The children had abandoned their coats long ago. The air had dried their wet clothes in no time at all, and no one was cold anymore.
All around, the forest was bursting into spring. Where there used to be snow, the trees were now exploding with vibrant green leaves. The leaves had a dappling effect, creating pockets of sunlight on the forest floor. Anna moved in and out of the sunlight, enjoying the contrasting feeling of the warm sun and cool shade.
Flowers of all colors bloomed at rapid speed, going from small buds to large blossoms in less than a minute. Anna stopped to watch daffodils and bluebells slowly open up, like they were stretching their arms after a long nap.
Anna loved flowers. She always had, ever since she read a story where a fairy fashioned clothes from flower petals. Christine had started keeping a meticulous garden after she moved into Anna's house. Anna loved lying among the flower bushes, smelling their sweet aroma and listening to the bees buzzing as they collected honey. She imagined the bees were maids to a fairy princess, tasked with collecting the most beautiful flower petals for her ballgown.
Sometimes Anna would pick some of the flowers to press into her books, so she could keep a piece of springtime with her even after the flowers died. She got caught doing this when Chrstine noticed one of her favorite plants was flowerless, and Anna was forbidden from going near the garden. But that didn't stop her from sneaking out and picking a flower every now and again.
As they passed by a small pond, Anna saw movement from the corner of her eye. She paused and saw two female heads peeking out of the water. They didn't have skin and hair like her; they looked as if they were made of living water. She could see them pointing to her and whispering in a language that sounded like water running down a stream. Unsure of what to do, Anna smiled and gave a small curtsy. The girls giggled and bowed their heads back at her before disappearing under the water. Anna turned and jogged to catch up with the others.
Eventually, after the weather went from January to May in a single afternoon, the forest opened up and a valley stretched before them. The Beavers led in front of Peter and Susan, and Anna followed in the back behind Lucy.
It was a few minutes later when they arrived at Aslan's camp. Red and gold tents and pavilions covered the valley. Flags flew high above the tents, featuring a red roaring lion. Anna could hear the sounds of hammering metal and could see Narnians moving within the camp. From a nearby hill, a trumpet sounded to herald their arrival. The Beavers didn't hesitate as they led the children into the camp.
Anna stared with wide eyes at all the creatures they walked past. There were centaurs whose human halves were tall and muscular. There were fauns, like Tumnus, as well as satyrs, dryads, and even more creatures Anna couldn't identify. She also noticed what she assumed were packs of Talking Animals: hogs, bears, gorillas, horses, leopards, and more. Everyone they passed was wearing red and gold armor. She looked at Lucy, who was also in awe, and both girls smiled at seeing so many Narnians in one place.
Swords, shields, and other weapons gleamed in the afternoon sunlight outside the tents. As Anna and the other children made their way through the camp, the hammering died down and the creatures who had been working stopped to look at them as they passed.
"Why are they all staring at us?" Susan said through her smile, looking uncomfortably around at the Narnians that had started following them.
"Maybe they think you look funny," Lucy smirked. Peter and Anna laughed, and Susan self-consciously fixed her hair.
The four children and the Beavers led the procession to the center of the camp, where a centaur stood in front of a tent. His hair, eyes, and horse-half were dark, and he looked at the humans with a stern and curious expression. Anna momentarily wondered if this was Aslan, but quickly dismissed it. If this were Aslan, she thought, she would be able to feel it. She didn't know why, but somehow, she knew she'd recognize Aslan instantly.
They came to a stop in front of the centaur. Nobody said anything for a while; the camp was quiet, like everyone was holding their breath. Mr. Beaver cleared his throat and gestured to Peter.
"Go on," he whispered.
"No," Peter whispered back. "You talk first."
"No, Sons of Adam before animals," Mr. Beaver said and took a step back.
Peter huffed. "Susan," he whispered to his sister, "What about you? Ladies first."
"No!" Susan hissed. "You're the eldest."
Peter turned to Anna. "Anna, how about it? You're the eldest in your family."
Anna quickly shook her head. "It's not my prophecy."
Peter let out a breath of exasperation. By this point, some of the Narnians were chattering awkwardly and looked confused. It was up to Peter to speak. He drew his sword and looked the centaur in the eye.
"We have come to see Aslan," he said, somewhat nervously.
