Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: There's danger in the north. Giants hunt for Narnia's Kings and General. Who will survive when hope is eclipsed?

A/N: If you have not read the first nine stories in the A Light in the Darkness main story arc (Awakened, Shadowed, Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, Reflected, Veiled, and Unveiled), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Nineteen: Eclipsed

"Will you put off your destruction?" Edmund repeated. He moved closer to the Giants. "Will you put off your people's destruction by releasing us? It is your only chance."

Morfran sneered and then he carelessly slapped Edmund to the ground. "We will use you to put off our people's destruction. Or perhaps we shall use just your brother."

Edmund's vision swam and he tasted copper as blood filled his mouth from where he had bitten his tongue. His right side was throbbing in one dull ache. He bowed his head and spat blood onto the stony ground. "Fools. You have no idea the power that lies in the heart of Narnia or in Us because We are Aslan's own."

"Where is your Great Cat? He's been killed once. Maybe he was killed again," Fea mocked. "Your superstitions are as foolish as my kin's belief in murderous ghosts."

"And you, Lady, shall learn Aslan's power but I do not think you will enjoy the lesson. I-" Edmund cut himself as a horrible scream filled the air. "Peter!" He staggered to his feet and turned to see Nemain crouched over Peter, dragging him close to her by his dislocated arm. "No! Let him go!"

The Giantess dropped Peter in surprise as she turned her head to blink stupidly at him. "My prize broke." She abruptly raised her hand and balled into a fist. "Broke!"

"No!" Gathering his strength, Edmund snatched one of the Giant's knives and slashed Nemain's leg. The Giantess howled. He slashed again, this time cutting into the tendons between her knee and hamstring. As her leg began to crumple, he leapt to the other side and slashed out at her right leg. But the heavy awkward knife never scored another mark into the Giantess' leathery skin. Edmund caught a glimpse of a hand almost as wide as his torso was long a moment too late. The impact drove the air from his lungs and they seemed to curl in on themselves, screaming for relief, as his ribs cracked beneath the pressure and he was flung to the ground, gasping with the desperation of a drowning man caught in a storm-wild sea.

Fire. Every movement, every breath was fire licking at his side, his lungs, even his head, which spun like the little toy tops Lucy and Peter had let go spinning down the banisters. Much to Susan's resigned amusement and Corin's delight. Fea was raging but the words slid over his ears without ever dropping in as he slowly turned his head, cheek scraping against rocks as he did so, and stared as the two-headed Giantess stomped toward Nemain who was still thrashing and wailing where she had fallen. Oh Aslan, don't let her kick Peter.

Jeering laughter finally penetrated the drums pounding in his brains. Edmund braced one hand beneath him and pushed up, ignoring the pain and dizziness, until he could see the Giants rushing him. But then a voice called out once and the eager rush stopped, reluctantly and with many a muttered protest, but it stopped. Then Morfran shoved through the knot of Giants. He placed his hands on his hips, looping his thumbs and first fingers through the top of his wide, stained leather belt, and grinned down at where Edmund struggled to straighten up. "Will you put off your destruction, little king?"

Edmund glared. "And just how do you expect me to do that?"

He levered himself up so he could bring one foot beneath him, planting it solidly on the ground even though he remained half-crouched. His right arm pulsed with dull flashes of pain and his head threatened to spin with every movement. Every breath threatened to steal his sense away. But still he managed to stagger upright, even if he did list a little, and he stared up at Morfran. The dark Harfanger's small eyes gleamed with wicked amusement as he ran a six-fingered hand through his beard, setting the bones and beads clattering, before he boomed in unnecessarily loud tones, "Why through combat, little king! You use champions to fight for you, do you not? Come now and be your brother's champion. If you draw first blood, I will let him go south and let Narnia take one king back. As Nemain says, he is broken now."

