#skanderkeynes

Mr Beaver pointed out toward the rising sun. "Now, Aslan's camp is near the Stone Table just across the frozen river."

Peter looked down at the small creatures. "River?"

"Is that safe?" Penny asked.

"Oh, the river's been frozen solid for a hundred years." Mrs Beaver tried to reassure the girl.

"It's so far!" Peter's shoulder slumped in disappointment.

Mrs Beaver shook her head. "It's the world, dear. Did you expect it to be small?"

Susan side-eyed her older brother. "Small-er"

IF PENNY HAD COUNTED CORRECTLY, the trek down the mountains and through the forest took roughly three and a half hours. In that time, she had shed her thick polar bear-esque fur, and even more strands of her hair had turned a bright copper orange. She felt almost feverish, her skin burning and blood boiling beneath the surface.

She was hot. So hot that when Susan placed her hands on the skin of her forearms to warm Penny up, she instead revelled in the heat emanating from the older girl despite the thick mounds of snow piled up all around them. None of them really understood how Penny was acting as a personal heater when they could hardly feel their toes hitting against the cap of their shoes.

"Are you feeling alright?" Peter had offered about an hour into their journey and again at two. "We can stop if you need a moment."

But Penny didn't want to stop, and she didn't need a moment. Truthfully, she had never felt more alive, more like herself, than being the only source of warmth in the middle of a blizzard.

The snow covering the frozen lake wasn't as thick as on the forest floor, but their shoes still left imprints. Penny trailed behind Lucy, not wanting the youngest of them to get lost in the silver haze surrounding them.

"Come on, humans! While we're still young." Mr. Beaver hurried them.

Penny sighed at the way the youngest of them dragged her legs. "Are you getting tired, Lucy?"

The girl shrugged, "Only a little."

Walking ahead of them, Peter slowed to a stop and knelt down to let Lucy clamber onto his back. "Hop on."

Lucy threw herself onto Peter's back, her small arms wrapping loosely around his neck. She let out a small gasp as she snuggled her head into Peter's neck, finally able to see more of the world around them.

Penny ran her hand over Lucy's back. "Is that better?"

"Hurry up! Come on!" Mr Beaver urged them.

Peter shook his head and hoisted Lucy further up as they began walking again. "If he tells us to hurry one more time, I'm gonna turn him into a big, fluffy hat," he threatened jokingly.

"He is getting a little bossy." Lucy agreed.

"No! Behind you! It's her!" Mrs Beaver warned them.

A shot of ice-cold ran up Penny's spine as she spun around to find a large sleigh quickly approaching.

Her eyes turned as big as saucers. "Peter..."

"Run!" Peter screamed.

The reins of whatever creature the Witch had pulling the sleigh jingled like bells, a chime just high-pitched enough for Penny to hear over the thumping of her heart. Penny found Susan's hand, and together they ran as fast as their tired legs would allow. Their hair blustered out behind them and the tips of their fingers turned a bloodless white with how tightly they clung to each other.

The Beavers led the way back into the forest, and the thin silver trunks that lined the edge of the lake were spread out enough to see and weave through with ease. Mr Beaver skidded to a stop on the tip of a rocky enclosure.

"Inside! Dive! Dive!" He practically screamed at them.

The children stumbled down the embankment like baby deer just out of the womb. Penny's arms came out to either side to steady herself before she ducked her head and threw herself into the left side of the small cave-like structure. Peter and Lucy slid in with Mr Beaver, who tucked himself as close to Penny's side as he could get.

Mrs Beaver hurried them in. "Quick! Quick, quick, quick!"

The sleigh bells jingled to an abrupt stop, the deafening silence of the forest enveloping them uneasily. They went quiet, and their limbs stiffened as footsteps approached overhead, a dusting of snow falling down, and the shadow of a person appeared in the sparkling snow in front of them. Penny's chest heaved in gulps of oxygen like it was water and she was drowning.

The shadow remained for a few moments before retreating slowly, the snow crunching beneath their boots fading until they were gone.

"Maybe she's gone." Lucy spoke up after a minute of fearful quiet.

Peter slipped his arm from around Lucy's shoulders. "I suppose I'll go look." He whispered.

Penny grabbed his arm. "You can't do that. I'll go," she decided.

"Absolutely not. I'm the eldest, I can take care of this." he argued.

"Peter, if I am the princess of this land, then I should be able to face the wickedness of my own mother." She left no space for argument.

Peter's jaw ticked as he ground his teeth together in frustration. "I'm not letting you go."

Penny's gaze turned defiant. "Fine. Then, we'll both go."

"No!" Mr Beaver interrupted with a harsh whisper. "The two of you are worth nothing to Narnia dead!"

Mrs Beaver reached out her short arm toward him. "Well, neither are you, Beaver."

With a small, sad smile, Mr Beaver took her paws into his. "Thanks sweetheart!"

Mr Beaver scrambled up the side of the snowy embankment and disappeared over the ridge of the rock. With bated breath, the others waited.

"What's that? What's..." Susan's whisper was so quiet that Penny could hardly hear it.

Peter shushed her gently and pulled Lucy closer to calm her quiet whines.

A flurry of footsteps raced across the top of the enclosure, and an unexpected blur of brown fur made Penny and Lucy shriek.

"Come out! Come out!" Mr Beaver exclaimed excitedly. "I hope you've all been good 'cause there's someone here to see ya!"

The children looked at each other curiously. Hesitantly, Penny followed Peter and Lucy out of the rocky cover and back out into the outskirts of the forest. Waiting for them was a white-bearded man standing in a burgundy coat, his wooden sleigh headed by eight reindeer sitting behind him.

Penny inhaled sharply. "Oh my..."

The man laughed at their fallen jaws and wide eyes.

Lucy untangled herself from her brother's grasp. "Merry Christmas, sir."

"It certainly is, Lucy, since you have arrived." Father Christmas smiled gleefully.

Susan shook her head in disbelief. "Look, I've put up with a lot since I got here, but this..."

"We thought you were the Witch." Peter cut his sister off.

Father Christmas looked down at his worn boots and slipped his leather gloves off. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry about that, but in my defence, I have been driving one of these longer than the Witch."

"I thought there was no Christmas in Narnia." Susan eyed the man curiously.

"Ever since the White Witch took over." Penny tagged on.

"No. Not for a long time." A sadness befell the man's face. "But the hope that you have brought, Your Majesties, is finally starting to weaken the Witch's power. Still, I dare say you could do with these." He heaved a large tapestried sack from the back of the sleigh, and it landed on the ground with a thud.

"Presents!" Lucy squealed and ran closer.

Father Christmas presented Lucy with a leather-covered bottle, "The juice of the fire-flower. One drop will cure any injury. And though I hope you never have to use it..." He handed her a small dagger.

"Thank you, sir, but I think I could be brave enough." Lucy sounded unsure in her words.

"I'm sure you could. But battles are ugly affairs." He gave Lucy a lingering smile before gently pushing her backwards. Next, he pulled out a bow and a quiver of red-feathered arrows. "Susan. Trust in this bow and it will not easily miss."

"What happened to 'battles are ugly affairs'?" Susan questioned.

He chuckled humorously, "Though you don't seem to have a problem making yourself heard," he presented an ivory horn with the head of a roaring lion. "Blow on this horn, and wherever you are, help will come."

"Thanks." Susan whispered sweetly.

Susan took her place back beside her siblings, and Penny stepped forward to meet Father Christmas' eye.

"Dearest Princess," he slid a dual pair of daggers into her hands, each with flowering vines engraved along the ivory hilt. "For when you must fly before the fall. Keep them close but only strike after the sun reaches its apex two moons from now."

Penny bowed her head. "Thank you, sir."

"You are most welcome, Princess, however that is not all I must give you." He placed a small leather pouch into her hand with a delicate touch. "Narnia has waited a long time for you to receive this."

Penny tugged the pouch open and tipped the contents onto her palm. The golden chain spooled into a circle, the tiny thimble charm sitting pretty on top in a way that reminded Penny of the sun.

"It's just a necklace." Penny protested.

"Perhaps, but have you not learned by now, dear Princess, that things in this land aren't always as simple as they first appear." His lips quirked upward. "Peter, would you mind?"

Peter's fingers brushed Penny's palm as he lifted the necklace out of it. He pinched either end of the chain between his thumb and forefinger and slowly lowered it over Penny's head. As the thimble charm settled in the space between her collarbones, Father Christmas's smile twitched a little higher, and Mrs Beaver gasped quietly, transfixed by the split-second rose-golden glow of the necklace.

"Now Penny, you must have an open mind for what is to come, and trust that everything will turn out as the stars foretold a near century ago."

"I will." She promised and stepped back in line so Peter could receive his gift.

"Peter." Father Christmas held out a silver shield with a red lion emblazoned on the front, accompanied by a matching sword. "The time to use these may be near at hand."

Peter unsheathed the sword from its protective leather scabbard. The blade glistened in the light, a scripture Penny couldn't read etched deep into the metal.

"Thank you, sir." Peter said earnestly.

"These are tools, not toys. Bear them well and wisely." He spoke with a seriousness Penny had only ever heard from her Uncle. "Now, I must be off. Winter is almost over, and things do pile up when you've been gone a hundred years. Long live Aslan!" He climbed back into his sleigh with a renewed burst of joy. "And Merry Christmas!"

The children returned his well-wishes as the reindeer trotted swiftly away and deeper into the forest. Mrs Beaver laughed gleefully as Lucy looked up at Susan.

"Told you he was real."

"He said winter was almost over." A look of urgency washed over Peter's face. "You know what that means."

Penny caught on quickly. "No more ice."

Penny stared down at the river with a sense of urgency she had never felt. The sheet of ice covering the rapids had broken into large chunks, which floated away choppily on the fast current, and Penny could see tiny trickles flowing down the frozen waterfall to their left.

"The ice is almost gone," she warned the others.

"We need to cross, now!" Peter insisted.

"Don't beavers make dams?" Lucy questioned.

"I'm not that fast, dear." Mr Beaver quipped back.

"Come on!" Peter yelled and took Lucy's hand in his own.

Lucy gasped at the force of Peter's tug, almost lifting off her feet as he pulled her along. Penny quickly followed suit, placing a hand on Lucy's shoulder to steady her.

"Wait! Will you just think about this for a minute?" Susan shouted at Peter.

"We don't have a minute." Peter snapped.

Susan's face fell, her exasperation replaced with dejection. "I'm just trying to be realistic."

Peter shook his head and scoffed. "No, you're trying to be smart. As usual."

The two oldest Pevensies glanced towards Penny, silently asking for her to take a side.

Penny crossed her arms and huffed, annoyed they could even find the time to fight when every second they spent squabbling was another chunk of ice separating from their path across the river. "Do I need to repeat what I said about not wanting to get involved in your tiffs? Right now, the most important thing is getting across that river. It may be the only way to find Edmund and get him back."

Susan stared at Peter's back as he turned and left her standing on the cliffside, sorrowful betrayal swirling deep in the pit of her stomach. A howl sounded from amongst the trees, and Penny swivelled around to find Susan peering into the woods, wide-eyed and afraid.

Penny held out her hand toward Susan. "Come on."

The girls helped each other down the slope, steadying one another on the cliffs' ridges. As the water splashed against the sides of the bank, droplets landed on the bare skin of their ankles where their socks had rolled down between the running, and even Penny was starting to feel the cold settle deep beneath her bones.

The sheet of ice crackled louder than anything Penny had ever heard before. Peter took a hesitant step , his foot lowering onto the unstable ice, and a spurt of water shot up from underneath as it dipped beneath his weight. Penny grabbed his arm and tugged him back onto the steady rock.

"Wait. Maybe I should go first." Mr Beaver suggested.

"Maybe you should." Peter slowly agreed.

"Good idea." Penny added.

Mr Beaver carefully tapped his webbed feet along the surface of the ice, his tiny body hardly weighing it down at all. He turned to slap his tail a little harder, trying to find the strongest passage that could hold the weight of the four humans he knew were destined to save Narnia.

"You've been sneaking second helpings, haven't you?" Mrs Beaver accused.

Mr Beaver paused and let out a nervous chuckle. "Well, you never know which meal's gonna be your last. Especially with your cooking."

Mr Beaver waved his hand for the children to follow. Peter and Lucy stepped on first, still joined by Peter's tight grip; he refused to let go of her, even if it meant falling through the ice and drowning as his lungs screamed for air. The ice immediately splintered beneath their combined weight, and Penny drew in a sharp breath as her foot sank unintentionally into the freezing water.

"If Mum knew what we were doing..." Susan's voice shook horribly.

Peter spun around, too focused on Lucy's safety to deal with Susan's complaints. "Mum's not here."

Icicles fell from the waterfall looming menacingly above them, and Lucy let out a cry as the White Witch's wolves ran over the top of it and toward the other side of the river.

"Run!" Penny screamed.

The sharp shards fell faster, slicing through the thinning ice at the waterfall's base, causing geysers of icy water to erupt and spray them.

"Hurry!" Susan yelled.

The wolves snarled and barked as they descended upon the river and leapt onto the riverbank. Turning back, Penny saw more wolves closing in. They were surrounded.

Mr Beaver hissed and spread his claws in an attempt to threaten, but the wolf pounced before he could swipe, taking his neck into his jaw and flattening him to the ground.

Mrs Beaver gasped. "No!"

"Peter!" Lucy cried, her voice full of fear.

There was a sharp ring of metal leaving the sheath as Peter drew his sword. He held it out in front of him, both hands gripping the handle, his stance similar to that of the soldiers in the posters littering the train station. The way his father had taught him how to hold a gun before being shipped off to fight in the war against a tyrannical dictator.

"Put that down, boy." Maugrim growled low. "Someone could get hurt."

Mr Beaver struggled against the wolves' firm grip. "Don't worry about me! Run him through!" He shouted.

Peter's hands shook violently, the metal blade wobbling under his grip. Penny reached out and cupped her hand beneath his elbow, the sword steadying just as he did.

"Leave now while you can, and your brother goes with you." Maugrim bargained.

"Stop, Peter! Maybe we should listen to him!" Susan pleaded over the loud cracking of the ice.

Maugrim chuckled darkly. "Smart girl."

"No!" Penny cried, meeting Peter's eye. "He doesn't mean a word he says. He works for the Witch."

Maugrim smirked. "Looks like you got more than your mother's looks, Princess."

"Don't listen to him!" Mr Beaver pleaded. "Kill him! Kill him now!"

"Oh, come on. This isn't your war." Maugrim said. "You've returned our precious Princess, and for that she is eternally grateful. All my Queen wants is for you to take your family and go."

He made it sound so easy.