The centaur said nothing, but he nodded to the tent. Anna turned around when she heard the noise of people moving. All around, the Narnians were going on their knees, bowing their heads in reverence. Even the centaur had bent at his human waist in a low bow. Anna looked at Susan and Peter, wondering if they should be doing the same.
Before they had time, someone began emerging from the tent. First a paw, then a snout, and then a thick, golden mane. A large and proud Lion walked out and stood before them.
She didn't know what she expected Aslan to be like. She didn't imagine a Lion, but she didn't really imagine anything. When the Beavers described him, she didn't picture a shape–only a feeling. When Anna saw the Lion, a bumpy giddiness spread across her body, from her chest to her toes, like when your best friend whispers a beautiful secret in your ear. She knew at once that this was Aslan. She couldn't stop the smile that bloomed on her face.
The four children looked at each other, and then they too went to their knees, bowing respectfully to the Lion. They stayed like that for a few seconds, until Aslan spoke.
"Welcome Peter, Son of Adam," the Lion said in a deep, strong, yet equally graceful voice. "Welcome, Susan, Anna, and Lucy, Daughters of Eve."
How does he know our names? Anna wondered for a moment. It seemed so curious that this Lion that they were only just meeting somehow knew who they were. But if he was the King of the whole Wood like Beaver had said, it just made sense that he would know everyone.
"And welcome to you too, Beavers. You have my thanks." If beavers could blush, Anna was sure Mrs. Beaver would be as red as a rose. Both she and her husband beamed and bowed at Aslan.
Aslan cocked his head at the children. "But where is the second Son of Adam?"
"That's why we're here, sir," Peter said, standing up and sheathing his sword. Anna was shocked when all of the Narnians stood only after Peter did, like they were already waiting for his command. "We need your help."
"We had a little trouble along the way," Susan said. Peter and Susan looked at each other, silently trying to figure out how to explain.
"Our brother's been captured by the White Witch," Peter said gravely, and the Narnians behind them gasped and murmured.
"Captured?" Aslan asked. "How could this have happened?"
Peter and Susan down-casted their heads. Anna and Lucy looked at each other with concerned expressions but did not speak. None of them were eager to reveal what had happened with Edmund.
Mr. Beaver cleared his throat and took a step forward. "He…betrayed them, Your Majesty," he said grimly.
There were more gasps this time than when the Narnians had heard that Edmund had been captured. Anna chewed her lip, wanting to stick up for Edmund. When the centaur next to Aslan said, "Then he has betrayed us all!" Anna couldn't help but gasp out a "No!"
"Peace, Oreius," Aslan half-spoke, half-growled, silencing the chatter. He regarded the children once more. "I'm sure there's an explanation."
Again, the children were silent. Where would they even begin? Anna still didn't fully understand why Edmund had gone willingly to the Witch. He had seemed distracted, sort of distant just before he went missing. Perhaps he was under her spell. Or maybe she had threatened him. Or maybe some combination of spite and bitterness towards the world motivated him to do something that would have bigger consequences than he could have realized.
"It's my fault, really," Peter said softly, looking regretfully at the ground. "I was too hard on him." Anna wondered if he was replaying all the fights with Edmund in his head, all the times they took out their fear and anger on each other, imagining what he could have done differently.
Susan gently put her hand on her brother's shoulder. "We all were." Another silent conversation passed betweens siblings, one that seemed to say, I understand you, I forgive you, and we'll figure this out together.
Aslan nodded. His open expression told them that he understood their silent conversation, and that the matter was passed; there was no point dwelling on what could've been.
"Sir, he's our brother," Lucy said. everyone around could hear the soft pleading note in her words.
"I know, dear one," Aslan said. "But that only makes his betrayal all the worse. This may be harder than you think."
"But you will help him, won't you, sir?" Anna asked. "You'll try?"
Aslan regarded the children once again, and nodded. "We will do all we can for Edmund."
Anna chewed on her lip. The conversation didn't make her feel anymore confident than she had been earlier that day. But she had to believe Aslan would help Edmund–he was their only hope.
…
"Just one more stitch…and…finished!" The dryad who was hemming Anna's dress took a step back and admired her work.
Shortly after they were finished talking with Aslan, several dryads had whisked the girls away to help them settle in. Anna's attendant, Ashdancer, took the task very seriously and immediately began dressing her in Narnian clothes. Anna had stood on a little pedestal as still as possible while the dryad measured and mumbled to herself in some strange language that reminded Anna of leaves rustling in the wind. Mrs. Beaver came in to check on Anna, and Ashdancer immediately put her to work fixing Anna's hair. Anna felt like she was Cinderealla preparing for a ball with the help of fairy godmothers.