"And who's fault is that?" Edmund snapped. He forced himself to stand straight and raised his left hand to point at the leering Giants gathered around them, their hideous grins cast into terrifying relief by the dying embers of the bonfire. "And who will keep them from killing me or my brother the moment it looks as though I might succeed in the challenge? And what weapon shall I use since I have none? Shall I pelt you with rocks and hope to bloody your nose faster than you can step on me? That is no champion's fight, Morfran. But perhaps you are content to only challenge someone when they are completely at the disadvantage even if it is the coward's way of handling such matters. Unfitting for champions and even more unfitting for one who would be a better king than Borak. But if that is the way you wish to fight then do not let my words trouble you or cause any consternation among your fellows. I'm sure they'll be content to follow a king who wouldn't even let a weak human attempt to have a fair fight and give you just a hint of challenge. Cowards are very popular leaders, you know."

The amusement had faded from Morfran's expression and now his teeth were bared in an ugly snarl as he plunged a hand into his pouch. "I am Morfran. I am not afraid of a human who will end his days in a pie! You wish to be armed, so be it." Edmund's heart leapt with impossible hope as the Harfanger yanked Shafhelm, still in its sheath, out of the pouch. He did not even growl when Morfran spitefully cast the sword to the ground just in front of him. The Harfanger sneered. "Take up your sword, little king, and fight me if you can."

Blackness closed in, threatening to completely swamp his vision, as he leaned down and picked Shafhelm up with his left hand but the familiar weight of the blade was a comfort. He awkwardly undid the buckle as he pushed through the pain of his ribs and right arm (he was beginning to think he had cracked something) then settled the belt around his hips. Drawing Shafhelm left-handed, Edmund shifted his weight until his right foot was behind him and he had most of his weight on his left leg. He flicked the blade up in a slight salute. "I draw first blood, Peter is returned to Narnia alive and with no further harm. Swear it."

"I swear by my grandfather's left hand."

There was a mocking edge to Morfran's tone and, under normal circumstances, Edmund would not have agreed to a hopeless battle. He would have found a loophole to exploit, something that would allow Narnia to walk away from the fight without losing face or ground. But this was not a normal battle. It was not even a normal champions' challenge. It was just another cruel machination of the Northern Giants as they reveled in proving their prey's weakness and hopeless position. But it was the only way to save Peter. It was the only way to try and get his lummox of a big brother home before the Giants killed him through neglect and tantrum. He knew he would not win the battle but he did not need to win. He only needed to draw the first blood to stain the ground. And, Aslan willing, that was exactly what he would do.

Tightening his grip on Shafhelm's hilt, Edmund lunged, swiping at Morfran's leg. Morfran stepped back with a belly laugh as he casually cradled his spear with one hand. "Come, little king, prove your strength."

It was dangerous to play Morfran's game. But he had no choice. Edmund turned and nearly went down on one knee when his vision swam nauseatingly. He closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose. The ground trembled beneath his feet. Morfran was coming closer. Edmund didn't move. The heavy steps came even closer. Edmund lunged, Shahelm flashing in the dull light of the dying fire, and Morfran sidestepped. The sword tore through his filthy leggings but drew no blood. Morfran's spear haft smacked into Edmund's right side and hip, knocking him off his feet. Shafhelm fell with a clatter. Edmund could taste blood in his mouth again. He swallowed it then rolled onto his back and gasped as sharp lances of pain tore into his ribs, his side, and his hip with as much enthusiasm as the Greybacks tore into the gardens when they were bothering Sophocles. His ears rang and the drums pounding on his brains had picked up the tempo like a score of drunk Dwarfs were trying to outdo each other.

Peter needed him. He had to draw first blood. Flinging out his left hand, Edmund felt across the cold stone ground until he touched metal. His fingers wrapped around the pommel and dragged Shafhelm toward him. He needed to sit up but his head was too heavy. The ground trembled and Morfran's odious laughter boomed out. Edmund blinked, trying to clear his vision, and then he rolled over onto his left side, still clinging to the sword. He just needed to cut him once. Morfran laughed and leered as he stomped closer, swinging the butt of the spear toward him, but then he leaned down and reached out as he mocked, "What's this, little king? Are you going to sleep now? Wake up! Wake up! Wake up and fight for your brother! Have you surrendered?" His hand came closer as he added, "Where is your lion now?"