"Look, just because some man in a red coat hands you a sword, it doesn't make you a hero!" Susan shrieked, her blue eyes filled with unshed tears. She just wanted to go home. "Just drop it!"

Peter spared her a glance. His fingers twitched against the handle, and his mind whirred with indecision.

"No, Peter! Narnia needs ya!" Mr Beaver kept yelling. "Gut him while you still have a chance!"

Peter held his head higher, defiant against the wolf. "I wouldn't leave Narnia without Penny."

"Unfortunately she belongs here, with us and our Queen." Maugrim tried to reason.

Penny swallowed around the lump in her throat as the ice gently rumbled beneath her feet. "I think you'll find I belong wherever I please."

Maugrim lowered his head, as if bowing to her. "Dear Princess, I believe your attitude will change once you meet your mother. She's missed you dearly," his sharp teeth spread into a wicked grin.

Penny raised her brow. "I heard she's been waiting to get rid of me since the moment I was born."

A low growl escaped Maugrim. "Lies and vicious rumours perpetuated by those against my Queen's long reign." His lips twisted into a snarl, and his sharp glare landed back on Peter. "Now, what's it gonna be, Son of Adam? I won't wait forever. And neither will the river."

The children followed the wolf's gaze upwards to the cracking facade of the waterfall. Gallons of freezing water spilt down onto them, and all Penny could do was stare up in horror as more of the ice ruptured and collapsed into fragments at the base.

"Peter!" Lucy screamed.

Lucy's scream shook Penny loose from her frozen stare, "Stab the ice!" She yelled at Peter. When he didn't react, she smacked him on the shoulder to get him to move. "Now! Stab the ice!"

Peter jolted. He angled the tip of the sword down toward the ice and raised it into the air. "Hold onto me!" He shouted to the girls before plunging the blade into the crevasse at their feet.

The waterfall burst like a champagne cork, the ice exploding and frigid water spraying everywhere. The waves crashed around them, water drenching them from all sides as the shard they were perched on dipped below the surface and bobbed back up, rushing down the river rapids unpredictably.

Penny sucked in a ragged breath of air, her lungs burning as if they had been set on fire. Every part of her body was numb from the tips of her fingers to her sopping wet, sock-covered toes. She felt weak, like the flame of a candle being snuffed out, wisps of smoke twisting through the air and dissipating quickly. The edges of her vision blurred, and black spots danced across her eyelids as she slumped onto the shield attached to Peter's back, her white-knuckled grip on Lucy loosening.

Mr and Mrs Beaver latched onto the ice shard, kicking their flippers as fast and hard as they could to propel it toward the shore. Once close enough, Peter and Susan lifted themselves off their stomachs and sloshed through the shallow water and onto the snowy bank ahead of them, their shoes and coats weighing them down.

With her arms folded across her body to keep warm, Susan spun around, expecting to find three people behind her; instead, she found one—Peter, holding up Lucy's short, brown fur coat and dripping thick droplets onto the ground. They stared at one another, full-bodied panic taking over them as they frantically searched for their little sister.

"What have you done?" Susan yelled, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Lucy! Lucy!"

"Has anyone seen my coat?" Lucy's quiet voice carried over the whooshing wind.

Relief washed over Susan and Peter as she approached from further up the bank. She tugged her forest green cardigan back over her shoulders, only for Peter to drape the fur over her and rub his hands up and down her arms to generate even the slightest hint of heat.

"Don't you worry, dear. Your brother's got you well looked after." Mr Beaver assured her.

Lucy looked around expectantly. "Where's Penny?"

Peter's eyes searched along the other side of the running river. "Pen!" He yelled as loud as he could through his urgent panting.

"Penny!" Susan screamed the girl's name across the river.

"Over here!" Mr Beaver's voice cut off Peter's next yell.

A few feet away, Mr Beaver stood with his teeth tugging at Penny's coat. The upper half of her body was slumped over a rock uncomfortably, her legs still in the water. With a speed he hadn't known he possessed, Peter was by Mr Beaver's side and dragging Penny's frighteningly still body out of the water. He laid her head down gently, her blonde and ginger hair spreading out like a halo or a lion's mane.

Susan gulped. "Is she...?"

Peter watched Penny carefully for signs of life, the slight flutter of her eyelashes and flare of her nostrils. The gentle rise and fall of her chest and the way her faint pulse seemed to stutter when his palm brushed against the column of her throat.

"She's breathing," he announced with a sigh. "Pen? Penny?"

His hand travelled up to her face. His fingers curved beneath her ear and twisted in her hair while his thumb swiped along her cheek, just below her eye. Slowly, he felt the warmth returning to her body, the blue-ish tinge to her lips fading, and her cheeks flushing a rosy pink under his scrutinising stare.

"Pen, wake up." He whispered for only her to hear.

Air filled Penny's lungs, the feeling of fire finally extinguished and replaced by the cold air. Her heavy eyelids lifted, a flicker of gold circling the centre of her irises before fading back to deep ocean blue. Penny turned her face into Peter's palm and slowly began lifting herself up. His hand dropped from her face and wound around her back to help pull her to her feet.

Susan shot forward and wrapped Penny in her arms, almost toppling the girl right back over. "Are you alright?"

"I-I think so?" Penny responded, confused by the younger girl's sudden display of affection.

Susan didn't say anything more and instead wrapped Penny's coat even tighter around her, fussing in a way Penny could only imagine a mother would.

"I don't think you'll be needing those coats anymore." Mrs Beaver chimed.

Lucy gasped in delight and tugged Susan by the hand further into the wood. Penny peered over the beavers' heads to see a group of crystallised cherry trees blossoming amongst the barren birch. The snow still covered the forest floor, but far in the distance, patches of green poked through the melting snow.

Mr Beaver took his wife's paw into his own and spared a glance at Penny and Peter. "Come on. I have a feeling our Princess will feel better once we get walking."

"I'll wait with you if you need a moment." Peter offered, chivalrously.

"I'll be fine," Penny refused. "Besides, the sooner we get to Aslan's camp, the sooner we can all rest, right?"

Peter nodded, a small smile spreading across his face. "Right."

Together, they followed the imprints of the Beaver's paws and Lucy and Susan's soft conversation. As their shoulders brushed, Penny's hand found Peter's among the fur still covering their wrists, and he intertwined their fingers in a way that almost felt like forever.

Lucy stared at the door in front of her, confused, as Penny slipped her warm hand out of hers. Penny took a breath, not quite believing she was about to let somebody into her room, her safe space, so willingly to find out more about a magical land that logic clearly dictated couldn't possibly exist. She twisted the doorknob, and the hinges squeaked quietly as the door swung open.

Lucy's eyes grew as wide as an owl's, (a creature Penny thought suited Lucy quite well) and took a small step inside. A giggle escaped Lucy's lips as she looked up at the ceiling to see it painted to match the night sky, stars and constellations a dull silver against the midnight blue background. Paper-mache planets hung from strings attached to the two wooden beams running through the centre of the ceiling.

"Wow," Lucy whispered to herself.

The walls were covered in colour: blues, greens, purples, reds. Everywhere Lucy looked, there was something new. Along the wall to her left was a large tree, its branches twisted into each other with red leaves falling and collecting on the ground. The tree then merged into a new painting of red and yellow tents surrounded by a field and small blurred humanoid figures that appeared to have four legs.

The wall opposite held a different collection of scenes, all seemingly inspired by the end of winter and the coming of spring. Giant flowers with frosted edges and large snow-dusted pines took up the majority, with feminine forms made up of petal-like blobs in various ballet positions dancing between them.

Penny leaned awkwardly against her bedpost while Lucy continued to study her walls with great fascination. She cleared her throat, finding her voice again. "I paint the scenes from my dreams."

Lucy trailed her fingers along Penny's walls, tracing the coastline below the large castle that took up an entire wall all on its own. "Dreams?"

"I've been having them for as long as I can remember. The land is always the same, always familiar, but I've never been anywhere like it in England." Penny explained, noticing Lucy's fixation on the snowy lamppost. "Lucy?"

"This is where I was. This is where I met Mr Tumnus!" Lucy cried in joy. She rushed over to Penny and threw her arms around her waist. Penny looked down to see Lucy's toothy grin splitting across her face. "This is Narnia!"

There was that word again—Narnia.

"But, Lucy," Penny began. "How can that be? I've never been there, and I can't dream of a place that I've never been."

"I don't know. Maybe you have been there before. Before you were brought here.

"I was found in Combe, Lucy." Penny sighed, "And I think my Uncle Diggory would have told me if I was born in a magical fantasy land instead of on Earth."

"Maybe he doesn't know," Lucy exclaimed.

"No." Penny shook her head. "No, there's no way this is true. It isn't even possible."

"So that means it can't be true?" Lucy asked, and when Penny didn't answer, she continued. "Mummy always says that just because something isn't possible, it doesn't mean it's im-possible. It just means it hasn't happened yet." With one last look around the room, Lucy walked back into the hallway. "You, Peter, Susan and Edmund may not believe me about Narnia, but that doesn't mean it isn't real. It just means you haven't been there yet." And with nothing more to say, the little girl skipped down the hallway and back to the bedroom she was sharing with her sister.

Penny slowly lowered herself down onto the edge of her bed, eyes locked on the lamppost painted onto her wall. Just because she didn't believe it didn't mean it wasn't real.

FOR ONCE, PENNY HAD ACTUALLY FOUND HERSELF HAVING A DREAMLESS SLEEP. There was no forest leading to the castle by the cliffside, nor were there fantastical creatures nonsensically filling her head. It was void. Blank. Nothing.

A beam of light crossed Penny's face, and she felt little hands pulling on her wrist which had instinctively flown to protect her eyes from the unwelcome intrusion.

"Penny! Penny, wake up!" Lucy yelled.

Penny opened her eyes to find little Lucy standing over her, still yanking on her arm. "What is it, Lucy?"

"Come on!" Lucy yelled again before running back out of her room.

Penny ran a hand through her hair, pushing the messy strands from her face. She shrugged on her dressing gown and peeked her head out of her open door to see Lucy rushing from her and Susan's room and into another. Lucy switched on the light, and a dim yellowish hue filled the room as she jumped onto the bed furthest from the door.

"Peter, Peter, wake up! Peter, wake up!" Lucy screeched into his ear gleefully. "It's there! It's really there!"

Peter shushed Lucy and turned onto his back to look up at her. "Lucy, what are you talking about?"

"Narnia!" Lucy bounced out of excitement. "It's all in the wardrobe, like I told you!"

Penny rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stifled a yawn with her hand as she stepped through the doorway. Edmund slipped past her into the room, and Susan sped inside to talk with her sister.

"You've just been dreaming, Lucy." Susan glanced back to Penny apologetically. "I'm so sorry that she woke you."

Penny blinked sleepily. "It's fine, Susan."

"But I haven't!" Lucy loudly insisted. "I saw Mr Tumnus again! And this time Edmund went too."

The three older kids looked towards the young boy, whose face paled at the newfound attention.

"You... You saw the faun?" Peter asked.

Penny watched Edmund's face closely, the quick dart of his eyes from Lucy to the wall and back again as he slowly began to shake his head no.

Lucy stood from the bed. "Well, he didn't actually go there with me. He..." Lucy turned around to face Edmund. "What were you doing, Edmund?"

Penny's breath hitched in her throat, waiting for the boy to say something. She had been thinking about it since her conversation with Lucy earlier. What if Narnia was real?

Edmund exhaled loudly. "I was just playing along." He looked toward his brother. "I'm sorry, Peter. I shouldn't have encouraged her, but you know what little children are like these days. They just don't know when to stop pretending."

Penny's mouth twisted into a scowl as Lucy's face dropped and water filled her eyes. A sob ripped its way out of her throat, and she ran out of the room in a flood of tears. Susan sighed in annoyance at Edmund's rudeness, and Peter quickly grabbed his dressing gown to chase after them.

"Lucy!" Penny shouted after her, following closely behind her.

Penny heard a soft thud and her Uncle's familiar 'oomph' just as she rounded the corner. Lucy glanced upwards at the white-haired man, and for a second, he almost looked like her grandfather. Peter and Susan nearly ran into Penny's back, their eyes almost doubling in size at the sight of Lucy with her arms thrown around the professor's (whom they were explicitly told to never disturb's) waist.

"You children are one shenanigan shy of sleepin' in the stable!" Mrs Macready whisper-yelled at them. She noticed the professor beside her and straightened her back. "Professor. I'm sorry. I told them you were not to be disturbed."

"It's all right, Mrs Macready. I'm sure there's an explanation." Diggory looked down at the little girl still attached to his waist. "But first of all, I think this one is in need of a little hot chocolate. Penny, would you take her?"

"Certainly, Uncle." Penny reached her hand towards Lucy's. "Come on, I'll show you where all the good biscuits are." At this, Lucy finally smiled, and she reached up to grab Penny's hand.

Once their mugs were empty and Lucy's eyes were dabbed dry (and far too many biscuits were consumed for such an early hour), Penny walked Lucy back to her bedroom. Susan and Peter were nowhere to be seen, and Penny had a suspicion that her uncle had taken them to his office for a talking to. If there was one thing the professor hated, it was seeing a little girl cry.

Penny sat on the edge of Lucy's bed, waiting for her to get under the covers and snuggle up against the pillows. "Are you comfortable?"

Lucy nodded and looked towards the open door. "Is your uncle mad? Is that why he's taking so long to speak with Peter and Susan?"

"Mad with you?" Penny shook her head. "No. Though he may be a little cross with them once he finds out they've been stifling your imagination." Her uncle, though a cerebral man, always liked when Penny would make elaborate stories up between her teddy bears or would write short stories for him to read on late nights when he needed a break from his long nights research. And Penny often caught him staring wistfully at the walls of her room as if he was remembering something from long ago. "He loves a good fantasy novel."

"Are those your favourite too?" Lucy asked.

"I prefer a romance over dragons and sword fights." Penny answered.

Lucy pulled the covers up past her nose, her words muffled behind it. "Would you read me one?"

Penny smiled and opened up one side of her dressing gown, pulling out her copy of Invisible String. "I keep this in here for nights I can't sleep, and I want to read by the fireplace instead of in my room."

Penny scooched herself up towards the pillows and kicked off her slippers before throwing her legs onto the bed. Lucy rested her cheek against Penny's arm, her eyes already drooping closed, but she tried to fight it so she could hear at least part of the story.