After some time of fussing with her dress, hair, and shoes, Ashdancer had announced that Anna was done. The girl turned and looked at herself in the mirror.
The gown selected by the dryad was purple, with floral embroidery done in gold thread around the sleeves and collar. It went down to her ankles, and the sleeves flared out a bit at the wrist so they weren't tight. The new shoes on her feet felt sturdy and secure, like she could run and climb without them slipping off. Pieces of her curly hair had been braided back with flowers, while the rest was left down around her shoulders.
"Oh, don't you look lovely!" Mrs. Beaver said.
Anna blushed. "Thank you."
"You look like such a Lady," Mrs. Beaver cooed, taking Anna's hands. "Ashdancer, you've outdone yourself." The dryad gave a satisfied smile and stared at Anna in the same way an artist looks at their finished masterpiece.
"Narnia suits you well," came a deep voice from the door. Anna turned around and saw Aslan walking into the tent.
"Thank you, sir," Anna said shyly. She carefully stepped off the pedestal, making sure not to trip over the bottom of her dress, and faced Aslan.
"A moment, Ashdancer, Beaver, if you will," Aslan said to the Narnians.
"Of course, My King," Mrs. Beaver said with a bow as she left. The dryad also gave a curtsy and glided out of the tent, leaving Anna and Aslan alone.
"There are a few things we must discuss, dear one," Aslan said at last.
He walked over to a chair and sat in front of it. Anna took the hint and sat next to him, but would not meet his eyes. As kind and good as he was, there was an undeniable awfulness about him. Not "bad" awful, but "full of fear and wonder" awful. Anna never thought that something that could bring her such a feeling of joy could also have such a fearsome presence. The Lion amazed her and intimidated her, and she felt overwhelmed being alone with him.
"Why do you not look at me, child?" Aslan asked.
"Oh, sorry," Anna said, suddenly worried about appearing rude, and looked at the Lion's golden eyes. When she looked into them, she felt an urge to tell him the truth. "I just wasn't sure…I mean, with me being here…"
"You doubt your place in Narnia," Aslan finished for her.
"Yes." She breathed in relief hearing Aslan say the source of her worries. "It's just that the prophecy…it speaks of two boys and two girls."
"This is true," Aslan agreed.
"And, well…I'm here. That makes three girls."
"So it does," he agreed once again. "Now, tell me this, dear one: why does that make you doubt your place here any more than the other children?"
"Well, it's just because the prophecy says that four children would come to Narnia, and it has to mean the Pevensies. They're siblings. I mean, it would make more sense than three siblings and one stranger." She paused, thought very carefully about what she meant, and finished with, "I just know, in my heart, that I'm not part of the prophecy. It's about the Pevensies, I just know it."
Aslan nodded. "Most of what you say is true. The prophecy is about the Pevensies, but I do not think you fully understand what the prophecy means. The Ancient Prophecy speaks of two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve breaking the Witch's spell. It does not, however, say that only two Sons of Adam and only two Daughters of Eve would come to Narnia."
Anna furrowed her brows. "I don't think I understand," she admitted.
"When the prophecy was made at the Beginning of Narnia, it said that the Evil that presided over the land would be defeated by two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve. But it does not say exactly how many humans would come to Narnia during its time of need. It only says how many will defeat the Witch. This is to say that an indefinite number of Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve could come during this time. Do you understand what I say, child?"
Anna nodded but was still unsure, and Aslan could see that.
"If you do not understand, don't be afraid to say so," he told her.
"Well, I do understand what you're saying, sir," Anna said. "But why would more people come to Narnia than is needed?"
"That would be for them to discover on their own," Aslan said.
"But Aslan…" She sighed. "I don't feel like I belong here. I feel like I don't serve a purpose. Is that wrong? Should I be feeling like this?"
Aslan shook his mane. "On the contrary, child—if you would be feeling anything but doubt, it would be wrong." He paused, and then said, "It is true, though, that you were not originally part of the plan for Narnia."
"Oh," Anna said crestfallenly. "So, does that mean…I came here by accident?"