"Here," Edmund rasped then he grasped Shafhelm with his right hand, pushed up on his left elbow, and swung with all his might at Morfran's six fingers. The pain was unbearable and he felt something snap in his wrist but it was Morfran who howled and yanked his hand away. Fat drops of dark red blood bubbled up from the deep cut in the flesh of his littlest finger and then tumbled like drops of ruby rain to splash the ground. He swung the butt of spear toward Edmund's chest with far more force than any of his other strikes. Edmund let Shafhelm fall as he called as loudly as he could, "First blood!"

Then a large shadow lunged between him and the spear. Edmund's eyes widened as the solid wood collided with Peter's shoulder and chest with an awful crack. His brother's dirty, bearded face went completely white, showing even through the filth, but he didn't utter a sound as he fell heavily, landing on Edmund's legs.

Edmund screamed, "Noooo! Peeeeeter! Noooo!" He couldn't tell if he was breathing. Oh Aslan, he couldn't tell if he was breathing.

Morfran's evil chuckle grated against his ears as he once more raised his spear. "Your brother is free now." He flipped the spear around so now the spearhead pointed toward Edmund's legs. "Now for you."

"You swore," Edmund gasped in a last desperate attempt to divert the Giant's attention, "you swore by your grandfather's left hand you would let him go."

Morfran laughed. "My grandfather had no left hand. Morrigan cut it off. I shall take only your leg. Nemain will not mind. I shall not take-" He cut himself off as a terrified cry erupted from the darkness to the north of the camp. The Giants are shifted about nervously, some of them stooping and raising their arms to cover their heads as though that would protect them from whatever now hunted in the fading darkness. Morfran scowled, lowering his spear slightly, and snapped, "Torgern, go see what it is and find that idiot Vorsh."

One of the Harfangers looked nervously at him but then he grasped his cudgel and stomped to the darkest shadows. He didn't even reach the edge of the camp when he suddenly screamed. Edmund's eyes widened in disbelief as the Giant tumbled back, thrashing as a huge shadow bowled him over, then Torgern shuddered, an ugly gurgle filling the air for the briefest of moments, and then he went still. The shadow moved away from the fallen Harfanger and raised a claymore dark with blood. Stern and with the promise of death written across his dark face, Oreius emerged into the fading light of the fire. "You wish a battle of champions, Morfran of Harfang?"

Morfran's eyes narrowed as he uttered a blistering oath and then rumbled, "You again. This time I'll bite off your head." He charged the Centaur with a shout.

Edmund stared at the General. His aching head didn't want to speculate but the odd thought occurred to him that perhaps Oreius had taken up haunting. His attention was yanked away from the Centaur who might be dead when his right arm was suddenly crushed. A yell escaped him as he was dragged out from under Peter's bulk. Fea sneered at him. "Where is your lion now, little king?"

She didn't give him the chance to answer before she tossed him toward the bonfire, he could feel the last lingering heat against his back but his limbs refused to obey him when he tried to rise, tried to get between her and Peter. Fea crouched down next to his brother and then she placed two fingers against his chest and began to push down. Peter screamed before the pressure cut off his breath. Fea's larger head laughed idiotically. "Bye Prize. Bye Prize. Prize in Pie."

She kept pressing down. Peter's struggles were growing weaker and weaker. Edmund fought his own weakness as he tried again to get up, to get back to Peter and stop her from killing him. Blood filled his mouth and he could taste its bitter copper with painful clarity. He spat the blood out then put his right hand down on the ground. The white-hot pain nearly sent him toppling on his face again and a scream was torn free as he teetered onto his left hand, removing the pressure. He glanced down and noted with an almost dazed disinterest that he could see white poking through his skin just above his wrist. Susan was going to have a fit when she saw it.

"Fea! Fea! Morfran! Morfran!" The frantic call barely penetrated the fog now threatening to steal over his sense but Edmund looked around to see Nemain curled on her side, hugging her wounded leg to her chest, but her face was turned away from them and she was pointing at . . . a cat. No, a Big Cat and . . . a woman as they attacked another Harfanger. Nemain whimpered pathetically as she tried to back away from Kat and Ptah, not realizing they were ignoring her.