"This isn't the beginning, by the way, I'm already halfway through." Penny murmured. "Lilibet read Jameson's love letters every night. Twice all the way through, tracing her fingers along the messy ink-stained pages and the scrawling handwriting she had taught herself to read. 'For when the sun sets, and the moon rises, I find myself plagued with the thoughts of you'—he had written so lovingly and with great care. He wanted to make sure that she knew how he spent his nights a tortured poet. How unfairly she infiltrated his every thought, so much so that he couldn't sleep without the ribbon she had sent wrapped around his wrist and entangled between his fingers, hoping to seal back closed the wound she had left in him. The wound she shared so deeply it was as if the dagger was still inside her chest, piercing her heart with the skin closing around it but never over. 'A double-edged sword perhaps'—Lilibet wondered in her letters back to him—'Never to be healed or removed unless we find each other again in the fields of—"

"I think she's asleep." The voice startled Penny from her reading, and she looked down to see Lucy fully slumped against her shoulder. Peter stepped around the bed and slowly pulled Lucy backwards off of Penny's shoulder and down onto the pillows.

Penny slid off the bed, letting Peter tuck Lucy in better as she nuzzled deeper into the pillows. Susan sloped into the room, looking even more tired than before. Her feet dragged behind her, and she rubbed her bleary eyes lethargically.

"Oh, Penny, I didn't expect you to be in here." Susan whispered.

"I was just reading Lucy a story." Penny explained. "I think it helped take her mind off what happened with Edmund."

Susan glanced at Lucy's sleeping form. "As long as she's happier now."

Penny took that as her cue to leave, and with one last smile to the siblings, she quickly took her leave. Peter followed closely behind, placing a kiss on Lucy's forehead and exchanging brief goodnights with Susan. He shut the door as gently as he could and spotted Penny still walking down the hall.

"Penny." He whispered her name loud enough so she would hear it. She stopped and turned around, waiting for him to catch up to her. "We really are sorry for her waking you," he continued Susan's apology from earlier.

Penny shrugged and shook her head. "It's okay, really. I suppose this was to be expected with city kids."

The corner of Peter's lip twitched upwards. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"The city is always busy. You have cars and buses on the streets at every hour of the day. Out here, it's calmer. There's not much to do other than terrorise the wildlife and wake up the sleeping townsfolk." Penny explained.

"Or make up entire worlds in your head?" Peter returned jokingly.

"Hey, I did that a lot as a kid." Penny defended. "But would it really be that bad if Lucy's fantasy land was real? A land where it's always winter. That would mean it would be Christmas the whole year round."

Peter chuckled, "That does sound pretty fun."

Penny giggled and slowed to a stop as they reached the door to her room. "This is me. Thank you for walking me."

With her head leaning tiredly against the door, Peter couldn't help but notice how the moonlight shining from the window behind Penny cast a silver glow around her blonde hair. A piece fell loose and slid across her cheek, stopping at her nose. The tips of Peter's fingers tingled, humming with a quiet want, and he wanted nothing more than to reach up and tuck the strand of hair back behind her ear.

It felt strange, Peter thought. The tugging sensation inside of him, like an invisible string was tied somewhere inside of him, pulling him towards her despite his feet being nailed to the floor. He couldn't make sense of it for he had seen many pretty girls in his sixteen years; he had exchanged soft smiles and winked his eye at one or two, but never had he met a girl as beguiling as her.

Peter cleared his throat softly and took a small step backwards. "You're welcome."

Penny twisted the doorknob and slipped inside her room, careful not to reveal too much of it to him. She didn't feel like answering questions about the murals on her walls at such a late hour. "Goodnight, Peter."

"Goodnight, Penny." He said, and on the way back to his room, Peter tried his best to ignore the fluttering feelings rising from his stomach to his chest.

AFTER LAST NIGHT'S SHENANIGANS, early morning lessons were the last thing Penny wanted. Nevertheless, at no later than eight-thirty, Penny found herself on the leather sofa in her uncle's study, waiting for him to finish brewing his tea and join her.

The door pushed open, "Good morning, Pen."

"Good morning, Uncle." Penny played with the edge of her skirt, not knowing quite what to say. "I'm sorry about last night's antics," she finally decided on.

"They seem to have upset the delicate internal balance of our housekeeper." Diggory commented in regards to the Pevensies.

Penny rolled her eyes at his words. "I did try and warn you she wouldn't be pleased with having more children here."

Diggory placed his cup of tea on the coffee table and took his place on the sofa opposite Penny. "Mrs Macready understands the sacrifices that must be made for war. Even if that means opening up our home for a while."

Penny sighed. "It's Lucy, you see. She thinks she's found a magical land in the upstairs wardrobe. A land that looks like a forest and is winter all year round. The entire debacle has really upset her siblings."

"I know, the older two told me last night." Diggory settled his aching back against the firm leather chair and raised an eyebrow in Penny's direction. "What do you think about it?"

"I think that she is either raving mad or lying through her teeth." Penny put it bluntly. "But she doesn't strike me as a lunatic nor a liar, so I really don't know what I think."

"So you don't believe she has?" Diggory posed.

"I believe that Lucy believes. That's good enough for me." Penny caught a flash of curiosity in her Uncle's eye. "Do you believe her, Uncle Diggory?"

Diggory lifted the teacup to his lips and took a long sip as he thought over his answer. "Well, if she's not mad and she's not lying, then logically, we must assume she's telling the truth."

Penny thought back on what Lucy said to her yesterday, "You may be correct, Uncle, but logic is based on and dictated by evidence. Currently, there is no evidence either way, only Lucy's word against Edmund's."

"So, who are you more inclined to trust?" Diggory asked.

"Currently," Penny stopped to think. The growing smirk on Edmund's face when he told them he was just playing along and Lucy's adamance over Narnia's existence. "I believe neither. I don't know them well enough to judge their characters, but I do believe that Edmund can be cruel to his siblings, especially his younger sister."

Diggory placed his teacup back on its saucer. "So, perhaps therein lies your answer. One is a little boy acting out, and the other is a little girl playing make-believe. Now, are you ready to begin?"

Penny's lessons were cut shorter than usual on account of her barely being able to keep her eyes open during the professor's very fascinating lecture on physics. Hoping the fresh air would wake her up, Penny made her way to the kitchen door and out onto the covered patio. She inhaled deeply; there was a smell of fresh basil growing nearby, and Penny could almost taste Mrs Macready's famous basil loaf that she baked every summer (she calls it famous because it won at the village fair three years ago).

Susan, who was on her way to find one of the housemaids, turned the corner to see Penny standing at the edge of the herb garden. Relieved, she called out her name.

"Susan, hello." Penny greeted the brunette with a warm smile. "What are you doing out in the gardens?"

"We were thinking of spending the day outside. It might be good for Lucy and Edmund to get some fresh air. Clear their heads a little." Susan explained.

Penny motioned to the shed at the end of the vegetable patch. "I believe there's a few games in there. They might need the cobwebs dusting off them, but there should be a croquet and a cricket set, along with a few old balls and a ring toss."

Susan smiled gratefully. "Cricket would be nice. I think Peter misses playing it with his school friends, and I know Ed enjoys it, too. Would you like to join us?"

"I would, but first I need to organise some of the books in the library for Mrs Macready. It's my punishment for the baking lesson I decided to give myself at two in the morning." Penny stared off into the distance as she thought back on Mrs Macready's angry glare. Susan laughed at the girl's dramatics. "There was so much flour everywhere I thought I'd never clean it all up."

Susan laughed even harder, and Penny couldn't help but join her. "You're really funny, you know. Much funnier than most of the girls I know, anyway. All my dormmates talk about are boys and makeup and make fun of me for how many books I read." Susan's smile slowly faded as she remembered the teasing she would return to once the war was over.

Penny noticed the falter in Susan's smile. "I'm sure you read a reasonable amount, and the girls at your school will eventually come to realise that you won't get very far without them." Penny caught sight of Ivy inside the kitchen, and the maid motioned for her to come back inside. "I'm sorry to cut our chat short, Susan, but my punishment awaits me."

"I'll see you later, though?" Susan asked, a hopeful lilt to her voice as she silently wished to spend more time with the girl.

Penny looked back over her shoulder to meet Susan's eyes. "Definitely."

WITH THE SUN SHINING DOWN ON THE SPRAWLING GRASSY LAWN, little Lucy sat reading beneath the large oak tree watching her siblings play cricket. Peter was the bowler, Edmund was the batter, and Susan took the position of the wicketkeeper.

"Peter winds up, poised to take yet another wicket!" Peter announced like the sports commentators his dad had often listened to on the radio.

He launched the ball at Ed, who stared off at the manor with a strange expression neither Peter nor Susan could place.

"Ow!" Ed scowled and rubbed over the spot where the heavy ball had hit his thigh.

"Whoops!" Peter laughed at his brother's dramatics."Wake up, Dolly Daydream." He teased, catching the ball Susan had thrown back.

"Why can't we play hide and seek again?" Edmund complained.

"I thought you said it was a kid's game." Peter rolled his eyes, reminding Edmund of what he had said yesterday afternoon.

"Besides, we could all use the fresh air." Susan reasoned, but to Edmund, she sounded too much like their Mum.

"It's not like there isn't air inside," he sassed back at her.

Susan covered her hurt and disappointment at Edmund's comment well. "I also invited Penny to join us," she added quickly.

"Why would you do that?" Edmund frowned. He didn't like the professor's niece very much. He thought she was too odd.

"Maybe because she lives here," Peter replied like it was obvious.

"Or maybe it's because you fancy her." Ed shot back.

Peter faced away from his brother and sister, hoping the cool breeze would stop the blush rising from his neck to his cheeks. In all honesty, Peter wasn't sure what he felt for Penny; other than that, whenever he thought of her, a bloom of warmth settled inside his chest. He turned back, trying to act nonchalant. "Whatever, Ed. Are you ready?"

Edmund got into position and, with an annoyed expression, threw back. "Are you?"

Peter shook his head before running back towards the post. He wound his arm back and hurled the ball towards Ed. The ball bounced once on the ground before the bat cracked against it, sending it flying into the library's window.

Penny screamed as the window behind her broke, a ball smashing through the glass and bouncing off the wall to hit the suit of armour standing on the opposite side of the room to her. Her heart lurched, and she quickly climbed down the stepladder to venture closer to where the glass fragments lay. A flurry of footsteps raced into the room, but Penny paid them no mind, staring wide-eyed at the broken window and the knight's detached head.

"Well done, Ed," Peter muttered sarcastically.

"You bowled it!" Edmund accused.

Susan ignored her brother's arguing and placed a gentle hand on Penny's shoulder. "Are you alright, Penny?"

Penny brought a hand up to her chest. "Is it normal to feel like your heart is lodged in your throat?"

Peter took a small step closer to the girl, sharing a concerned look with Susan. "We're sorry if we frightened you."

"I don't think frightened quite covers it," Penny replied breathlessly, still trying to swallow her pounding heart back down into her chest.

"What on earth is goin' on?" Mrs Macready yelled, already stomping up the stairs.

"The Macready!" Susan cried in fear.

Peter motioned towards the open door, "Come on!"

Penny watched as the Pevensies ran out of the room, leaving her behind in the midst of the chaos they had created. Not wanting to get yet another punishment from Mrs Macready, Penny huffed and quickly ran in the opposite direction. She followed the winding hallways back to her bedroom, acutely aware of the other children's quiet exclamations of fear and their light footsteps as they tried to get around the manor to find a place to hide.

But as soon as she reached her room, all of the noise stopped.

With the knot settled high in her chest growing, Penny slowly pulled open her door and stepped out into the corridor. It was as cold as ice despite the warm patch of sun shining through the window to her left, and Penny regretted leaving her thin bolero cardigan inside the library when she had run.

Avoiding the main staircase, Penny made her way to the fourth floor through the forgotten hallways and hidden stairways of Kirke Manor, guided by the icy trail and melodic whispers that sounded like a language long lost, but still so, so familiar. Penny could almost understand the words.

Follow me. Daughter of summer aire. Closer. Princess. Witch. Almost there.

Penny pushed open the heavy wooden door and stared at the impressive wardrobe standing before her. The knot in her chest tightened, but she couldn't turn back. The invisible string tied around her waist tugged her forward and toward the wardrobe door that had been left ajar. As soon as Penny's fingers brushed the edge of the wood, the whispers ceased, and silence fell upon the room.

"Hello?" Penny called quietly. "Lucy? Susan?"

She rolled her bottom lip between her two front teeth and quickly pulled the wardrobe door wide open. Her brow furrowed, and she stuck her head further inside only to hear the distant squeal of a little girl.

"Impossible," she whispered to herself.

Steeling herself, Penny took one step forward, the heels of her Mary Janes clacking against the wooden base. There was another squeal, and then a young boy exclaimed, 'Ouch!'

Lucy and Edmund, Penny realised as she shuffled further in.

"But we can't go hiking in the snow dressed like this!" Penny heard Susan say.

A cold gust of air hit Penny's bare arms, and the soft fur coats surrounding her changed into large, sweeping bristles which prodded into her flesh and scratched along the surface.

"We could use these coats." Peter suggested.

Penny had no time to react as Peter's hand pushed through the branches and his fingers wrapped around her wrist. A loud shriek ripped its way from Penny's lips as the world spun around her in white and green motion-blur, the snow, like powdered sugar, cushioning the blow as she and Peter landed with a thud on the frozen ground. Penny's hands squeezed Peter's shoulders, his weight not entirely on her as his forearms landed beside her head.

Eyes wide, Penny stared at the ashy blue sky above her. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, and quick pants escaped her parted lips, puffs of smoke dissipating into the air around them.

Lucy let out a delighted squeal. "Penny!"

Penny's eyes finally snapped away from her surroundings and locked onto Peter's own. The colour reminded her of waves crashing against the ocean rocks.

"Are you alright?" Susan exclaimed.

Susan's voice broke Peter's trance, and he quickly pushed himself up and out of the snow. He took Penny's right arm whilst Susan took her left, and together they lifted the girl off the ground.

Penny knocked some of the snow from the back of her hair. "This is..."

"Impossible?" Lucy finished.

"Something along those lines, yes." Penny laughed. "Where are we?"

Lucy jumped up and down, the snow flicking up and sticking to her tights. "We're in Narnia, Penny! Isn't it amazing?"

Penny wanted to agree, but she couldn't quite get the words out.

"It's just like your dreams, isn't it?" Lucy continued, staring up at Penny with the same owlish eyes as yesterday.

"Dreams?" Peter repeated.

Susan frowned a little. "You know this place, Penny?"

"No. I've never been here before in my life," she replied, and yet she felt deep in her bones that it couldn't be true.

"But you have in your dreams!" Lucy took Penny's hand into her own, tangling their fingers to drag her further along the path until the glowing tip of the lamppost came into view. "See? It's just like the paintings on your wall."