"No one comes to Narnia by accident," Aslan said. "Each and every person who has walked on Narnian soil has a purpose here. But, I must tell you, though I'm sure you've guessed, that you will not be crowned with the other children when the time comes. There are only four thrones at Cair Paravel, one for each of the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve that were prophesied to defeat the White Witch,"
"Yes," Anna said. She had assumed that much, but she was glad that Aslan confirmed it. She wasn't upset or disappointed, but there was a nagging thought in the back of her mind. If the Pevensies would be crowned Kings and Queens of Narnia, where did that leave Anna?
"If you don't mind me asking, sir: What will I do after this is all over? Will I…go back to England on my own?" She couldn't imagine telling Professor Kirke where the other children were. Well, you see, sir, she would say, they're currently ruling as Kings and Queens in the country in your upstairs wardrobe. Shall we have tea?
"If you choose to," Aslan said. "Your future is yours to decide."
"What?" Anna asked with a confused frown. "I don't understand. Is my destiny in Narnia, or back home?"
"If you choose to stay in Narnia, your destiny will be here," Aslan said, "and if you return home, your destiny will be there. Our choices guide our path. Every choice you've made has brought you here, and every choice you make henceforth will steer you in the direction you were always meant to be in."
"But…what about the Pevensies?" she countered. "If they were part of the prophecy, where was their choice?"
"Their choices are what brought them here in the first place," Aslan said, "From Lucy entering Narnia and visiting Tumnus, to their choice to stay and explore Narnia; every time they choose not to turn back, and the journey to this camp: every decision brought them to this point." Aslan paused. "Besides, not everything was part of the prophecy. Meeting the Beavers. Tumnus' arrest. Edmund's betrayal." Anna took in a sharp breath. "Your friendship with Edmund. You, coming to Narnia." Aslan smiled at Anna again, and she softened. "None of this was part of the prophecy, but your decisions brought you here. Your choices will always shape your destiny."
Anna smiled softly, feeling more comfort than she had in a while. "Thank you, Aslan."
Aslan returned her smile. He stood up. "Now, I must go see the others. You should go out and speak with a centaur called Rosemane. I believe you will find her very helpful."
Aslan bowed his head slightly, and started walking to the tent flap. Anna had one more question sitting on the tip of her tongue, and she didn't know if she'd get another chance to speak to Aslan alone. Just as he was about to leave, Anna called out to him.
"Aslan?" she said. Aslan turned back and looked at her, waiting for her to speak.
"Why did Edmund go with her? The Witch, I mean," she asked.
"That is Edmund's story, child, and only his to know," Aslan said. "If he wishes to tell you, he will, when the time is right."
"But it couldn't have been just because he was upset with his family, right?" Anna pressed. "They care about him so much. Didn't he see that?"
"Sometimes anger over things we cannot control clouds our vision of the truth. You could understand that feeling. Did you not share similar thoughts about your own family, not long ago?"
Anna was confused about what Aslan was talking about at first. But then she quickly remembered the conversation: the one in the professor's attic at sunset, when she confessed her secret fears about her family to Edmund.
Was anger clouding her vision? Anna realized it was; she was upset that her father was taken away from her–not by her stepmother, as she always thought, but by the war. Instead of acknowledging this, she turned her anger towards her family.
She refused to spend time with her sister Heather or get close to her. But why? Of course they argued, but all siblings did. How many times had she seen the Pevensies argue since she'd met them? Yet, Susan and Peter always took care of each other. Lucy forgave them for doubting her story about Narnia. They were trying their hardest to rescue Edmund, despite his betrayal.
Anna recalled how many times she wished she had an older sister like Susan, only to realize: she was an older sister. She had a little sister she could take care of and support the same way Susan took care of Lucy. She could be someone Heather could confide in and look up to.
Then there was Christine. Anna's stepmother had been accepting and loving to Anna from the moment they met. Of course she set rules, but that's what parents do. She was never trying to restrict her, only take care of her. Even when Anna would roll her eyes, talk back, or say the most horrible things she could think of to hurt Christine, the woman rarely lost her temper with Anna. Everything she had ever done—even evacuating her from their home—had been because she truly loved Anna, and wanted what was best for her. Christine was probably just as scared as Anna was, as she took care of two daughters, unsure if her husband would come home. It wasn't Christine's fault Anna's father was sent away, but instead of allowing this situation to bring them closer, Anna drove a wedge into the family, forcing them apart.