Fea took several steps toward her kinswoman but then she stopped, watching as Kat grabbed the cudgel just as the Giant was lifting and used his own strength against him until she could throw a knife into his eye. His howl filled the air just as two more roars echoed out of the shadows. Big Cat roars.

Edmund's bloody lips tilted up into a slight smile as the Giantess turned both heads to stare at him. "Aslan hears."

Her glowers were wondrous but then her gaze left him and a murderous light kindled in the smaller head's eyes while her larger head just gaped idiotically. Edmund followed her gaze and twisted to look over his shoulder. A Nymph, green beech leaves in her nut-brown hair and clad in a diaphanous, spring-bright green gown, was kneeling beside Peter. Her slender fingers were combing through his brother's hair as she gently lifted his head into her lap. Edmund blinked. Thalia. But how? He didn't know. But this was certainly not the reunion he had hoped to give the two. What was Peter going to say when he realized his precious wife was here and about to join him in death?

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The leader of the Harfangers would never be allowed to harm his colts again. Nor would he be permitted to harm any other innocents. Oreius backed slowly away from the dark-haired Giant, allowing him to believe that he was winning.

He reared as Morfran's spear flashed low, sweeping toward his forelegs. Bringing the claymore down, he sliced deeply into the Giant's arm. The Harfanger fell back with a curse but then he swept the spear toward him once more, this time haft first. Oreius leapt to the side but was forced to shorten his jump by the rocky outcropping to his left. The spear haft slammed into his horse ribs and rammed him against the outcropping, driving the breath from him.

Oreius wrapped a hand around the spear haft and shoved it away then he galloped forward, raising his claymore once more. He scored the Giant's right thigh but Morfran scrambled back before he could sever a tendon and cripple him. The spear once more collided with Oreius' ribs and knocked him off his hooves. He landed heavily on his side but got his hooves beneath him and surged up before the Giant could follow through with another attack.

He could hear screams and cries of alarm rising from the camp. The others must have begun their assault. Morfran looked over his shoulder and Oreius lunged. His claymore punctured Morfran's gut and the Giant let out a cry before he grabbed Oreius by the upper arm and hurled him away.

Pain flared as his right shoulder was dislocated and the Centaur struggled to get back up. Morfran bore down on him. Oreius swung the claymore hard against the sword, severing the head from the haft, but he could not completely block the strike. The spear haft rammed into his wounded shoulder and a shard of wood pierced him. Ignoring it, the Centaur shoved the spear away, causing Morfran to stumble closer, and then he drove his claymore up beneath the Giant's ribs until he struck lung and heart. Morfran's cruel eyes widened suddenly and he frantically pawed at the claymore but it was too late. His movements slowed and grew jerky until they finally ceased all together. The Harfanger staggered and then slumped to the ground, his eyes wide and clouded by death.

Oreius freed his claymore and wiped the blade on the Giant's torn tunic. Outraged shouts and the ground shaking beneath his hooves were the only warning. He jumped back instinctively as a cudgel swept through the air in front of him. A Giant gave a brutish laugh and Oreius let out a wordless battle cry as he reared then charged. They both tumbled to the ground and his claymore bit deep into the Giant's side. The Harfanger cried out and swatted him to the side. Oreius gained his hooves but the Giant was already scrabbling away from him, one large hand pressed against his bloodied side. He turned and fled north, ignoring his companion's jeers and shouts to keep fighting.

Oreius let out a breath then grimaced as pain licked his shoulder when he attempted to raise the claymore once more. He had pushed too far. Sheathing his claymore, he drew a single one-handed sword as the remaining Giant turned back toward him. They charged at the same time. Sword and cudgel both swung but it was Oreius who moved too slowly now. His blade cut into the Ettin's arm but he failed to put enough distance between himself and the cudgel. He felt his ribs, both horse and human, snap as the cudgel swatted him to the ground.