Penny let out a shaky breath. "How could that be possible?"

Lucy tilted her head curiously. "I don't know," she shrugged.

Feeling a chill up his spine, Peter turned away from the strange scene in front of him and disappeared back into the trees. He returned to what he originally wanted to do before he had pulled Penny through the doorway and hauled an armful of fur coats out of the wardrobe.

"Peter, those don't belong to us." Susan argued.

"Well, I don't think the professor would mind us using them. Anyway, if you think about it logically, we're not even taking them out of the wardrobe."

Peter pushed an oversized black and grey coat into Edmund's chest.

"But that's a girl's coat!" Edmund protested.

"I know," Peter smirked, then handed Penny a thick white fur. "Here."

Penny waved him off. "No, I'm fine. I'm not even cold."

Susan laid a hesitant hand on Penny's upper arm. She gasped, "Penny, you're freezing. Peter."

Peter immediately wrapped the large fur coat around Penny's shoulders, tugging it over her arms whilst she continued to stare at the lamppost. Peter couldn't help but wonder what Lucy meant about Penny's dreams. If she had dreamed of it, did that mean she was lying about never having discovered this place before?

"Susan, it's fine." Penny insisted, fed up with the girls' fussing.

The soft glow of the pale winter sun illuminated their way through the dense forest. The tall trees loomed over them, their branches heavy with thick clumps of snow that appeared to have been there for centuries. Just beyond the trees stood Penny's lamppost, its warm light flickering like a beacon guiding them deeper in.

Lucy led them down the same winding path Mr. Tumnus had taken her, the soft crunch of snow beneath their boots filling the silence. Once they reached a gentle slope, Peter ran ahead, wiping out and sliding down the rest of the hill with joyous laughter echoing off the cliff face surrounding them.

Susan and Penny couldn't contain their laughter at his ridiculous antics, taking hold of each other's arms as they carefully trudged their way down to the bottom. However, Susan slipped on a patch of icy rock, a short scream escaping her lips as she tumbled to the ground, pulling Penny down with her. The girls stared up at the pale grey sky, smiles splitting across their faces.

"Snow angels!" Penny exclaimed, her arms and legs flapping in the cold, crisp snow.

Susan soon joined in, and together they lay there, creating their angels while their laughter rang out, bright and clear as a bell amidst the quiet solitude of the land around them.

But soon enough, the chill began to settle in, and with delight still sparkling in their eyes, Lucy announced they were almost there.

"... we'll have lots and lots of lovely food, and we'll have lots and lots of..." Lucy froze, the words dying on her lips as she stared at the open door of Mr. Tumnus' home.

"Lu?" Peter asked.

Lucy gasped and took off running toward the cliffside.

"Lucy!" Peter called after her.

"Lucy, wait!" Penny yelled, following the girl up the hill.

The wind echoed eerily around the exposed stone of Mr. Tumnus' home. It was dark inside, a far cry from the warm and cosy burrow Lucy had described along the way. Beautifully carved furniture littered the ground alongside long-since extinguished candles and torn feather cushions.

Penny carefully stepped over a pile of copper pots and pans, venturing further in despite the accelerated thud of her heart.

"Who would do something like this?" Lucy wondered out loud.

Glass crunched beneath Edmund's foot, and he looked down to see a framed painting of an older-looking faun.

"What's that on the wall?" Susan pointed to the scroll pinned to the tree in the centre of the room.

Penny reached up and tore the paper from the nail. "The former occupant of these premises, the Faun Tumnus, is hereby charged with High Treason against Her Imperial Majesty..."

Jadis.

The word swirled around her brain, and Penny felt as though a bucket of ice water had been tipped over her head.

Jadis.

The wind hissed in her ears until her stomach twisted and turned, and she felt like she was going to be sick.

"Her Imperial Majesty Jadis," Peter continued in place of Penny. "Queen of Narnia, Chatelaine of Cair Paravel, Empress of the Lone Islands, for comforting her enemies and fraternising with humans. Signed Maugrim, Captain of the Secret Police. Long live the Queen."

Susan took the paper from Peter's hands and looked down toward Lucy, "All right. Now we really should go back."

"But what about Mr. Tumnus?" Lucy insisted.

"If he was arrested just for being with a human, I don't think there's much we can do." Susan said.

"You don't understand, do you?" Lucy stared up at them. "I'm the human. She must have found out he helped me."

Not being able to bear the look on little Lucy's face, Penny looked at Peter. "Isn't there anything we can do?"

"Maybe we should call the police." Peter suggested to Susan.

"These are the police." Susan stated.

Peter crouched down to Lucy's level and squeezed her hand. "Don't worry, Lucy, we'll think of something."

"Why?" Edmund finally spoke. "I mean, he's a criminal."

Penny scoffed. "According to this so-called Queen, but if what Lucy said is right? Then all he did was invite her back to his house for tea. Where's the crime in that?"

Just outside the door, a robin landed on a branch and chirped merrily.

"Psst!"

Penny slowly twisted her neck and stared at the small creature with a confused glint.

Susan spun back around to them. "Did that bird just 'psst' us?"

Peter took the lead, guiding them back out onto the snowy knoll. As the bird flew away, still singing its ebullient tune, nearby branches cracked ominously as if something was closing in on them.

"Psst!"

Something called from the trees amongst the rustling foliage.

Lucy grabbed onto Penny's arm, her grip as tight as a snake's. They peered across the pure white embankment, trepidation rising, when out from behind a large rock appeared a beaver padding its way toward them. They stood there for a few moments, astonished and relieved.

"It... It's a beaver." Lucy remarked, dumbfounded that such an ordinary creature lived in a world like Narnia.

The beaver lowered itself closer to the ground as it slowly approached.

Peter took a hesitant step forward and extended his hand toward the small creature."Here, boy," he clicked his tongue, holding his hand out further. "Here, boy."

The beaver furrowed its brow as it stared at his hand. "Well, I ain't gonna smell it if that's what you want!"

Penny's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"Oh. Sorry." Peter apologised.

The beaver fixed his gaze upon the youngest and most cheerful of the group. She was exactly as Mr. Tumnus had described. "Lucy Pevensie?" He asked, just to make sure.

Lucy's smile dropped when he said her name. She stepped out from behind Penny and took gentle steps toward the beaver.

"Yes?"

The beaver unfolded a square of cloth and held it out toward the young girl. She recognised the scalloped lace edges and the handsewn L instantly, "That's the hankie I gave to Mr. Tum—"

"Tumnus." The beaver interrupted. "He got it to me just before they took him."

"Is he all right?" Lucy asked.

The beaver turned his head left and then right. "Further in," he whispered and scurried off back towards the rocks.

Penny, along with Peter and Lucy, was quick to follow the strange talking creature. Despite her previous fear and hesitation of the world around her, it all felt so familiar to her. The trees, the rocks, even the frosty air nipping at the tip of her nose—Narnia was the fantastical land that had been rattling around in her head since she was old enough to dream.

"What are you doing?" Susan scolded her older brother.

"She's right." Edmund agreed with her. "How do we know we can trust him?"

Penny shrugged. "Well, he seems pretty harmless."

"And besides, he says he knows the faun." Peter backed her up.

Susan looked at both of them as if they had grown two heads. "He's a beaver. He shouldn't be saying anything!" She reasoned.

The beaver suddenly reappeared, this time popping his small body over the top of the rock. "Everything all right?"

Peter spun around. "Yes. We were just talking."

The beaver sniffed the air and lowered his voice back to a whisper. "That's better left for safer corners."

"He means the trees." Lucy clarified.

"The trees?" Penny replied.

"Mr. Tumnus said that the woods are full of the Queen's spies, that even some of the trees are on her side."

Daughter of summer aire. Follow. Protection. Safety.

Penny nodded to the whispers of the wind. "She's right, we should get somewhere. Quickly."

"Come on. We don't want to be caught out here after nightfall." Mr Beaver told them.

Between the cliffs was a bridge of sorts, one Penny felt as though she had often seen throughout the English countryside. It was small and carved from the stone, an archway leading to new, undiscovered land. When they emerged from the narrow pathway, they stood on a ledge overlooking a small house in the middle of a frozen lake.

"Ah, blimey!" Mr Beaver's voice echoed off the stone. "Looks like the old girl has got the kettle on. Nice cup o' Rosy Lee."

Lucy's smile widened. "It's lovely."

"It's merely a trifle, you know. Still plenty to do." Mr Beaver contested. "Ain't quite finished it yet. It'll look the business when it is, though."

Around the frozen-over lake was a large barrier of fallen tree logs, cemented together with mud, with snow piled up along the bottom to keep it stable. The closer they got, the more beautiful Penny believed it became.

"It's coming along quite nicely," she complimented. "Truly, Mr Beaver, it looks very cosy."

Penny imagined that if Beavers could blush, Mr Beaver's cheeks would've been bright red. "Thank you, but that's all my wife's doing."

A woman's voice came from inside the house."Beaver, is that you?"

Mr Beaver nodded towards the door. "Speaking of..."

"I've been worried sick! If I find you've been out with Badger again, I..." Mrs Beaver stopped mid-sentence, gazing up at the humans in shock. "Oh! Well, those aren't badgers. Oh, I never thought I'd live to see this day." Mrs Beaver smoothed her paws down her front. "Look at my fur. You couldn't give me ten minutes' warning?"

"I'd have given you a week if I thought it would've helped," he chuckled.

The children giggled along with him.

Mrs Beaver shook her head fondly. "Oh, come inside, and see if we can't get you some food, and some civilised company."

"Now, careful. Watch your step." Mr Beaver said.

"Excuse the mess." Mrs Beaver laughed awkwardly. "Can't get Mr. Beaver to get out of his chair."

Penny was in awe of the beaver's dam. It was cosy and warm, with a fire flickering off to the side and several pans of sliced potatoes and fresh-caught fish cooking over it. Penny took a seat beside Peter at the round table while Mrs Beaver gathered plates, and Lucy nuzzled herself under Penny's arm in an attempt to warm her freezing hands and face.

Peter cast a concerned look at Mr Beaver across the table. "Isn't there anything we can do to help Tumnus?"

"They'll have taken him to the Witch's. You know what they say. There's few that go through them gates that come out again." Mr Beaver replied.

Mrs Beaver's webbed feet pitter-patted along the icy floor. "Fish 'n' chips?" She put a full plate of food in front of Lucy and placed a gentle hand on her small shoulder. "But there is hope, dear. Lots of hope."

Mr Beaver spat his drink back into his cup. "Oh, yeah, there's a right bit more than hope!" He looked around the dam and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Aslan is on the move!"

Penny tilted her head at the name. Aslan. It sounded so familiar, like everything else in the land.

Edmund stood from his place on the staircase behind them. "Who's Aslan?"

"Who's Aslan?" Mr Beaver laughed heartily. "You cheeky little blighter." At the children's look of genuine confusion, Mrs Beaver slapped her hand against her husband's chest to get him to stop. Mr Beaver shook his head. "What?" He looked at the children, and his eyes widened in disbelief. "You don't know, do you?"

"Well, we haven't exactly been here very long." Peter shrugged.

"Well, he's only the king of the whole wood. The top geezer. The real King of Narnia!" Mr Beaver told them.

"The real King?" Penny repeated.

Mrs Beaver nodded. "Yes. He's been away for a long while."

"But he's just got back! And he's waitin' for you near the Stone Table!" Mr Beaver exclaimed.

"He's waiting for us?" Lucy asked.

Penny shook her head in disbelief. "But this is our first time here. How would he even know of us?"

"You're blooming joking!" Mr Beaver slapped the table. "They don't even know about the prophecy!"

"Well, then..." Mrs Beaver gestured for her husband to continue the story.

"Look. Aslan's return, Tumnus' arrest, the secret police, it's all happening because of you!" Mr Beaver explained.

"You're blaming us?" Susan asked, accusingly.

"No! Not blaming." Mrs Beaver denied. "Thanking you!"

"There's a prophecy." Mr Beaver began. ""When Adam's flesh and Adam's bone sits at Cair Paravel in throne, the evil time will be over and done.""

"You know that doesn't really rhyme." Susan pointed out.

Mr Beaver waved her comment off. "Yeah, I know it don't, but you're kinda missin' the point!"

Mrs Beaver continued. "It has long been foretold that two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve will defeat the White Witch and restore peace to Narnia alongside the lost princess."

Princess of Summer Aire.

The wind whispered into Penny's ears.

Peter raised his brow. "And you think we're the ones?"

"Well you'd better be, 'cause Aslan's already fitted out your army." Mr Beaver replied.

"Our army?" Lucy repeated.

Susan turned toward Peter and spoke through gritted teeth. "Mum sent us away so we wouldn't get caught up in a war."

Penny felt lost. Lost in the whispers of the wind and the muffled voices around her. It was like the world was spinning, and she couldn't find a purchase. Like something inside her was wrong but right all at once.

"...lost princess?" Lucy's sweet voice cut through the susurrating wind.

Mr Beaver threw his hands into the air. "Yes! The lost princess of Narnia. Do you kids know nothin'?"

"Beaver, please." Mrs Beaver shot him a warning glare. "The lost princess was prophesied long ago, when the White Witch first began her attack on Narnia. "Born in the depths of the coldest despair, With hair like the sun and a spirit laid bare, She'll dance through the meadows where snows used to reign, And bring forth the blossoms where sorrows remain.""

"Legend says Aslan risked his life to get the babe from the Witch's grasp, that the Witch planned to rid of her spawn usin' ancient magic." Mr Beaver told the tale that his parents used to recite to him. "After Aslan saved the princess, he realised she still wasn't safe, and so he sent her to a distant land under the ward of a trusted ally. Somebody he knew would keep her safe until it was time for her to return."

"But, if you four are the sons and daughters, then..." Mrs Beaver gasped. She tugged on her husband's arm and whispered into his ear. "Oh my! Beaver, it must be! Look at them," her eyes flitted between Penny and Peter.

The sixteen-year-olds shared a confused look.

Mr Beaver chuckled. "It's you. You're the lost princess!"

"Me? I, I'm not a princess." Penny refused the beaver's dramatic notions. "I grew up in the English countryside."

"With Professor Kirke." Peter interrupted her. "You told me he found you in a field, in the middle of nowhere."

Penny furrowed her brow. "So? Lots of people abandon their children, Peter, it does not mean I'm some princess of a fairytale land."

"But you've dreamt of this place your whole life." Lucy interjected.

"That's a coincidence." As she waved her hand, her fingers got caught in her hair. Her light blonde strands wrapped loosely around each finger, mixed with those of copper. A bold stripe of fiery red that hadn't belonged there before. "How...?"