"Oh, Aslan," Anna said mournfully, "I've made such an awful mess of things, haven't I?"
Aslan stepped closer and looked into her eyes. "It doesn't bear well to regret your past mistakes. Learn from them, and change your actions to reflect who you truly are."
Anna let his words settle over her and nodded vigorously. "I will. I'll make things right." She would be a better older sister to Heather. She would be a good daughter to Christine. She would try to make her family close again.
Aslan turned towards the tent flap once saying. "Remember this conversation, dear one, as you decide what your future will be like."
Aslan finally left. Anna stood and looked at herself in the mirror again, her head swimming. In a way, she felt empowered. The future was hers to choose; her destiny was up to her. On the other hand, she felt overwhelmed. Should she stay in Narnia and find her purpose here? Or should she return home to fix her past mistakes? The future loomed before her on a crossroad, waiting for her to decide which path to take.
But this was a decision for another day. She stepped out of the tent, and decided to take Aslan's previous advice; to find the centaur Rosemane.
…
Anna asked Red dwarf who was working on his sword where he could find Rosemane. When she walked up to the centaur from behind, she saw that Rosemane was not working on swords or armor like the others were. Rather, she stood before a table with an array of knives and daggers.
"Um…hello," Anna said nervously.
Rosemane turned her human half around a bit, and after she saw it was Anna who had approached her, she turned around completely.
"Ah, hello there," the centaur said cheerfully. "Are you Lady Anna or Princess Lucy?"
Anna reddened at being called "Lady" for the second time that day. "I'm Anna, ma'am," she replied.
Rosemane waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "No need for formalities. Just call me Rosemane. Or Captain, if you must use titles."
"Yes, ma'am—I mean, Captain," Anna said.
Rosemane smiled warmly. Her hair was dark and went down her back in loose waves, and her eyes were a sparkling amber. The skin on her human-half was a deep coffee brown, and her horse-half was dappled.
"Aslan said you wanted to see me," Anna said.
Rosemane gasped in disbelief. "Did he? How very curious. I never actually said I wanted to see you or Princess Lucy, but I have been thinking that I'd like to talk with you since I saw you humans enter the camp. Aslan's very funny that way. He knows his people well enough to know just what they're thinking."
Rosemane paused, waiting for Anna to reply. Anna, suddenly feeling shy, only smiled and nodded. Rosemane didn't mind, though, and continued explaining to her why she wanted to see her.
"Well, I wanted to talk to you because I couldn't help but notice the daggers that you and Princess Lucy wore on your belts," Rosemane said, gesturing to the belt strapped tightly around Anna's waist.
"Father Christmas gave them to us," Anna said.
"So I've heard. He gave my grandmother this dagger." She patted the one strapped to her human waist. "And she gave it to me when I was a child. I'm sure Father Christmas explained to you well that daggers are tools, not toys?"
"Yes, ma'ma–Captain," Anna replied.
"Very good." Rosemane nodded. "Have you held it yet?"
"Uh, no," Anna said, feeling kind of foolish for not having unsheathed before now. But Rosemane didn't look like she thought Anna was a fool. She smiled encouragingly.
"Go ahead and try it," she said.
Anna unclipped the buckle on her belt and pulled the dagger out of its sheath. The metal gleamed in the sunlight, its blade sharper than any icicle she'd had seen. But she didn't feel scared holding it like she expected. The grip fit her hand perfectly, and she felt surprisingly confident wielding it, like she already trusted it wouldn't fail her.
"Beautiful," Rosemane said with a glint in her eye. "It suits you."
"Really?" Anna asked as she studied her blade.
"Absolutely." Rosemane unsheathed her own dagger and stared at it lovingly. "You know, daggers are intimate weapons. You have to get close to someone to use one effectively. They're much more sensitive than other weapons, too. Some say knifesmen are more emotional and trustworthy than those who wield other weapons." She looked at her blade a moment longer, then resheathed it. "So say sentimental blacksmiths, anyway." Roseman turned and grabbed a small sword from her table. She offered it to Anna. "Do you want to try it?"
Anna sheathed her dagger and took the sword. It was lighter than expected, and much shorter than some of the other swords she'd seen at the camp. The grip wasn't as perfect as Anna's dagger, but it fit her proportions and felt comfortable enough.
"That looks like a good fit for you," Rosemane said, nodding in approval. "You could use something similar during the battle."