Breathing hurt but Oreius forced himself to regain his hooves. He could not allow any Giant he could stop to turn back. The colts, the fillies, Alambiel, they all needed him to succeed in thinning out their enemy. He could not and would not stop. He charged the Giant once more, this time he leapt over the cudgel and drove his sword point first into the Giant's stomach. The Giant shouted in fury and pain then reversed his swing. The cudgel once more bore Oreius to the ground. He felt one of his legs snap.

Pain threatened to overwhelm him. "Aslan." He had no more breath to spare, not even for his desperate plea, but he knew the Great Lion heard him all the same. Oreius scrambled back to his hooves then reared. The Giant raised his cudgel then gasped and his weapon slipped from his limp fingers as he slapped a hand against the sword that had been driven between his ribs. Death's white film was already creeping over his piggish eyes as he turned a glare on Oreius and then he reached out with his last strength and knocked the Centaur to the ground once again. Pain at last won as his broken bones ground against each other. Oreius gasped as the darkness crept across his vision. In the distance, he thought he heard Alambiel cry out, "Oreius!" But darkness took him and he knew no more.

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Her poor Peter. Oh, her poor, brave oak. Thalia stroked her fingers through his filthy, matted hair then leaned down to press soft kisses against his brow as she murmured, "Peter, oh Peter. Oh my poor Peter. You must wake."

He stirred and the sun began to shine on her Tree again, warming her from root to canopy, as hope gained strength. His eyelids fluttered and then he opened them, allowing her to see his eyes that were the color of the sky and sea. His swollen, bruised lips parted slightly and he started to try to sit up. "T-Thalia? Wh-where?"

"No, do not try to move yet." She pressed another kiss to his brow. "Shh, we have come to take you home. Just lie still for now."

Peter looked at her with a touch of confusion. "I'm dreaming. I'm sorry, Flower. Never meant to get so many people hurt. They're all dead because of me."

"No," Thalia whispered as she stroked his matted hair. "Oh no, Peter, you mustn't think that. You mustn't-"

The ground shook. Thalia looked up and met the hate-filled gazes of Fea's two heads. Even though her larger head was cross-eyed, there was no lack of focus on the Giantess' part. She held up a notched knife and ran toward them, her feet pounding against the ground. Thalia's hand fell to the slender pipe at her belt. Raising the dartpipe to her mouth, she blew into it. The Giantess raised a hand to one of her throats. She plucked the dart out and the smaller head stared at it for a moment before she turned a hateful glare on Thalia. "You will die."

She took a step toward her then her larger head gasped and one of her hands began clawing at her throat. Thalia lowered the dartpipe but she didn't flinch away from the Giantess. Instead, anger's hot flames licked her Tree as she raised her chin. "No, it is you who shall perish. And you will perish swiftly but only because there is no torment in this life that would make you suffer enough to repay the harm you have caused to my husband and brother."

Fea choked as foam appeared at the corners of her mouths. She took another menacing step toward them but then her eyes filled with fear and desperation as she gasped and choked once more. The Giantess let out a strangled curse and then staggered back several steps before she finally fell to her knees. She looked at Thalia once more but there was no peace in her eyes, only fear and despair as she died. Fea choked once and then, with a final shudder, her eyes closed and she fell facedown on the ground.

Thalia shook her head, feeling a vague sorrow that the Giantess had died without knowing Aslan. A pained groan caught her attention just as Edmund crawled over to them. Her husband's brother looked almost as terrible as he did but his dark eyes glinted with sardonic humor. "Thalia, have I ever told you that you're far scarier than I ever thought you could be?"

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Remus snarled as he bit one of the Giants on the hand. He curled his lips and stuck his tongue out, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. The Giant tasted worse than the celery sticks he tried to eat when Alpha wasn't looking. The Giant tried to step on Queen Lucy. Remus leapt forward and bit him in the ankle while Romulus tore a strip from his other hand. The Giant squawked and wailed like the silly geese at home then Queen Lucy bit him with an arrow.

Remus' nose twitched and then he let go of the Giant and unleashed a joyous howl, tail wagging so hard that he wriggled. "Alpha! Alpha! Romulus, Queen Lucy! Alpha's here!" He howled again then yipped as he bounded over a dead Giantess and spotted him. King Peter was lying on the ground and his mate was with him. Alpha was sitting funny but he looked up when Remus howled. "Alpha! Alpha! We found you! We found you!"

He barreled into Alpha, knocking him flat, and then immediately leapt off him, whimpering an apology as Alpha yelped in pain. Remus licked his cheek. "I'm sorry, Alpha. The Giants hurt you. But I bit a bunch of them!"

Romulus shouldered past him. "And I brought Queen Lucy!"

Remus shoved him with his shoulder, looking down his nose at him. "I brought her! You just followed." He turned back to Alpha and licked him again. "Alpha, you let your fur grow out. Are you going to keep it? How come you keep trying to take it off? Is your face warmer now? You should groom it more often though. You rolled in the dirt without splashing in water."

Alpha looked at him and then huffed a little bark. "Still alive."

"Of course, you're alive, Alpha," Romulus stated.

Remus nodded happily. "Because we found you before the Giants could chew on you."

"Edmund! Peter!" Queen Lucy ran over to them. She hugged Alpha despite his growling then she gasped as she picked up Alpha's injured front leg. "Oh, Edmund, this one is bad. Susan's going to have a fit."

Alpha smirked, his teeth just showing in a very Wolf-like grin. "Maybe she'll get mad at Peter instead. He's been unconscious."

The High King mumbled, "Amn't." Then his mate shushed him.

"Not a word," Alpha gasped. "Don't touch, Lu!"

Queen Lucy shook her head. "At least you two can bicker. Susan's going to have words with both of you. How many Giants are there?"

"Fifteen, originally. Not sure how many now." Alpha groaned then pulled away from his littermate. "But, Lu- Look out!"

Remus whirled, ruff standing up, and snarled. Another Giant lumbered toward them. Romulus joined him as he barreled toward the Giant then they split and circled on either side of the Giant. Remus ducked as the Giant swung a log at him then jumped up and bit his wrist. The Giant shouted and tried to shake him off but Remus hung on. He was not going to let a Giant hurt his Alpha again. Growling, he shook his head and bit down harder. The Giant shouted then yelped again and Remus knew his brother had sunk his teeth into him too. The Giant staggered around, bellowing louder than an angry bull Moose, then he gargled like someone had caught him by the throat finally and he started to collapse. Remus let go with a yip of triumph and wagged his tail as he watched the Giant fall over. He howled and touched his nose to Romulus when they met in front of the Giant.

"Remus! Romulus! Come here!"

Queen Lucy waved at them as she held her bow with one paw. The brothers raced over to her, tails wagging and eyes shining. Remus' tongue lolled out in a happy grin. "We did it, Queen Lucy!"

She smiled. "Yes, you did. Now remember, you two stay close and help me keep Edmund and Peter safe. The Giants are coming back over here."

Remus stopped smiling and bared his teeth in a snarl as he whirled to face the coming Giants again. Three of them this time. They were bigger than the other one.

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Alambiel ducked between the Giant's legs, slashing with her knives, not to cripple him, just to annoy. The Giant swore at her and reversed the swing of his cudgel. She grinned, sheathed her knives, and jumped on the cudgel, narrowly avoiding the spikes. Thank Aslan, the sides of the spikes were dull so she could brace herself against them. The Giant stared at her, befuddlement making his mouth drop open. She laughed. "Try the other way again! Maybe you'll shake me off!"

His mouth closed and his eyes narrowed. "Smash you."

He swung the cudgel and Alambiel let herself drop to the ground then she ran forward, jumping up on a rock as she drew her knives before leaping at the Giant. The Giant was too high, but that didn't last. He slammed down on a knee as a Leopard roared and Ptah leapt on his back, biting and clawing his way up to his neck. Alambiel slammed into his face and dug her knives into the tender flesh around his eyes. He howled then tried to bite her. She kicked him in the nose and carved a furrow across his brow, thick blood spilling up and falling into his eyes, blinding him. He swiped wildly at his face and Alambiel jumped off, narrowly missing being crushed by his flailing hands. Ptah roared then bit him in the side of his neck, severing his carotid artery, before he leapt down.

Alambiel scanned the camp. It was in utter chaos. Some of the Giants were fleeing, others struggled to fight, and at least two had been incapacitated. They might actually get out of this one alive. Her gaze stopped on a still figure some hundred yards from her. "Oreius." She had seen him fall but somehow she had expected him to be up and in the midst of fighting by now. "Oreius!" He didn't move. She wasn't close enough to see if he was breathing but the eerie sense that her greatest fear had come to life again enveloped her. She started running toward him. "Oreius, get up!"

She had almost reached him when she felt a yank on her skirt that dragged her to the ground. A spear sped through the spot she had just been. Alambiel looked at Ptah. "No."

She tried to pull away but the Leopard pinned her to the ground, growling, "You can't. Look. Listen."

Something in his raspy command penetrated her frantic need to get to Oreius, to see if he was still alive. Then she heard it. The harsh sound of a horn blasting three times in a row. She turned her head. The two-headed Ettin, the one Thalia said was named Culhwch, was blowing on the horn . . . and his call was being answered. More Ettins were scrambling from the western canyons. They had almost pared the number done to a manageable one but now . . . Oh Aslan.

She scrambled to her feet and cast one last look at Oreius. He was hurt. She could see something was wrong with at least one of his legs. And there wasn't a thing she could do for him right now. She looked down for a moment and then spun and raced back to the alcove where the boys had been with Ptah by her side. The Giants' jeers chased her, mocked her.

The Tigers, Bast and Babur, came limping out of the shadows, looking worse for wear. Bast was favoring her right front paw and Babur's left side was matted with blood. At least they were all still alive.

There were two Giants attempting to crush Lucy and the Wolves. Alambiel let out a battle cry then she and Ptah attacked the near Giant's legs. Bast and Babur went after the far Giant. Alambiel caught Lucy's eye and shouted, "Do it now!"

The Valiant Queen gave a curt nod then drew an arrow back to her cheek. She loosed the arrow, which struck the far Giant in the eye. The Tigers tripped him so he tumbled onto his back, dead before he hit the ground. Then the Tigers came after the last Giant. Alambiel dodged his flying fist and grabbed one of her heavier throwing knives. She hurled it at the Giant, who howled when it lodged in the fleshy part of his arm just above his elbow. Then his howl turned into a gurgle when Lucy's arrow caught him in the throat.

After he fell, Alambiel froze in dismay. Culhwch had rallied his forces. Seven Giants stood with him. He raised his cudgel and spear in the air then swung the spear down, levelling it at their small group. "Destroy them!"

Oh they were in so much trouble. She didn't even think that they were going to get out of this one. She looked over her shoulder at their wounded, exhausted group. They had lost Oreius. The Tigers were wounded as were the boys. Even the Wolves looked a little roughed up. They could not possibly hope to defeat eight more Giants. Oh Aslan, save us.

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Oh Aslan, there were even more Giants. Ettins. Thalia looked down at Peter who had closed his eyes again then she lifted her head in time to see the Princess Royal speaking to Lucy and then motioning for her to go back. Lucy ran to them, her eyes wide and filled with a grim determination. "Kat wants us to move them to the back of this alcove. We should start with Peter; take his head and shoulder, but be careful of his wounds. I'll get his legs."

Thalia nodded then stroked Peter's cheek one last time as she pressed a kiss to his lips. "Be strong, my brave oak. We will try not to cause you too much pain."

It was difficult to hold him without grasping both of his broad shoulders. Indeed, they ended up dragging his rump along the ground because the two of them together simply weren't able to lift him high enough. But, at last, they moved him as close to the cliff face as possible. Thalia dug a rumpled handkerchief out of her bag and gently wiped the sweat and dirt from his face. "Peter?"

He groaned but did not answer. Her heart yearned to linger with him, to tend his wounds until he was mended, but she could not. She touched his face one last time and then hurried to help move Edmund. Her brother-in-law was awake and thus able to take some of his own weight but his legs buckled when his sister accidentally brushed against his broken arm. They caught him before he could do more damage but Thalia could see that Edmund had broken enough of his branches that he would not be able to last long on his own at the moment.