"It's already started happening. The child of warmth, just as the centaurs said." Mrs Beaver smiled warmly. "You, my dear, are the most important of all."

"I think you've made a mistake. We're not heroes!" Peter denied.

"We're from Finchley." Susan agreed.

Mr and Mrs Beaver turned to each other and shrugged. Neither of them had ever heard of Finchley before.

"Thank you for your hospitality." Susan gathered her coat and stood from her chair. "But we really have to go."

Penny and Peter followed suit.

"No, you can't just leave." Mr Beaver insisted.

"He's right." Lucy stared up at them with pleading eyes. "We have to help Mr. Tumnus."

"It's out of our hands." Peter left no room for arguments. "I'm sorry, but it's time the five of us were getting home. Ed?" They turned to where Edmund had last been sitting, only to find him gone and the door to the dam wide open. "Ed?" Peter turned back to Susan. "I'm gonna kill him."

"You may not have to." Mr Beaver's expression darkened. "Has Edmund ever been to Narnia before?"

THE LAYER OF THICK SNOW COVERING THE GROUND MADE IT DIFFICULT TO RUN UP THE HILL AND AFTER EDMUND, the boy was much further ahead and determined to outrun his sibling's screams for him to come back.

"Hurry!" Peter yelled at them, ploughing ahead, desperate to get to his brother before the Witch did.

The castle was by far the tallest structure Penny had ever seen, and with its stalagmite-like structure glowing ominously against the darkening sky, her stomach twisted with dread. By the time they finally made it to the top of the hill, they were already too late, only able to watch as Edmund disappeared through the castle gates.

"Edmund!" Lucy screamed across the snowy plain.

Mr Beaver jumped. "Shh! They'll hear ya!"

Peter lunged forward, prepared to run across the plain to save his little brother.

"No!" Mr Beaver grabbed Peter by the sleeve of his coat, pulling him back.

"Peter!" Penny warned.

Peter yanked his sleeve out of Mr Beaver's paw. "Get off me!"

"You're playing into her hands." Mr Beaver tried to reason with them.

"We just can't let him go!" Susan exclaimed.

"He's our brother!" Lucy added.

"He's the bait!" Mr Beaver shouted at them. "The Witch wants all five of ya!"

"Why?" Peter demanded to know.

"To stop the prophecy from coming true! To kill ya!" Mr Beaver tried his best to help them understand. He motioned to Penny. "She's been seachin' for her since Aslan took her, creatin' ice storms and blizzards through the land. She won't stop until you're all dead!"

Penny felt her heart sink to her stomach, Mr Beaver's words swirling around her head as the castle doors cracked closed behind Edmund.

"This is all your fault." Susan accused her older brother.

Peter scoffed. "My fault?"

"None of this would have happened if you had just listened to me in the first place!" Susan shrilled.

"Oh, so you knew this would happen?" Peter argued.

"I didn't know what would happen." Susan defended herself. "Which is why we should have left while we still could!"

Penny's skin prickled with warmth, the tips of her ears grew red as her frustration rose further and further the more she listened to the Pevensies argue.

"Would you two cut it out?" Penny screamed at them. "I am sick of being in between your sibling squabbles. It's bad enough you barged your way into my home and messed up my life, I don't need to listen to you go on and on."

"Stop it!" Lucy cried out. She looked between her brother and sister. "This isn't going to help Edmund."

"She's right." Mr Beaver agreed. "Only Aslan can save your brother now."

Peter lowered his gaze to meet the beaver's eye. "Then take us to him," he muttered, casting one last glance toward the closing castle gates.

Penny was the first of the children to begin the trek back down the hill, Mr Beaver only a few feet ahead. It was a quiet journey, the snow crunching beneath their feet and leaves rustling in the frozen breeze acting as breaks from the silence they had been plunged into.

While Penny agreed with Peter that they must get Edmund back from the clutches of the White Witch, she disagreed with his methods. Charging into the castle with no weapons and no plan would've been a fool's errand, and if the Witch was as dangerous as Mr Beaver made out, they would need the help of this mysterious Aslan as much as Narnia appeared to need them.

The warm yellow glow of the dam lit up the night, like a lighthouse guiding sailors home, but the distant howling of the Witch's wolves reminded them that not even home were they safe.

Penny spun around to look back up the hill. "What was that?"

Susan let out a shaky breath. "Sounded like wolves."

"The royal guards! Quickly! Run, run!" Mr Beaver rushed them into the dam.

Penny was surprised that the small door didn't snap off its hinges with the force they ran into it at.

"Hurry, Mama! They're after us!" Mr Beaver yelled to his wife.

"Oh, right then..." Mrs Beaver dashed to the cupboards behind her and began packing the contents into a bag she pulled out from under the table.

"What's she doing?" Peter asked, only for Mr Beaver to respond with a shrug.

"Oh, you'll be thanking me later. It's a long journey, and Beaver gets pretty cranky when he's hungry."

Susan rushed to help Mrs Beaver while Penny and Peter pushed their back up against the door to stop it from blowing open in the wild winter wind.

"I'm cranky now!" Mr Beaver exclaimed.

"Do you think we'll need jam?" Susan asked Mrs Beaver.

"Only if the Witch serves toast." Peter responded sarcastically.

Penny rolled her eyes at the boy and pressed back even harder into the wooden board the beavers had fashioned into a door. With a glance out the frosted glass, Penny could see the fleeting shadows of the wolves' long bodies circling the dam's perimeter, their growls growing louder.

A loud crack sounded from the ceiling, and a wolf's gnashing jaw was all Penny could see amongst the splinted wood.

"This way!" Mr Beaver called them over to a hole dug deep into the ground.

"Go on, children," Mrs Beaver encouraged, slipping into the hole only once all the children were safely down.

Penny could feel dirty, slimy roots dragging along the side of her face as they ran at lightning speed. The flickering flame Peter kept a firm grip on was the only source of light they had, and Penny desperately followed it like a moth.

"Badger and me dug this. Comes out right near his place." Mr Beaver explained.

Mrs Beaver gasped. "You told me it led to your mum's!"

Lucy let out a sudden shriek as her foot caught on a root, and she went tumbling to the ground with a thud.

"Lucy!" Susan yelped and quickly tugged her sister back onto her feet.

Penny dusted off the girl's hands. "Are you alright?"

Lucy's attention was drawn behind Penny and further down the tunnel. "They're in the tunnel," she whispered.

"Quick! This way." Mr Beaver directed them.

"Hurry!" Mrs Beaver cried.

Peter looked back to find the girls lagging behind. "Run!"

"What do you think we're doing?" Penny yelled back at him, her hand gripped onto the back of Lucy's coat to keep her from falling again.

"Quick! Quick! Quick!" Mrs Beaver called to them.

They continued to run further through the tunnels, and each turn made Penny's head spin as the wavering orange flame dazed her eyes in the darkness. Sharp twigs that stuck out of the dirt walls scratched across Penny's cheeks, and she felt one of them leave a small jagged cut just below her eye.

The tunnel came to an abrupt stop.

"You should have brought a map!" Mrs Beaver screeched at her husband.

"There wasn't room next to the jam!" Mr Beaver shouted back.

Mr Beaver wiggled his bum and launched himself, his claws digging into the compacted dirt to crawl his way up. Mrs Beaver followed closely behind, with Lucy, Penny and Susan directly on her tail.

"Come on, Lucy!" Penny and Susan ushered the girl out of the hole and back into the icy winds of the Narnian forest.

Peter waited for the girls to get up before abandoning the torch and scrambling out himself.

"Peter!" Penny reached out her hand and helped pull him the rest of the way.

Susan grabbed Penny's arm by her sleeve and pulled her back with them while Peter and Mr Beaver seized a nearby barrel and rolled it in front of the hole. Lucy screamed out and landed with a clatter on the snow.

They spun around to see Lucy's legs splayed out across stone figurines of animals that Penny quickly recognised to be a clan of badgers. Mr Beaver's relieved smile fell, his face turning solemn as he realised what the White Witch had done.

He slowly made his way further into the forest, the children trailing behind. He approached the stone Badger and gently touched its raised paw.

Mrs Beaver wrapped her arms around him. "I'm so sorry, dear."

Mr Beaver swallowed around the lump in his throat. "He was my best mate."

The children looked around at the devastation. It wasn't just the badgers who had been turned into stone, but every animal unwilling to aid the White Witch in her mission to capture and kill them. Every animal that believed in a free Narnia, over the winter hellscape she had created.

"What happened here?" Peter asked.

"This is what becomes of those who cross the Witch."

They looked up to find a fox stood high above the Badger's hide, his dirty red coat muted against the darkening sky. Peter wrapped his arm around the girls, forcing them behind him as the fox jumped down from the rocks.

Mr Beaver marched toward the him. "You take one more step, traitor, and I'll chew you to splinters!" He spat.

Mr Fox laughed. "Relax. I'm one of the good guys."

"Yeah?" Mr Beaver questioned. "Well, you look an awful lot like one of the bad ones."

Mr Fox grimaced. "An unfortunate family resemblance. But we can argue breeding later. Right now we've got to move."

Behind them, they heard wood splinter and the wolves' barking grow louder.

Peter's eyes widened. "What did you have in mind?"

"Over there." Mr Fox nodded toward a leafless tree, whose thick branches spread out like misshapen fingers.

"You want us to climb that?" Susan tried to argue, but there was no time.

"I'll go first," Penny offered and placed her foot on the bark before the others could stop her.

She scaled the tree with an ease the Pevensies had never seen before, and once she was far enough up, she stretched out her hand to pull Lucy up. At Peter's insistence, Susan went next, and by the time it was his turn, the wolves had broken free from the tunnels and were bounding through the forest toward them.

Below them, Mr Fox swished his tail along the ground to cover their tracks and mark the area with his scent, masking the smell of human fear. The wolves burst into the clearing and encircled Mr Fox.

"Greetings, gents." Mr Fox announced. "Lost something, have we?"

"Don't patronise me!" Maugrim snarled at him. "I know where your allegiance lies. We're looking for some humans."

Mr Fox chuckled unconvincingly. "Humans? Here in Narnia? That's a valuable bit of information, don't you think?"

One of the wolves pounced and took Mr Fox harshly in his jaw; his teeth clamped into the flesh of his side. Lucy let out a strangled gasp, but Peter quickly clasped his hand over her mouth.

Maugrim stalked closer to the whining fox. "Your reward is your life. It's not much, but still. Where were the fugitives?"

Penny's breath caught in her throat, and her hand tightened on Susan's as she watched Mr Fox hang his head in shame.

He lifted his paw to point. "North. They ran north."

"Smell them out." Maugrim ordered his men.

He took off deeper into the forest, the other wolves swiftly following behind. The wolf holding Mr Fox tossed him onto the ground with little care, leaving him to bleed out of the puncture holes his razor-sharp teeth had left behind.

THE FIRE CRACKLED LOW AND STEADY UNDER THE DARKENED SKY. Mr Fox's injuries were not as extensive as Penny had feared when they were watching from the tree, the wounds in his side not as deep as they had first appeared.

It was fortunate that Mrs Beaver had been so prepared, for a small first-aid kit containing a needle and thread was stuck inside her bag, right beside the jar of sticky strawberry jam. It was also fortunate that after years of being forced to learn needlepoint at Mrs Macready's instance, Penny had an extremely steady hand.

"They were helping Tumnus. The Witch got here before I did." Mr Fox explained to them. "Ow! Oh!" He cried out.

"You need to stay still." Penny scolded Mr Fox.

Lucy frowned and curled into Susan's side. "Are you all right?"

"Well, I wish I could say their bark was worse than their bite." Mr Fox whimpered. "Ow!"

Penny flinched her hand backwards while Mrs Beaver planted her paws harshly into his furry back to keep him from jumping too far off the ground.

"Stop squirming!" Mrs Beaver upbraided with a disapproving shake of her head. "You're worse than Beaver on bath day."

Mr Beaver shuddered. "Worst day of the year."

Mr Fox slowly unfurled his legs from beneath his body and stood with a slight limp on his left side. "Thank you for your kindness, but that's all the cure I have time for," he thanked them sincerely.

Lucy was shocked. "You're leaving?"

Mr Fox bowed to them. "It has been a pleasure, My Queen, and an honour, but time is short, and Aslan himself has asked me to gather more troops."

Mr Beaver leaned in closer. "You've seen Aslan?"

"What's he like?" Mrs Beaver asked eagerly.

Mr Fox sighed with delight, "Like everything we've ever heard," he turned to the children. "You'll be glad to have him by your side in the battle against the Witch."

"But we're not planning fighting any witch." Susan argued.

"But surely, King Peter, the prophecy!" Mr Fox pleaded.

"We can't go to war without you." Mr Beaver added.

Peter looked toward his sisters, the joint fear in their eyes. He thought of Edmund, somewhere out there with a wicked witch, out of spite and jealousy, but also fear of what was to come. Lastly, he snuck a glance at Penny, their shoulders brushing against each other as they perched together on the small log. She refused to look at them, and he knew it was out of guilt. She wanted to stay and help, as did he, but, out of responsibility as the eldest, they would leave as soon as they were able.

Finally, he said, "We just want our brother back."

There was a look of desperation in Mr Fox's eyes. "Princess?"

Penny focused her gaze on the dark forest surrounding them and swallowed down her indecision. "I just want to go home."

Hours passed, and the fire slowly dwindled, its flame lacking warmth and light dying. Penny watched as Mr Beaver kicked his webbed paws in his sleep, snoring louder than she thought an animal his size would. Peter sat beside her, unable to sleep at the same time as his sisters for fear of the wolves coming back to take them away.

"Are you okay?" Peter whispered over the faint popping of the firewood.

"I don't know." Penny answered him honestly. "Apparently I'm a princess of a land I've dreamt about since I was a child."

"Apparently I'm going to be a King." Peter chuckled bitterly.

Penny glanced at him from over her shoulder. "I don't think you'd be a bad king."

Peter caught her stare. "I don't think you'd be a bad princess."

Penny sighed and looked back up at the leafless trees. "I'm boiling," she complained, shrugging off her coat and letting it drape onto the ground.

Peter looked at her as though she were mad. Even under the thick fur wrapped tightly around his body, he was still shivering.

"Maybe they are right. Maybe you are the child of warmth." Peter said it like a joke, but he wasn't kidding. There was something different about Penny that he couldn't quite place, something pure and light.

"A child born of an evil witch, if the tales the talking animals have spun are to be believed." Penny picked at the skin around her fingernails, the sting of the skin peeling away a strange sort of comfort. If she could feel pain, then she was still just Penny. Still human.

"Maybe that's the point." Peter told her. "Maybe you really are the one destined to stop her."