Suddenly, Anna felt the color drain from her face. She lowered the sword. "Uh, what?"
"Well, you'd need some practice, of course," Rosemane added. "I figured, with some proper training, that Princess Susan would do well with her bow. You and Princess Lucy could learn to use swords and daggers to defend yourselves in battle. I'd be willing to teach you myself."
"What battle?" Anna asked.
Rosemane actually laughed. "What do you think we're all preparing for? Aslan's preparing us to fight against the Witch's supporters. That's the whole reason you all came, isn't it? You're meant to lead us!"
Rosemane spoke like they were discussing an exciting sports match and not war. Anna's heart raced. She recalled the Beavers mentioning an army and a battle, but it all felt so out-of-reach back then. But now, the reality was right in front of her. Did she even want to fight? The confidence she felt while holding her dagger evaporated, and the thought of battle scared her.
"Listen," Rosemane said quickly, "No one is forcing you. But…General Oreius never lets me do anything in battle besides archery." Rosemane shook her head in frustration and looked at the ground. "I'm a lousy archer. I do much better on the battlefield with a sword in my hand. So if you fought, I'd be able to join the frontlines. I'd be beside you the whole time."
Anna averted her eyes and shuffled her feet. "I don't know. I really wasn't expecting to fight in any battles."
Rosemane bent at her human waist so she was closer to Anna's height. "Anna," she grabbed the girl's chin so that she was looking right at Anna's brown eyes, "If you truly do not wish to fight, you don't have to. I just assumed that you might want to."
Anna nodded gently. "I…need some time to think about it."
Rosemane sighed, seeing that she had upset the girl. She took the small sword from Anna's hand. "I'm sorry I brought it up. It was wrong of me to assume that you would want to fight."
Anna shook her head and forced a smile. "It's alright."
"Yes, but I shouldn't have assumed." Rosemane absentmindedly rearranged her daggers, avoiding Anna's eyes. Then she looked up, and smiled. "It doesn't matter if you don't want to battle. It doesn't make you a coward, either. Really, I think it's braver for you to admit that you don't want to than to go through with it just because I wanted you too."
Frankly, Anna didn't care for one moment if she looked like a coward, but she supposed that it was just the way warriors thought. They were all so concerned with honor and bravery and expected everyone else to be the same.
Anna could tell that beneath her smile, Rosemane was disappointed. Anna felt bad that she may have ruined Rosemane's chance of joining the frontlines, but if really was such a good fighter, why did Orieus assign her to be an archer? It was all too confusing.
Still, Anna wanted to make the centaur feel better. She thought for a moment, then gave Rosemane a genuine smile.
"Rosemane? Regardless of if I battle, could you teach me how to properly wield my dagger?" Anna figured it wouldn't hurt to learn some basic techniques.
Rosemane's face lit up. "Of course I will! Here, let's practice with a smaller knife before we use yours–Oh!"
At that moment, Rosemane turned and ran directly into the Red dwarf that had given Anna directions. He was trying to slip past, but Rosemane's abrupt movement sent them crashing into her table of daggers. There was a loud shattering as the table overturned and Rosemane's knives clattered on the ground.
"Huffin!" Rosemane cried. "Look what you've done!"
"Sorry, captain, truly sorry," the dwarf muttered in a gruff voice as he bent down and started collecting the knives.
Anna rushed over to help, but the dwarf shooed her away. "Stay back, milady," Huffin said. "You'll hurt yourself.
"By the Lion, Huffin, do stop mumbling and pick up those daggers!" Rosemane said.
Something in Anna's brain clicked at Rosemane's words. "What did you just say?"
"I told this sputtering fool to quit talking to himself and pick up my daggers!" she said.
"No, about the Lion," Anna pressed.
Rosemane tilted her head, and her soft brown hair cascading down her left side. "You mean 'By the Lion?'"
"Yes, that," Anna said. "What does it mean?"
"Well, it means…," Rosemane scratched her head. "Huh. I can't say I really know, to be honest."
"It's an exclamatory gesture that we Narnians use when we're angry or exasperated," Huffin said. "Or both." He took a glance at Rosemane, and then quickly went back to collecting the last of the knives. "You won't hear anyone south or north of Narnia saying it, though. There's no Calormene alive that'd use Aslan's name, even in anger."
"So it's about Aslan then?" Anna asked. "And only Narnians say it?"
