Chapter 12:

In the following days, Christopher and Susan continued to make good progress. It was slow, but they were consistent. As difficult as Susan found it to continue, her son never allowed her to wallow for long. They rested, they ate, they took care of themselves as best as they could. But they never stopped for long.

The river flowed forward. Which was exactly what they had to do.

On a particularly chill day, where Christopher actually found himself missing his old winter jacket made of wool that scratched him when he wore it, they stopped to see something quite odd. Which Christopher was becoming accustomed to.

"What is it now?" He asked with a sigh. The river widened into what could be described as a small lake. But what was odd was that amidst a bunch of bulrush in a swampy side of the lake, there appeared to be a cart of some kind. It was half submerged in the swamp, but behind it was a bunch of debris. As though the cart had crashed into the lake, like a car crash Christopher had once seen on a trip to London. Or a plane crash he had heard stories of from the war.

What was even stranger was that the part of the lake where the cart touched, the water was frozen solid. The air was colder than usual, but not nearly enough to freeze water.

As Christopher approached it, he saw that the cart didn't have wheels. It had long sleds. As though it had been made for travel on snow. And although the color was faded like many other things in Narnia, it was undeniably meant to be red with gold trim.

"Why does this look familiar?" Christopher asked as he rubbed the side of the cart. As damaged as it was, and as splintered as the wood looked, as he ran his hand along it, Christopher found it was extremely soft. As though it was newly polished and waxed. "There's something special about this cart…"

"It isn't a cart," Susan said, stepping forward with eyes wide in disbelief. She immediately looked up, hoping beyond hope to see someone who could have rescued them. "It's a sleigh."

Susan spent a great deal of time searching the nearby forest for the sleigh's owner. Christopher didn't want to believe her when she had said it belonged to Father Christmas.

"That's just a story for really little kids," he thought. But after all they had been through in Narnia, how could he possibly find this impossible. Stories and myths had to come from somewhere. Why not from another world.

Though Susan and Christopher weren't able to find the sleigh's owner, as they searched within, they found a large bag. As Susan lifted it up, it felt incredibly heavy. As though it were filled with hundreds of boxes and packages. But when she opened it up, she saw it was empty.

Except for one package.

One that she had been meant to see a long time ago. If things had gone differently on her family's first trip into Narnia together.

There was a note attached to the package that read simply: "It's never too late."

"Something intended for your uncle," Susan said, holding the package out to Christopher, "but that I think he would want you to have."

Susan passed it to her son, who paused for only a second before tearing the package open. Time was difficult to track in Narnia, so it may as well be Christmas morning for them.

Despite the small size of the present, when Christopher tore it open, two items appeared that both seemed to be larger than the box had been. There was a thin sword and a glove made of soft leather. Susan grabbed both and examined them. "It looks like a rapier. And a dueling glove."

Susan handed the small rapier to her son, and helped him place the glove on his right hand.

Christopher couldn't say for sure, but once the glove was on his hand, he felt confidence with the blade flow through him. And to Susan, it looked as though the rapier, which had been sized for a man twice Christopher's height, was now perfectly suited to him.

The glove gave him the skill to strike, and the sword changed to perfectly fit the user.

"I always said Edmund needed guidance. And support. These truly were made for him."

"What was Uncle Edmund like?" Christopher asked, stepping back and taking a few practice swings with the thin blade.

"You would have liked him." Susan said, happy to sit and rest as she watched her son. "Well, maybe not at first. A lot of us didn't care for Edmund at first. But he had a way of growing on you. And it helped that he himself grew quite a bit. He was so different as an adult. So reliable and strong. He really did take his childhood and grow into someone wonderful. If only I…"

"If only you what?" Christopher asked.

"Oh, nothing." Susan said and smiled. "What do you say we find something to eat? The river is taking us close to a lake soon. Why don't we try our hand at fishing?"

"I'd love to! Dad never took me fishing." Christopher sheathed the rapier, and grabbed his mother by the hand. Feeling the soft suede of the dueling glove against hers, for a moment she imagined it was her younger brother guiding her onwards.

Anything to not let herself start picturing Christopher's father. The last thing she needed was to travel to another world and still have him ruin her mood.

"Tools, not toys. The time to use them may be soon." Christopher repeated the words his mother had told him. It was advice she had been given when Father Christmas had gifted her with similar presents.

As they sat quietly by the water, catching small fish for supper, Susan thought of her bow and all of the shots she had fired with it. Each one hit its target perfectly. And her small ivory horn, who's sound always called a nearby friend. She very much wished to have them again. To blow that horn, and see her family running towards her.

These thoughts bred a sudden impatience in Susan's heart. What were they doing? Meandering the western wilds of Narnia? Slow marching their way across a continent, passing abandoned cities and decrepit monuments as they went? This was a land of magic and possibility! Surely she could think of something to help. To do something besides begrudgingly walk, cursing each step.

"Christopher…I have a crazy idea." Susan said, as they put away the makeshift fishing poles they had made out of sticks and twine from her frayed sweater.

After a quick meal of fish cooked by campfire, they spent their evening enacting Susan's plan. Though it made their hands sore and cold, after a few hours the sleigh was out of the water and onto dry land. The two clambered into the sleigh, after spending the better part of the evening struggling to free it from the frozen, swampy water of the lake.

As though the sleigh knew exactly what they needed, once clear, it rose slowly into the air. Even without reindeer to pull it, that old sleigh had plenty of magic left to bring them where they needed to go.

And as much as Susan wanted to go home, when she willed the sleigh to move, it took them east.

Back towards the Lord of the Coast.