With the bit of confidence she had, Penny shuffled closer to him on the short log and gently rested her head on his shoulder. Peter stiffened beneath her head before forcing himself to relax, and quietly he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. The cold tips of his fingers against her close-to-feverish skin made her jump, but with a few swipes of his thumb rubbing small circles across her arm, she melted into him like ice under the spring sun.

But even as she let her guard down, and the future didn't look so bleak and full of battle and bloodshed, Penny had a terrible feeling. A dull, persistent ache that had built a home and settled beneath her ribs, that Peter was right.

Silver clouds gathered in the sky above her, the warm breeze turning icy cold. The sun dimmed, and the waves grew stronger, crashing against the cliffs with the ferocity of a lion's mighty roar. When she finally touched the forest floor, Penny was surprised to feel the powdered snow beneath her bare feet, the coldness slowly creeping up from the tips of her toes and to the end of her nose.

When Penny woke up, she could still feel the icy chill in her bones. She looked around her room to find her blanket tossed onto the floor and the window still propped open from the night before. The heavy rain bouncing off the glass seeped onto her windowsill, and Penny quickly jumped up to grab a towel.

Shaking the dream from her mind, Penny quickly got ready for the day. She was already behind schedule by ten minutes, and while Mrs Macready was more forgiving about chores on days Penny had early morning lessons, she still wanted them done before lunch.

With a thin cardigan tossed around her shoulders and her favourite Mary Janes strapped to her feet, Penny took a hesitant step out into the hallway. It comforted her a little, knowing that the Pevensie's bedrooms were further down the hall, but Penny wasn't sure she would ever get used to the idea of sharing Kirke Manor with other children.

She hadn't seen any of the Pevensies since two nights ago when she first met Peter, and while she had told him that she would see him around the manor, she had done her very best to avoid him and his siblings.

Being the benevolent man that he is, her Uncle Diggory had waved her early morning lesson yesterday under the guise of having too much research to conduct, so she kept to her room, only peeking out of her window when she heard laughing below it to find the youngest Pevensie running around the grounds, happily being chased by her two eldest siblings. The sight made her smile, but as soon as Peter looked up directly at her window, she let the net curtain fall and scrambled away from the glass as quickly as she could.

Penny knocked twice on the professor's study door and pushed it open to find him sitting on one of the sofas with a small book in his hands.

"Good morning, Uncle Diggory." Penny chirped.

"Good morning, dear girl." Diggory smiled at her. "How did you enjoy your day off yesterday?"

"Greatly, I spent the day finishing up my knitting, and I painted another scene on my wall." It was of a snowy lamp post surrounded by trees. Thinking back on it, maybe that was the reason for her strange dream.

"Have you met any of the children yet?" Diggory asked.

Penny hesitated, "Just one, the eldest. He seems nice enough, though we shall have to see if their manners continue into their stay."

Diggory waved the comment off. "Still, I'm glad you made yourself known to them."

Penny didn't have the heart to tell him it was by complete accident. "What are we learning today?"

The professor adjusted his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. "I thought we could go over the works of T.S. Eliot. I do believe you would enjoy many of his poems."

Their lesson lasted around two hours, but Penny didn't mind missing breakfast. Her uncle was correct; she was very interested in the poems. By the time Penny got to the kitchen, Mrs Macready was already making her tea, and a plate of fresh toast was waiting on the counter.

"Good morning, Mrs Macready."

Mrs Macready poured the hot water from the kettle into Penny's favourite mug. "Mornin' Penelope. How was your lesson?"

"It was good." Penny looked at the plate of plain toast with a slight frown.

"Do we have any—"

"In the cupboard." Mrs Macready pointed to the one right beside Penny's head.

Penny reached up and opened the cupboard door. She instantly spotted the fresh jar of strawberry jam and quickly grabbed a butter knife to spread it along her toast. Mrs Macready placed the tea beside the plate just as Penny bit into the sickly sweet toast.

Mrs Macready tutted. "I don't know how you can eat that much jam."

Penny washed the toast down with her equally as sugary tea. "I just like sweet things," she shrugged.

Mrs Macready shook her head, trying to hide her growing smile. "I trust I can leave you to do the washin' up?"

"Yes, Mrs Macready and I will get the rest of my chores done before lunchtime."

"Very good. Will you be eatin' with the other children in the dinin' room or in here?" Mrs Macready asked.

Penny felt the knot in her stomach return at the thought of eating with the others. "In here will be fine for today."

Mrs Macready nodded and left with the broom in hand. Penny took another bite of her toast, though her appetite had depleted significantly. She looked at herself through the window's reflection. It was just as dark and stormy as it was when she first woke up.

A shadow behind her caught her attention, and she whipped around to find a young dark-haired boy staring back at her with wide eyes.

"Who are you?" Penny asked.

"Who are you?" The boy shot back rudely.

Penny was taken aback by his attitude. "I'm Penny, I live here with Professor Kirke."

"Oh, you're the girl Peter met. The one who isn't interested in getting to know us," he mocked.

"I never said that." Penny replied.

He smirked, "That's not what Peter said."

"Well, it isn't what happened, Edmund."

Edmund faltered. "How do you know my name?"

"If you had really spoken to your brother about our conversation, you would already know," Penny said, taking another bite of her toast, a satisfying crunch filling the room.

Edmund's ears burned and he quickly turned towards the pantry to avoid further embarrassment. "Whatever. Do you know where the sweets are?"

Penny furrowed her brow. "Didn't you eat breakfast an hour ago?"

"So?" Edmund groaned. "Look, do you know where the sweets are or not?"

"Not." Penny replied sternly. "Now get out so I can enjoy my breakfast in peace."

Edmund scoffed but didn't say anything more as he headed out the door. Penny turned back to the window, finally noticing the scowl she hadn't realized had been on her face. She found herself hoping that if she ever did encounter the Pevensie sisters, they wouldn't share the same rudeness as him.

THE RAIN WAS STILL HAMMERING AGAINST THE WINDOW PANES EVEN AFTER LUNCH. Bored, Penny found herself in the library working on her 'etiquette lessons' as one of the village women had put it. Apparently, Penny had 'poor posture' and 'desperately needed to work on it'. The comment had upset Penny, but if it helped her become a proper member of society, then she decided she didn't mind the criticism.

Penny pinned her hair back into a loose ponytail, the blonde ringlets tickling the back of her neck. Another criticism from the woman was that Penny's hair was far too long, however Penny thought that it was a perfectly fine length, resting just above her breast. She lifted the books she held in her hands onto the top of her head, balancing them just so as she took her first step along the edge of the coffee table. With her arms spread out to either side, she took a second step, then a third, and a fourth until, eventually, she had looped in a circle and was back to where she had started.

She continued her lesson, adding another book after her fourth loop of the table when the door to the library opened. Penny froze, expecting Mrs Macready to begin yelling, but instead, she heard the small gasp of a little girl. Penny leaned her head forward and allowed the books to fall into her hands as she twisted around to find all four of the Pevensies staring at her, their expressions ranging from disbelief to impressed.

"Sorry, we didn't know anybody was in here." Peter gave Susan a look, which made Penny wonder if she had been the one to suggest going in.

"It's alright." Penny smiled at them and looked at the two girls. "I'm Penny, by the way."

"I'm Susan." The older girl introduced herself. "And this is Lucy." She pointed to the younger girl with the cutest green cardigan Penny had ever seen.

"What are you doing?" Lucy asked, her tone full of surprise.

"I'm working on my posture," Penny answered the girl's question. "What are you all doing?"

"We were looking for something to do, considering the weather's so atrocious," Susan explained. "I thought maybe there could be something to do in here."

"There's plenty of books, many of them are factual or autobiographies, but I have a good selection of fiction novels on that bookshelf there." Penny pointed to the large bookshelf in the far corner of the room. "You could borrow a few if you'd like."

"You want us to read?" Edmund retorted with a roll of his eyes.

Peter nudged him to be quiet.

Penny pulled the books to her chest and crossed her arms over them. "Didn't you say you were looking for something to do? Reading is a perfectly normal way of passing the time."

Susan smiled smugly at her brothers. "That's what I'm always saying."

"I suppose being orphaned would give you lots of free time," Edmund mumbled.

"Ed!" Peter scolded him.

"Edmund, that is a horrible thing to say." Susan gasped. "I'm so sorry for him."

Penny shrugged and threw the books she was holding onto the nearby armchair. "It's fine, I've heard worse." It was the truth, but she had to admit that the comment still stung. "Feel free to have a look around."

Noticing her hesitancy to jump down, Peter held his hand out to help Penny get down from the table. "Here."

"Thank you," Penny said, placing her warm hands into his colder ones.

With nothing better to do, Penny decided to grab her book from her room and join the Pevensies for an afternoon in the library. During her short time away, Susan had found the large dictionary her Uncle Diggory had purchased for her lessons and was sitting on the leather sofa with it in her lap.

Penny sat beside her and curled up in the corner without a word to the others. Susan began to list off words and was having her brothers and sister guess them. This interested them for the first two, but slowly, Lucy found herself staring glumly out of the window as thunder rumbled lowly in the distance and Edmund picked at the bottom of one of the chair's upholstery as he lay beneath it. Peter was the only one to feign interest, and Penny could tell that he was only doing it out of obligation of being the oldest rather than genuine interest.

"Gastrovascular." Susan repeated the word for a third time, much to the annoyance of her siblings. "Come on, Peter. Gastrovascular."

Peter looked at his sister with a bored expression. "Is it Latin?"

"Yes." Susan replied.

Edmund sat up from his place on the floor. "Is it Latin for worst game ever invented?" He snickered, making Peter and Lucy laugh too.

Susan slammed the book closed, the dust coating the pages and cover creating a small cloud that puffed up into her vexed face.

"The gastrovascular cavity is a digestive and circulatory organ found in certain animals. It's mostly found in cnidarians, jellyfish, corals, flatworms. Things like that." Penny laughed at Susan and Peter's shocked faces. "What? I've read every book in this library at least four times."

Peter smiled at Penny in a way that made her stomach flip. "And you didn't think to tell us that earlier?"

Penny shrugged, pulling the book closer to her face to hide the blush spreading across her cheeks.

"We could play hide and seek." Lucy suggested, climbing down from her perch at the window to lean against Peter's chair, her lip jutted into a pout.

Peter looked between his sisters. "But we're already having so much fun," he snarked.

"Come on, Peter, please." Lucy begged, tugging on his arm. "Pretty please?"

Peter glanced towards Penny, who gave him a small smile from over the top of her book.

"One, two, three, four..." Peter started counting, and Lucy's smile grew significantly.

"What?" Edmund complained.

Penny placed her book on the coffee table and looked at Susan in anticipation.

"...five, six, seven..."

"Come on!" Penny took Susan's hand and led her into the hallway.

"...nine, ten, eleven..."

They laughed as they ran through the halls and around the manor.

"Where are we going?" Susan managed to ask through her giggles.

Penny saw the twin chests at the end of the hall and pointed to them. "Over there!"

The girls cleared the candelabra and the small cat statue off the top of the chests and quickly climbed inside them. Even from inside the chest opposite, Penny could hear Susan's giggles and couldn't stop her from escaping.

"Susan, shh!" Penny whispered with a smile. "You're going to get us caught."

"I can't help it." Susan whispered back, another giggle escaping her mouth.

"...ninety-six, ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred!" Peter finally finished counting. "Ready or not, here I come!" Penny heard him yell.

The girls quietened and listened for the coming footsteps. Penny's heart beat rapidly, and she could feel butterflies violently fluttering inside her stomach. She hadn't played hide-and-seek since she was a small child, and Mrs Macready still humoured her girlish flights of fancy. After a few minutes, Penny heard voices coming from down the hall.

"Susan?" Penny lifted the top of her chest and cranked her neck to listen. "Do you hear that?"

Susan peeked out and glanced down the hallway. "Have Lucy and Ed been found already?"

The girls left their hiding spots and followed the sound of familiar voices talking.

"Weren't you wondering where I was?" Penny heard Lucy ask.

"That's the point." Edmund shook his head, talking to her the way an adult would speak to a dumb child. "That was why he was seeking you."

Penny and Susan turned the corner to find Peter, Edmund and Lucy standing in the middle of the hallway.

"Does this mean we win?" Susan asked jokingly.

Peter frowned at them. "I don't think Lucy wants to play any more."

Lucy looked up at them in confusion. "I've been gone for hours."

"Hours?" Penny shared a perplexed look with Peter. "Lucy, it's only been five minutes since we were in the library."

"Five minutes...?" Lucy muttered to herself. "But it was snowing, and there was a man with legs like a deer. He had a red umbrella, and I had tea at his house in the cliffs." She grew frantic, trying to describe the land she had just been in.

"Lucy, are you feeling alright?" Susan moved closer and placed the back of her hand against Lucy's forehead. "You don't have a temperature."

"I'm not sick! I was in Narnia." Lucy insisted.

Penny felt her blood run cold at Lucy's words.

Narnia.

"Narnia?" Peter repeated the word, making Penny's head spin. "Lucy, what's Narina?"

"I found it." Lucy claimed. "In the back of the wardrobe."

Penny trailed after the Pevensies, her feet growing heavier the closer she walked towards the room Lucy had just run out of. Shaking off the chill that ran down her spine, Penny and Edmund walked around the back of the large wardrobe. There was something familiar about it to Penny, but she was certain that in her twelve years of living in Kirke Manor, she had never seen anything like it before.

Susan leaned into the wardrobe, pushing aside the fur coats that hung inside. With a sigh, she knocked on the wooden panel at the back before climbing back out. "Lucy, the only wood in here is the back of the wardrobe."

"One game at a time, Lu." Peter tried to diffuse the tension. "We don't all have your imagination."

Penny glanced back at the little girl and the wardrobe behind her. She felt a tug in her stomach, almost like there was a string attached to it, pulling her further in. An unexplainable connection calling to her from inside.

"But I wasn't imagining!" Lucy shouted after her siblings.

Susan gave her sister a hard look, one Penny could tell she had gotten from their mother. "That's enough, Lucy."

"I wouldn't lie about this!" she protested, her voice cracking as she struggled to get them to believe her.

"Well, I believe you." Edmund replied, a slight smirk tugging on his mouth.

Lucy, surprised by the earnestness of Edmund's tone, furrowed her brow. "You do?"

"Yeah, of course." Edmund almost couldn't contain the laugh threatening to leave his lips. "Didn't I tell you about the football field in the bathroom cupboards?"

Seeing Lucy's face fall, Peter sighed heavily. "Will you just stop?" He interrupted, agitated by Edmund's ability to make anything about himself. "You just have to make everything worse, don't you?"

"It was just a joke!" Edmund shot back defensively, though he regretted the 'joke' as soon as he had seen the look on Lucy's face.

"When are you gonna learn to grow up?" Peter's tone was sharp, but Penny could hear the tiredness beneath it.

"Shut up! You think you're Dad, but you're not!" Edmund yelled, running out of the room angrily.

Susan scoffed as she watched her younger brother run down the hall. "Well, that was nicely handled," she said to Peter before chasing Edmund down the hall.

"But... It really was there." Lucy's voice was smaller now, quieter and more gentle than before at seeing her sibling's fight.

Peter cleared his throat, glancing at Penny with an apologetic glint in his eye as he backed out of the door. "Susan's right, Lucy. That's enough," he addressed his sister one last time before leaving.

Penny took a deep breath, her heart breaking a little as Lucy's bottom lip trembled. She ran her hand down the side of the wardrobe before approaching the girl in the centre of the room. Swallowing her fear, Penny crouched to Lucy's eye level and leaned in closer.

"Tell me about Narnia."

Out of the corner of her left eye, petals began to fly. She stopped and turned to find them floating in the air, taking the vague form of a woman. Naked and free, the way nature had intended all women to be before clothes and impossible expectations were manufactured. With a smile, Penny pushed on, no longer weighed down by the water-ridden fur or the snow piled around her feet. She almost felt like dancing, pirouetting through the fields and gliding along the air.

The crowd parted as they stepped near, the Beavers leading the way with an almost nervous excitement. Penny felt it too, her grip on the dual blades hanging from her belt tightening ever so slightly. As they passed by Narnia's creatures, all stopped, stilling for a moment to catch a glimpse of their supposed saviours. Penny recognised some from the mythology books her Uncle had in the Library: Centaurs, Fauns, Dwarfs, and animals (beavers, bears, leopards, horses) all somehow imbued with the power of speech.

Some smiled, some followed, the crowd that welcomed them in now shutting off the frost-ridden world they had left behind.

"Why are they all staring at us?" Susan asked through gritted teeth that she had forced into a smile so as not to seem rude.

"Maybe they think you look funny." Lucy giggled, looking up at her sister.

Penny shrugged, glancing around the campsite. "To them, we do."

Mr Beaver ran a hand down his wife's back, "Oh, stop your fussing, Mrs Beaver. You look lovely."

The crowd thinned once again, funnelling them toward the largest tent on the site, raised up a little higher than the rest on the mossy stone. A large man with the body of a horse waited outside, eyeing them up and down suspiciously.

Peter drew his sword, holding it up proudly, "We have come to see Aslan." He announced to the centaur with a little less confidence than he had intended.

The crowd murmured expectantly, familiar whispers reaching Penny's ears. The Lost Princess, they called her. The same as the beavers and the voices of the wind. The breeze shifted, swirling away from Penny's side and toward the tent. The curtained door blew gently, and Penny heard a low snarl from inside. Like a tidal wave, the creatures behind them lowered onto one knee, their heads bowed and eyes trained on the green grass below.

The children looked back at the tent, a bubble of apprehension ready to burst in Penny's chest. The curtain finally pushed open, a large orange paw stepping out into the warm sunlight. The body of a magnificent lion followed, his mane fluttering in the gentle breeze. The first thing Penny noticed was his eyes, old and kind in a way that reminded her greatly of her Uncle Diggory.

The girls followed Peter's lead, bowing their heads and falling to their knees in respect.

"Welcome Peter, Adam's son, Welcome Susan and Lucy, daughters-of-Eve. Welcome Penelope, our lost Princess. And welcome to you, Beavers. You have my thanks." Aslan's deep voice rang through the camp. "But where is the fourth?"

The children rose to their feet.

"That's why we're here, sir," Peter stated. "We need your help."

Susan chimed in. "We had a little trouble along the way."

"He's been captured... by the White Witch," Penny spoke reluctantly.

"Captured?" Aslan repeated. "How could this happen?"

"He betrayed them, Your Majesty." Mr Beaver told.

"Then he has betrayed us all!" The centaur stood beside Aslan spat.

"Peace, Oreius," Aslan commanded, settling the crowd before they could grow restless. "I'm sure there's an explanation."

Peter looked down, disappointed in himself. "It's my fault, really. I was too hard on him."

Susan laid her hand on his shoulder before looking back at Aslan. "We all were," she admitted, taking her share of the blame.

"Sir, he's our brother." Lucy's words sounded like a plea.

"I know, dear one." His voice softened as he addressed the youngest child. "But that only makes the betrayal all the worse." He shifted his piercing gaze to Peter. "This may be harder than you think."

THE GENTLE WIND TICKLED THE EDGES OF PETER'S HAIR AS HE STOOD ON THE HIGHEST POINT OF THE HILL AND LOOKED OUT OVER NARNIA. Through the valley of rolling hills, a structure glistened in the winter sun. It sat on a cliffside, surrounded by ocean and sand. A peninsula, he had learned in geography class, back when they were still allowed to attend school without the fear of an air raid siren blaring and the Germans dropping bombs.

As he stared out over the campsite and out toward the purple-pink sky, he realised just how much he missed it. Home.

Peter heard the crunch of the grass beneath four paws. "That is Cair Paravel, the castle of the four thrones. In one of which you will sit, Peter, as High King." Aslan peered up at him knowingly. "You doubt the prophecy?"

"No. That's just it." Peter sighed. "Aslan, I'm not what you all think I am."

"Peter Pevensie, formerly of Finchley," Aslan remarked. "Beaver also mentioned you planned on turning him into a hat." They shared a chuckle. "Peter, there is a Deep Magic, more powerful than any of us, that rules over all of Narnia. It defines right from wrong, and governs all our destinies. Yours, and mine." Aslan spoke mysteriously.

"But I couldn't even protect my own family," Peter argued.

Aslan disagreed. "You've brought them, and Penelope, safely this far."

Peter looked back out over the land. "Not all of them."

"Peter, I will do what I can to help your brother," Aslan promised. "But I need you to consider what I ask of you." He observed the various creatures milling around below them. "I, too, want my family safe."

Light footsteps coming up the hill behind them caught Peter's attention. He turned to find Penny, no longer dressed in her English clothes but instead in a long, pink linen dress with golden fabric draped down from her shoulders and a leather belt in which her dual daggers hung ready for use at any given moment. Half of her hair had been pulled into a crown-like braid, the copper strands more vibrant than they had been earlier, now interwoven through the blonde, while the rest fell down her back.

It wasn't the first time Peter had been struck by Penny's beauty, but it was the first time it had made his heart skip a beat.

Aslan tipped his head down an inch as she approached. "Penelope, I see you got my message."

Penny glanced between the boy and the lion. "What did you want to see me about?"

"It is not I who has anything to say, but you, dear Princess," Aslan spoke. "I imagine you have many questions."

Penny hesitated, "The Beavers mentioned a prophecy. It was about the lost Princess of Narnia. They said it tied into another they claimed to be about Peter and his siblings."

"As I was telling Peter, Deep Magic binds Narnia. Its past, present and future." Aslan took a step back, allowing the two halves to stand beside each other. Close but not touching. Not whole. Not yet. "What was predicted by the centaurs centuries ago through the ancient art of star-reading will come to pass. It is the way this world works."

"But what is this prophecy, Aslan? And how is everyone so certain it is about me?" She glanced at Peter. "About us?"

Aslan shook his head, "It is not as simple as just a single prophecy, Princess, but a quintet of intertwining strings threaded together to tell a tale of noble heroes and the lives they are yet to live."

"But if we are the heroes, then shouldn't we be allowed to know?" Peter questioned.

"Some, yes. But not all." Aslan acknowledged. "Peter, Penelope, not all things need to be known. Some must be lived."

"But there is a prophecy, predicting the Princesses' birth and return to Narnia." Penny insisted. "We know about the two sons of Adam and the two daughters of Eve. I can understand how that could be the Pevensies', but I don't understand why people keep staring at me like I'm a miracle they can't believe exists."

"If you truly wish to hear the prediction of the Summer Witch then I will gladly share it, however it is a prophecy of two halves." Aslan stared deep into Penny's ocean eyes. "Are you sure you wish to hear of your fate, Penelope?"

Penny held his gaze. "I do, Aslan."

"In the frozen heart of the land where shadows creep,

Where the ice-bound whispers of death wail and weep,

A child of warmth shall rise from winter's cruel grasp,

In the bleakest of nights, she'll bring forth hope at last.

Born in the depths of the coldest despair,

With hair like the sun and a spirit laid bare,

She'll dance through the meadows where snows used to reign,

And bring forth the blossoms where sorrows remain.

The summer witch, born of fire and gold,

At almost seventeen summers, her tale will unfold.

Golden threads of fate will weave through her heart,

The love for her lost kingdom, never to part.

With the sons of Adam and daughters of Eve,

In unity strong, we shall conquer and cleave."

"You are the Summer Witch Penny. The daughter of Jadis, and you will be the one to restore the light to Narnia after these long winter nights." Aslan spoke with a certainty neither Penny nor Peter had ever heard before.

Penny stepped back. Her head and hands shook as tears welled in her eyes. "No. I cannot be. I cannot have been born from such a wicked woman. I refuse to believe it!"

She turned on her heel and started back down the hillside.

"Penny! Pen!" Peter called, rushing after her.

Halfway down the hill, Penny still wouldn't stop, no matter how many times Peter asked her to stop. She couldn't bear to hear any more about the vile enchantress Aslan had declared to be her mother. Penny didn't have a mother. She was abandoned, not saved. She was a daughter of the Earth, not of Narnia and magic and—

Penny stopped dead in her tracks.

The low blare of Susan's horn filled the air. She had left Susan and Lucy by the river.

As he passed, Peter looked like a blur. "Come on!"

Penny almost lost her footing at the force with which he grabbed her hand in his and pulled her forward. Together they sprinted through Aslan's camp, narrowly avoiding the inhabitants as they raced to the riverbank.

They skidded to a stop by the edge of the water. Two wolves circled the base of the tree that Susan and Lucy had managed to scramble up. They snarled, drool flinging out of the sides of their mouths every time they snapped at Susan's dangling legs.

"Peter!" Lucy screamed.

Peter wasted no time, running through the shallow water and drawing his sword. "Get back!"

"Peter! Watch out!" Susan yelled from above.

One of the wolves tried to pounce, but Aslan intervened, pinning the wolf down with his large paw. Penny gripped the handles of her daggers, but before she could move to help, a hand seized her shoulder. She looked up to find Oreius staring straight ahead at the battle unfolding before them.

"You must stay back," Aslan warned. "This is Peter's battle."

All Penny could do was watch as Peter held his sword out steady in front of him.

"Come on," Maugrim growled. "We've already been through this before. We both know you haven't got it in you."

Peter didn't falter.

"You may think you're a king, but you're going to die like a dog." Maugrim pounced.

A strangled cry left Penny's lips as blood spilt out onto the grass below the wolf and the boy. No longer caring for Aslan's words, Penny lurched forward. She hardly felt the cold water hitting her legs, only one word whirling around her mind—Peter.

Susan and Lucy dropped down from the tree, reaching him in tandem with Penny. Penny's eyes checked Peter for bitemarks as she helped Susan roll Maugrim's corpse away from his motionless body. Peter gasped, taking large gulps of air as his eyes settled on the frightened faces of the three girls beside him.

His arms wrapped around his sisters as they threw themselves onto him and buried their faces into his neck. He caught Penny's eye from over their shoulders, and they shared a look of fear, relief and longing.

Aslan released the other wolf from beneath his paw. "After him." He commanded Oreius and his troops. "He'll lead you to Edmund."

The Pevensies watched them run into the woods, a flicker of hope burning inside at the thought of getting Edmund back.

"Peter." Aslan caught their attention. "Clean your sword."

Once the blade was wiped clean of the wolf's blood, Aslan commanded Peter to kneel before him. He placed his paw on Peter's shoulder, "Rise, Sir Peter Wolfsbane, Knight of Narnia."

Peter looked at the girls in shock, but a smile quickly spread across his face. The sunlight behind him turned his hair into a golden halo, and his eyes shone bright with pride. It felt strange, Penny thought. The tugging sensation inside of her, like a red ribbon of fate tied them together in ways beyond compression or understanding.

Years later, when reflecting on their long-awaited romance to their loyal subjects, Penny would cite it as the moment she fell in love with Peter Pevensie.

...But she didn't know that yet.

She never minded not knowing simply because she had never known anything different.

The facts of how Penelope came to be Professor Kirke's ward:

On September 19th, 1928, Diggory Kirke was walking home after a lunchtime meeting with an old friend. He decided to take the scenic route that day (though most would argue that any walk in the sprawling English countryside was the 'scenic route') and came across a young girl, no more than four, sitting inside a circle of mushrooms in a field of poppies beneath a twisted oak tree.

He immediately called a friend who he knew worked in child services, and she arrived shortly after, alongside the appropriate authorities. After many weeks of canvasing the local areas, neither the police nor child services found anybody willing to come forward and claim the beautiful blonde babe as their own.

Another week later, Diggory officially filed the papers granting the child his ward, naming her Penelope Lovelace after the poppy field and the frilly lace dress she was found in.

Almost thirteen years later, Penelope still lived at Kirke manor with her Uncle Diggory, and while she knew everybody in the nearby villages all found her a little odd, she liked the young woman she was growing into. A proper lady who would soon enter proper society—as soon as the war was over that is.

AT THREE O'CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON, Penelope was already exhausted. Such as every typical morning, Penny had been up at seven to start her chores—sweeping, polishing, dusting, mopping and she even helped Mrs Macready with the laundry. Then, in the brief fifteen minutes she had until her lessons with the professor began, she continued to work on the patchwork cardigan she was knitting for when the winter months finally came.

From nine until lunch, she studied multiple subjects with the professor, including, but not limited to: poetry, biology, mathematics, physics, Latin, mythology, past historical events, and current historical events (she read the newspaper to him whilst he drank his tea and ate a sandwich). After their lessons, she joined Mrs Macready in the kitchen for lunch before going into the games room and completing the jigsaw puzzle she had begun the night before.

With still an hour left before her allotted reading time, Penny sat on the bench outside with the guitar her uncle had bought her as an early birthday present. In return, she had taken to learning his favourite song. However, it was a lot more difficult than she had anticipated, and with hideously deep indentations on her fingers from the strings, Penny ended her lesson half an hour early.

As soon as she returned to her room, Penny kicked off her favourite Mary Janes and crawled onto her queen-sized bed. Her fingers tingled with anticipation as she picked the book up off the nightstand and opened it to where she had last left off. This was not a new book; in fact, it was rather old, with the binding falling apart and the pages torn along the edges with how often she had read it.