"That'd be right, milady," Huffin replied, standing up and setting the rest of the fallen knives on the now upturned table. "I've heard a southerner utter the name of Aslan, except to curse him."
"Oh, enough of your idle chit-chat, Huffin," Rosemane said. "Go away. You've done enough damage here. I've got to polish all my knives again."
"What good is it to polish your daggers before you get blood on them?" Huffin muttered.
Rosemane scoffed at this and told Huffin to mind his own weapons. Huffin tried to defend himself, and he and Rosemane kept arguing back and forth. Anna wasn't really listening. She was thinking over what Huffin had just told her about the expression. She remembered, from forever ago, when Professor Kirke had used the same phrase in his library. That was very curious, considering that Huffin had said specifically that only Narnians say it.
Was it possible that Professor Kirke had been to Narnia before? The children's entrance here, the wardrobe in the spare room, was in his house. Could he have somehow found his way into Narnia before the children did? It did seem the only possible explanation for him using a statement that only Narnians were supposed to know. But, then again, what if the professor himself was a Narnian? What if he had come through the other side of the wardrobe, the Narnian side, and had become trapped in England? What if—
Anna's what ifs and Rosemane and Huffin's argument was cut off by a high, trumpet-like sound vibrating through the camp. Everyone's head snapped up. From the hilltop not too far from where Anna was standing, Peter took off running, yelling Susan's name. Anna made the connection in her mind quickly.
"Oh, no! Susan!" Anna yelled, taking off the same way Peter had.
She ran until she came to a creek. On the other side, she saw Lucy and Susan dangling from a tree and screaming Peter stood on the ground, with his sword drawn. Circling him were two enormous wolves. One of them, she recognized, was Maugrim.
"Peter!" Anna shouted. She pulled out her dagger in a quick flourish and started running. Then strong arms wrapped around her and held her back.
"Stop!" Rosemane hissed in her ear. "First lesson: don't run into someone else's fight."
"What?" Anna gasped, struggling in vain to break away.
At that moment, a swarm of Narnians rushed past Anna and across the river. One of the wolves cried out as Aslan pinned it down. Orieus charged at Maugrim with his sword drawn, but Aslan stopped him.
"No! Stay your weapons," the Lion commanded. "This is Peter's battle."
Maugrim circled Peter for a few seconds. Then, the wolf let out a loud growl as he pounced.
Anna screamed at the same moment as Susan and Lucy. She watched with watery eyes as Susan and Lucy jumped out of the tree and pushed Maugrim off of Peter, the wolf flopping limply on the ground. Peter killed it, Anna thought. He managed to stab it with his sword.
But what about Peter? From this angle, she couldn't tell if he was okay. She whispered over and over again, "Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead."
But soon, Peter sat up, looking bewildered, and pulled his sister's into a hug. Anna breathed a sigh of relief, and Rosemane relaxed her grip.
Aslan released the wolf he had been restraining. It whimpered as it took off running into the brush.
"After him!" Aslan commanded. When Oreius furrowed his brow at him, Aslan said, "He'll lead you to Edmund."
Oreius nodded, and the Narnians charged into the forest. Rosemane squeezed Anna's shoulder and went galloping after them. Anna ran across the river and threw herself at Peter. She hugged him tightly and dried her tears on his tunic. He hugged her back, and when she finally pulled away, she looked at all the Pevensies.
"I'm so glad you're all okay," she said. Lucy smiled and Susan took her hand, squeezing it.
"Peter," Aslan's deep voice broke in. "Clean your sword."
Peter wiped his sword clean of blood in the creek. Then, Aslan gestured for him to kneel. Peter did this, with his head bowed and his sword in his hands. Aslan put a large paw on Peter's shoulders.
"Rise, Sir Peter Wolfsbane," Aslan said. "Knight of Narnia."
Anna felt goosebumps break out over her body. At first, Peter smiled in disbelief. Then, as he stood and looked at Aslan, it was like a transformation came over. He set his shoulders back and raised his chin, and he appeared suddenly braver than he'd been before. An aura of nobility came over him, and Anna suddenly thought, He's a king. He's going to rule over Narnia.
As Peter 's sisters congratulated him, Anna remembered what Aslan said to Orieus. He'll lead you to Edmund. It almost seemed unbelievable. They'd come so far to get to this point, but they would finally have Edmund back in a few hours. Anna just hoped their luck would last.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter!