The night was moonless and starless, but the dark had nothing on the bitter cold. Susan's sturdy travelling clothes were worthless against it. She almost turned and fled, back to the warmer interstice between the worlds, but she saw an almost familiar light up ahead. For all the danger, she had to know.

The bone dry ground crunched beneath her boots as she hurried forward. There was no mistaking it, but she walked nearer anyway, as if her stinging eyes might have deceived her. The lamppost still shone a weak light across a dead world, one that she never thought she would chance upon again.

Susan didn't dare touch it. Narnia or no, she needed to leave. Immediately. This cold would kill quickly. Susan tore herself away and turned around.

A great lion now stood between her and the gate. She had not sensed his approach. His golden fur glowed softly, a brighter light than the lamp offered, and he radiated warmth. But wasn't feeling warm among the final stages of hypothermia? Susan bowed her head. "Greetings, Aslan."

Aslan took a heavy step towards her. "Greetings to you too, Susan, though you were not to return here."

"It was an accident – I didn't know this gate led here. Besides, how is this Narnia?" She had her doubts about Narnia, to put it mildly, but it had been unquestionably alive.

"This is Narnia's shadow." Its corpse. Unending winter had been mild compared to this.

He could kill her if he wanted, and there would be nothing she could do about it. Perhaps that gave her courage. "Did you do this?"

"I did. I sang this world into being, and I ended it, bringing forth the true Narnia."

"I see."

"You do not. But you might yet, and you too might go there." Susan had a pretty good idea what going there would mean. Her siblings had all died while trying to return to Narnia. Had they seen this? Hopefully not.

Had Aslan killed them?

Even if her bow were not stowed, if her hands were not too frozen to notch an arrow, if the distance were not too short for a shot, you were unlikely to kill a god with sport archery equipment. There was no point dying to make a gesture towards retribution, revenge. She missed her family fiercely but her life mattered. Not making the attempt didn't promise her safety in the slightest, but if she tried and failed, Aslan was sure to devour her.

Besides, sour grapes it may be, but she didn't want to kill him. He had once sacrificed himself for Edmund. Aslan could be kind, even if he so often wasn't.

In the end, Susan was nobody's executioner. "I still need to find my way."

"You do, but remember that there is only one. Do not tarry too long."

"Thank you." Susan had no intention to linger. She did not want to perish in a childhood ghost while many worlds awaited. "I will keep that in mind." With that, she walked briskly past him, back to the gate.

The End