The harsh horn sounded once more and she heard the Beasts answer with growls, roars, and howls. She gazed upon her strong oak one last time and then she picked up her dartpipe, slipped another dart into it, and raced to the mouth of the alcove. Alambiel, Ptah, and Babur had already taken up positions a little ways out from the alcove. Two Giants broke ahead of their fellows and charged with spear and sword in hand. Thalia raised the dartpipe to her lips and blew. One of the Giants staggered then kept lumbering forward, only now his attention was fixed on her. She felt the cold frost of fear until she thought of Peter. He needed her to be strong, to be brave. She would not fail him.

She grabbed another dart and blew. The Giant slapped at his face then his steps finally began to grow sluggish as his breaths came in wheezing gasps then he fell. He hit the ground with such force that Thalia was toppled. Her dartpipe slipped from her fingers. More Giants were coming, their bounding strides shaking the earth, and she could not find the pipe. A huge shadow fell across her. Thalia looked up into the leering face of a one-eyed Giant. She screamed, "Aslan! Aslan! Save us! Help us! Aslan!"

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Thalia was screaming. Peter opened his eyes and raised his head. "Thalia." At first, he didn't believe what he was seeing. His sister, his wife, and Kat were fighting Giants along with several familiar Beasts. He frowned at the two Tigers. "Babur?" But no, it couldn't be. Babur was dead. Crushed by Morfran.

Thalia screamed again. Peter could see a Giant bearing down on her. No. Not his Flower. He struggled to get up but his limbs refused to obey his frantic commands. "Thalia." But his cry was no more than a raspy croak. Oh Aslan, what she doing there? What were any of them doing there? They should have been safe in Cair Paravel. All his fault. It was all his fault.

"Aslan!" Lucy screamed as she loosed an arrow at the Giant attacking Thalia. He jerked away, howling a vile curse as he reached across his body to yank the arrow from his arm. Lucy reached back for another arrow but her fingers grasped nothing. The quiver was empty. "Aslan!"

"Aslan," Peter whispered brokenly. "Aslan."

Then Edmund coughed and rasped, "Aslan."

The Giants only laughed, odiously mocking as they forced Kat and the Beasts to fall back yet kept them from aiding Thalia or Lucy. Pale light began to filter into the camp. Dawn spilling its rays across the winter-touched sky. It did not warm the cold air that promised snow was no longer far off nor did it shine as brightly as he would have wished. It bathed the camp, the bodies, and the fighters in a light that was as pale and frail as his hope. But there was light and it was no longer eclipsed by shadows and darkness.

Peter could almost hear the sweet call of Narnia trumpets as dawn overtook the camp. Indeed, he thought he heard . . . He thought he heard . . . The fighting stilled as the Giants all turned to the southeast. Kat raised her sword and shouted in relief. Peter licked his lips. "Ed? Is that?"

"For Narnia and for Aslan!" The familiar battle cry echoed through the canyons and washed over him. Peter pushed himself up on his good elbow, trying to see. The Narnian horns sounded the charge and then galloping hooves, pounding feet, and roars from many different creatures filled the air. Narnians in silver armor and red tunics attacked the Giants. Five heavy Centaur lancers bowled over every Giant they met with ease. Big Cats, Fauns, Satyrs, and several Elk and two Water Buffalo joined in the fray. Arrows hissed through the air, driving back or killing the Giants who had been menacing the girls.

Culhwch bared his teeth in twin ugly snarls but then he sounded a single long note on his horn. Spinning on his heel, he ran to the west with two more Ettins following him. They managed to outrun the Narnians but their fellows were summarily caught and killed. One of the Centaur lancers and a grizzled Satyr approached Kat. They both snapped a salute.

Peter's elbow slipped as he tried to lever himself up further so he could see Thalia. He caught himself with his other hand. That is, he attempted to catch himself with his other hand but pain swirled around him at the movement. It dragged him down into the whirlpool until there was only darkness left.

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A/N: Please Read and Review! Well, that was intense. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.