drove her mad with curiosity and longing.

"Samantha." Her own name floated toward her on the wind as the mist thickened on the path. She stumbled forward and glanced down to find her feet were bare. A white dress that she didn't recognize, wrapped around her ankles and she frowned, grabbing the material in her hands. Then she began to run.

The path seemed as if it would never end and the fog was forever present. The voice was haunting and riddled with sadness. Something in her heart tugged at the desperate lilt; everything in her mind yearning to understand.

Suddenly, the clouds of grey began to separate and Samantha saw a silhouette at the end of the path. As she got closer she saw that the figure was standing at the edge of a cliff, looking out into the abyss. "Hello?" The figure was unmoving and unhearing of the confused blonde. "Hello!" Samantha's voice rose against the crackling energy of this mysterious place. Then, the figure turned and Samantha gasped.

The blonde hair that tangled in the wind matched her own and the face looking back at her was strikingly familiar. "Samantha," It was the voice she had heard night after night. When she finally stood in front of the woman she was stunned to see her features looking back at her. The woman, who had looked so sad before, suddenly smiled warmly down at her. She reached out toward Samantha, but before her fingers could brush her cheek an unexpected cold wind assulted their flesh. The ground froze over and it began to snow.

When Samantha looked back at the woman she saw a look of fear cross her face. "Don't let her find you." The woman reached out again and gripped Samantha's hand. Her skin was cold. "You must stay strong for your people, she will try and destroy you." Samantha shook her head, not understanding. "Who? Who is trying to destroy me?" A noise sounded in the distance like a freight train, shaking the ground, and the fear was replaced with sadness once again. "My child, my sweet little girl, you have the strength within you" Samantha's eyes went wide at the strange woman's words.

As the older woman began to disappear into the snow she smiled again. "You are the voice." Samantha reached for her. "Wait!" The woman was gone, leaving Samantha alone in the frigid emptiness. She whipped her head around, looking for the path she had so carelessly followed—that too was gone. "No." She stumbled through the snow, frozen and shivering. The loud rumble getting closer. She tilted her head and thought it sounded similar to hooves, beating against the ground. Jerking, she realized how close it sounded now. As she looked up she knew it was already too late. An onslaught of snow, shielding whatever was behind it, came barreling towards her. Samantha squeezed her eyes shut and screamed, her voice echoing through the white void.

She sat upright in bed; beads of sweat dotting her brow. "Sam?" The blonde blinked her eyes at the worried sound of Susan's voice. "Go back to sleep Su, I'm fine." She assured her friend, lying back down. "Another nightmare?" The brunette asked. "Mhmm, something like that." Her eyes fell shut soon after, the words of the mysterious woman drifting through her mind. Tomorrow they would be off to school as the rest of the world prepared for war.

A horn honked obnoxiously in the bustling streets of England. "Mind yourself love," a voice echoed. "I'm sorry," The young girl apologized. "Watch where you're going!" He shouted as she hurried across the street paying little attention to the oncoming traffic. A squeaky "wait for me" emanated from a young boy on the sidewalk and the world went on, the blimp in the order of things—forgotten.

"I heard about that bombing from Jessica yesterday, she said her cousin was a member of the evacuation team," Samantha pointed to the article that Susan was looking at. "It's just horrible. It makes me so mad it almost unbearable to talk about," Susan nodded her head and Samantha hummed in agreement.

Samantha and her family had come to the Pevensies from a populous city in America, famous for its stock exchange on Wall Street, theater on Broadway, and lady of liberty in the harbor. Her father had been promoted to the Vice President of a large company that manufactured steel and iron, a commodity valuable in a time of war. For months, the family ate, slept, and breathed work, trying to fit in with the British population. Samantha had met Susan through her boarding school, Saint Finbar's.

Through Susan, she was introduced to Peter, Susan's older and very proud brother, Edmund, her younger and very rebellious brother, and Lucy, her youngest and sweetest sibling. They had all grown very close, treating Samantha as if she was one of their own, and in just two weeks time, they would be celebrating a year since Susan first asked Samantha over for dinner.

For the Pevensie siblings, it had been a year since their adventure at their uncle's estate—an adventure constantly on their minds, but rarely spoken of—when Samantha came into their lives. Edmund had opened up to the sweet blonde and was happier whenever he relayed his readings to her during their many games of chess. The Pevensies' love for their new friend was contagious and Peter's crush on her, though never encouraged had begun when he first met the petite blonde. She loved Peter as she loved Edmund, Lucy, and Susan: fondly, as a sibling, but the strapping young man would not be deterred.

Susan and Samantha were the best of friends, always giving advice to each other and laughing about the antics of the boys they attended school with. Samantha made sure to include Lucy in all of their outings, much to the dismay of Susan at times, but the youngest Pevensie idolized her new friend and depended on her much like Susan.

Then the draft was put in place and Samantha's family unit as well as the Pevensies' good fortune took a turn for the worse. Families were relocated and both fathers left for war. The Pevensie children still received letters from their father who wrote about how much he missed them, but the letters from Samantha's father had stopped a long time ago.

Her father—"Killed in action", "Lost before his time", it didn't matter how the newspapers said it—was gone. Her mother was already in a fragile state and couldn't handle the loss of her childhood sweetheart and best friend and though Samantha tried to get through to her everyday, it was no use. Now they were both gone. Dead at the hands of war, evil, and hopelessness. That's when the Pevensies told her about their adventure to Narnia.

They had found her sobbing in the small closet below the steps and to comfort her, they told her a story about centaurs, mermaids, kings, queens, and the great lion, Aslan. At first she was skeptical but the stories made her forget her pain and she grew susceptible to the idea of a land in another world. She believed in Narnia, as much, if not more, than the Pevensies. She wanted to go to Narnia and be free. Free from the war, the death, the anger, and the inescapable darkness.

Samantha turned to Susan as she pointed out an article about the latest fashion in New York. The blonde smiled, thinking about her old stomping grounds. "You go to Saint Finbar's," A boy around Susan and Samantha's age approached the two girls and stirring them from their reading. He was talking to Susan, ignoring Samantha per usual.

"That's right," Susan looked up at him from the corner of her eye, not interested in what the boy with glasses wanted to ask her. He continued when she didn't. "I go to Hendon house—across the road," He paused. Susan glanced at Samantha who turned to hide a smirk. "I've seen you…" Susan turned and smiled at him but it quickly faded when he finished his thought. "…Sitting by yourself,"

"Yes well, I prefer to be left alone," Susan nodded her head and placed the newspaper back on the street vender cart. She turned toward Samantha who was looking across the street at the large clock. "Me too," The boy said. "What's your name?" She hesitated. "Phyllis,"

"Susan! Samantha! You'd better come quickly!" Lucy was frantic, rushing toward the girls. Susan turned back toward the boy, caught red handed. He looked at her, obviously hurt. "Susan, come on," Samantha sensed her friend's embarrassment and hooked her arm grabbing their suitcases.