'Invisible String' by Allison Taylor was the best book Penelope had ever read. It was also the first book she could recall reading all by herself, captivated by the story into the late hours of the night. The book was about a romance torn apart by fate and followed the characters Lilibet and Jameson through their many lives together. Penny had always considered the idea of soulmates romantic, but the way the book described Betty and James as star-crossed lovers destined to meet in every lifetime made Penny's heart flutter.

There was a loud knock on the door, and Mrs Macready entered the room. "Penelope, the professor would like to see you."

Penny looked out over the top of the book to see the bottom of Mrs Macready's legs. She quickly twisted around and sat up straight, her cheeks flushed red from the blood rushing to her head. "Whatever for?"

Mrs Macready glanced at the freshly painted scene Penny had added to her overcrowded bedroom walls yesterday afternoon. "I believe it would be best for him to explain." She said cryptically.

Penny frowned and clambered off her bed, sticking her socked feet inside the brand new pair of slippers Mrs Macready had purchased for her from the market last month. The walk across the manor to her uncle's office wasn't as long as it had felt when she was a child, but Penny supposed that was because she had grown used to it.

She knocked twice before entering, "You wanted to see me, Uncle?"

"Yes, I did. Take a seat." Diggory waved her further in. "As you know, there is a war going on. Very nasty business, and with that business, there have been some changes within the government."

Penny nodded. "I know, Uncle. I was just reading the paper to you this morning."

"As such, one of these changes was a scheme known as Operation Pied Piper. It was started in September 1939, just before the war had begun." Diggory explained.

"And what does this Operation Pied Piper do?" Penny asked.

"It involves moving civilians, primarily children, from the larger cities to safer rural locations to protect them from any potential bombings. Too many young people have died from this war, my dear girl, either on the frontlines or as collateral to Adolf Hitler's mad tirade upon our country." The professor stricked a match and slowly lit the tobacco inside his pipe alight. "The government has been canvasing the countryside for a while now, looking for as many people to put up children as possible. I wrote down my name as a willing candidate, and the application was approved this afternoon."

"I'm sorry. Are you saying that there will be children living here?" Penny felt the knot in her stomach growing. "No! No, we can't. You can't."

Diggory inhaled a puff of his pipe. "Why not, my dear?"

"Because they are strangers, and they will be living in our house, in our space." Penny was growing frantic. "We don't know these children; they could be awfully behaved, and they could run amok all over the grounds, and you know who will have to deal with it? Me! And poor Mrs Macready, she hardly likes me, and I've lived here for over twelve years!"

Diggory leaned forward in his chair and placed his wrinkled hand over hers. He hated how she worked herself up into these states. "Penelope, all will be fine," he handed her a file. "Here, take a look at this."

Penny slid the file closer to her, willing the tears pricking her waterline to not fall. "What is this?"

"It is a document about the children the government has chosen to live with us."

Penny opened the folder and scanned her eyes over the page. Her shoulders sagged a little in relief when she saw the ages of the children—sixteen, fourteen, twelve and nine.

Diggory noticed the change in her demeanour. "Not as bad as you thought?"

"The nine and twelve-year-olds may still prove a problem." Penny begrudged. "But we can hope that the older two shall be able to rein them in a little."

"These children have lost their home. They have potentially even lost one or  more of their relatives to this war. We must do our best to treat them with kindness. Don't you agree?"

Penny sucked in a calming breath. "Yes, Uncle, I do." She stood up from her seat and made her way to the open door. "I shall help Mrs Macready set up the bedrooms for them, and in the morning, I will help her prepare the horse and cart for travel."

"Thank you, my dear," Diggory said. "I'm sure you will find something to like about these children over the coming weeks."

Penny could only hope.

SUCH AS EVERY TYPICAL MORNING, Penny was up at seven to start on her chores, but today wasn't a typical day; it was completely different. Penny found that different could be good, it didn't always mean something was bad or scary. Take her, for instance. She had always been privy to the words said about her by the local townspeople, even when her Uncle Diggory tried to protect her from them.

"She is so strange."

"Very odd."

"What is she wearing? Did she make that herself?"

"Look at her hands, so mucky!"

"She'll never find a husband."

Penny had to admit the last comment always hurt the most. Her entire life, she had wanted nothing more than to love and to be loved in return.

The distant crack of a whip called Penny's attention back to the window. Coming up the winding road was Mrs Macready with the horse and carriage and four children sitting in the back. She couldn't see their faces from where she was, but from a distance, they didn't look scary or bad, so that had to count for something.

Penny snuck onto the balcony overlooking the entrance hall as the carriage stopped outside the front doors. She pinned back her long hair and tucked herself into a small ball in the darkest corner, wrapping her hands around the aged wooden baluster to get a better look.

The Pevensie's, she recalled her uncle telling her this morning, certainly didn't look like miscreants, though Penny held out the right to change her mind. The eldest, Peter, was tall, blonde and if Penny was being honest, he reminded her of the first boy she had ever had a crush on. (He also reminded her of Allison Taylor's description of Jameson, but she pushed that thought far from her mind). The other boy, Edmund, had much darker brown hair, which matched his sisters, and from her view of the entrance hall, Penny could just make out his dimples. Little Lucy was as cute as a button, the older women around the village would say, and Susan, with her perfectly styled hair, looked more graceful than Penny had ever felt in her entire life.

The Pevensie siblings looked around the hall in awe as they followed Mrs Macredy up the stairway.

"Professor Kirke is not accustomed to havin' more than one child in this house. And, as such, there are a few rules we need to follow." Penny rolled her eyes at Mrs Macready's speech. "There will be no shoutin'. Or runnin'. No improper use of the dumbwaiter."

As they passed the statue bust, Susan held her hand out to touch it. Penny winced, already anticipating Mrs Macready's yell.

"No touchin' of the historical artefacts!" Mrs Macredy scolded the older girl, causing her brothers to snicker. "And above all, there shall be no disturbin' of the professor."

"Mrs Macready?" Susan hesitated in her words. "You said the professor isn't used to having more than one child here. Is there someone else we aren't aware of?"

Mrs Macready looked up at the corner of the balcony she knew Penny was hiding in. "Her name is Penelope. She is around your age, boy," she pointed towards Peter. "And she is Professor Kirke's ward."

Lucy gasped happily and wrapped her small fingers around Peter's hand. "Maybe we can make a new friend whilst we're here!"

"I highly doubt you will even see Penelope durin' your stay here." Mrs Macready told the young girl. "She knows all the secret shortcuts and she wasn't best thrilled when she found out that there would be four people she doesn't know runnin' around her home."

"But Mrs Macready, she doesn't even know us." Peter reasoned.

"Exactly my point, boy. She doesn't know you, and I doubt she cares to."

Lucy lingered in the doorway as the others walked further into the manor. She glanced back at the entrance hall, taking in the dark wooden motifs and the sense of magic that any little girl would find in a place like this. Lucy gasped, her heart skipping a beat, at the pale hands grasping the bannister looking over her. Realising the girl was looking right at her, Penny snatched her hands back and rocked herself out of view, the floorboards creaking beneath her weight. Hearing this, Lucy jumped into action and ran through the winding hallways to find her eldest brother.

Before long, night fell, and the day had faded much faster than it usually would. Penny hadn't seen any of the Pevensie children since they first arrived, and she wasn't sure whether she was relieved or disappointed. Penny stood up from her bed, slipping on her slippers and her dressing gown. Every night before bed, she would sneak down to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk. She was pretty sure Mrs Macready had known of this routine for a while, but Penny liked to believe otherwise.

Penny made her way through the upper hallways and down the stairs. After years of sneaking around, she had learned which floorboards to avoid. As she passed by the door to one of the sitting rooms, she noticed it was cracked open, and that the room was lit orange. She walked back to the door and rested her ear against it to hear the quiet whirring of the radio.

"German aircraft carried out a number of attacks on Great Britain last night." The man on the radio droned on. "The raids, which lasted for several hours..."

Assuming it was her uncle taking up his habit of having a glass of whisky and listening to the news, Penny opened the door and walked inside. She stopped in her tracks when she saw a blond boy her age and tugged at the sides of her dressing gown to hide the thin nightgown underneath.

"I'm sorry." Penny apologised, tying the pink ribbon around her waist into a loose bow. "When I heard the radio, I thought it would be my uncle in here."

"No, it's fine," the boy quickly stood up from the leather chair he had occupied. "I'm Peter."

"I know." Penny blurted out before thinking. "I mean, I don't know. I mean, the professor has this piece of paper from the government and it has all your names and ages and where you're from on it. He showed it to me so I would know who would be coming to stay with us."

Peter laughed. "Makes sense. Mrs Macready told us a little about you when we arrived."

"I know that too. I was hiding on the balcony." Penny confessed, her cheeks flushing a light pink.

"Why were you hiding?" He asked.

She shrugged. "Stranger danger?"

Peter bit his lip to stop himself from smiling too wide. "How about we start over?" He held out his hand toward her. "Peter Pevensie."

She slipped her hand into his. "Penelope Lovelace."

"It's nice to meet you, Penny."

"It's nice to meet you too, Peter."

Slowly, their hands fell apart, and they stood awkwardly for a moment.

"What are you listening to?" Penny motioned to the radio behind him.

"The news about the war. My sisters didn't like me listening to it before they went to bed." Peter sat back down in the chair beside the radio and switched it off again.

Penny copied his movement and sat on the chair opposite him, appreciating the sound of the crackling firewood as it burned. "Do you know of anybody in the war?"

Peter nodded solemnly, watching the orange of the firelight flicker across the side of Penny's face. "My father." He said. "He was drafted almost instantly. It's been just us and our mom since."

"Is he..." Penny trailed off uncomfortably. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked that."

"No, he's alive." Peter cut her off before she could apologise any further. "The last we heard anyway. Our mother promised to keep us updated in her letters."

Penny looked away from the fire to find Peter already staring at her. "I'm sorry. It must be awful knowing he's out there."

"If he dies, it's for our country, and as long as we win the war, I think I could live with that." Peter spoke honestly. He hadn't admitted that to anyone before. How could he when his mother and siblings were so set that he was coming back? "How about you? Do you have any family outside of the professor?"

"No, it's just us out here. My parents abandoned me as a child, but the professor was kind enough to take me in as his ward and raise me as part of his family." Penny had never told anyone that before. Most people in the surrounding villages knew her story, and many her age made fun of her for it.

"How old were you when the professor took you in?" Peter asked.

Penny thought about it for a moment. "According to the doctor, I had just turned four."

"That's awful." He tutted. "How could anybody abandon their child?"

"Trust me, I've been trying to work that out my entire life, and I still haven't reached an answer." Penny chuckled humourlessly. "But it isn't all bad. I wouldn't trade the life the professor has given me for anything."

Except maybe friends, Penny thought, but she didn't dare say it out loud.

The old grandfather clock struck ten o'clock, and a sudden tiredness hit Penny as she tried to stifle a yawn behind her hand.

Peter chuckled. "Tired?"

"Very." Penny nodded sleepily. "We should both get to bed, I'm sure you'll have a full day of wrangling your siblings tomorrow, and I have early morning lessons with the professor."

Peter turned to her with a look of shock. "You don't go to school?"

"No, I've been homeschooled my whole life." Penny told him. "Where do you go?"

"Hendon House, it's a boarding school in London. My sisters go to Saint Finbar's nearby." Peter explained.

"Interesting." Penny mused as she walked to the door. "Well, I suppose I'll see you around the manor."

They stepped into the hallway together.

"Goodnight, Penny."

"Goodnight, Peter."

Perhaps having other people staying here wouldn't be as bad as Penny thought.

Clumps of moss flew out from beneath his hooves as he ran, and he willed his short legs to go even faster. The leather satchel smacked against his body in beat with his heart, a constant reminder of the promise he still had to keep.

Bane saw the waning firelight between the trees and knew he had reached Aslan's camp. There were few people around, but as the young centaur rushed into the centre of the camp, many more flocked from their tents.

"I need to speak with Aslan!" Bane cried with great urgency.

The fauns, fairies and many more broke into quiet whispers, which were carried by the wind and delivered to the trees.

The great lion pushed through the flap of his tent on the hill. "What is it, dear boy?" He approached.

"Our camp... it was a-attacked." Bane spluttered out between uneven breaths.

Aslan's eyes widened. "By Jadis?"

Firenze, Aslan's right hand, stepped out from the shadows. "By the fools who follow her."

Bane nodded before bowing to the great lion and his centaur warrior. Growing up he had heard the stories of the horse-man close to Aslan, but he had never found himself worthy enough to be in his presence.

"How many of your camp fell?" Aslan asked.

Bane's head fell even lower, his chin hitting his chest as a tear rolled down his cheek. "I am the only one left."

Aslan and Firenze shared a sorrowful glance. "Firenze take the boy to your camp, I am sure there are many who would offer to house such a brave young man."

"But sir," Bane interrupted. "Before I leave, I must tell you of the prophecy."

"Prophecy?" Firenze repeated.

"Our leader, Ronan, read the stars himself. He sacrificed himself so that I could escape." Bane thought back to the moment Ronan fell, the cry of pain that left his body as the long sword entered it, and how he screamed at him to run and not look back.

Aslan stepped forward, his large eyes meeting the young centaur's. "What does the prophecy say, dear boy?"

"In the frozen heart of the land where shadows creep, where the ice-bound whispers of death wail and weep. A child of warmth shall rise from winter's cruel grasp, in the bleakest of nights, she'll bring forth hope at last. Born in the depths of the coldest despair, with hair like the sun and a spirit laid bare. She'll dance through the meadows where snows used to reign, and bring forth the blossoms where sorrows remain." Bane recited. "There is more. However, Ronan had not finished interpreting the maps."

"Where are these maps?" Firenze asked.

Bane pulled the satchel off his shoulder and handed it to Firenze. "It's all in there for you to complete the translation, Ronan ensured it."

Firenze stretched the maps out before him and looked down at Aslan curiously. "What does this mean, sire?"

Aslan glanced through the forest at the rising sun. "That the child of summer will soon be born."

A CHILD OF WARMTH discovered by centaur ronan in 895 translated by centaur ronan & centaur firenze

❝ In the frozen heart of the land where shadows creep, Where the ice-bound whispers of death wail and weep, A child of warmth shall rise from winter's cruel grasp, In the bleakest of nights, she'll bring forth hope at last.

Born in the depths of the coldest despair, With hair like the sun and a spirit laid bare, She'll dance through the meadows where snows used to reign, And bring forth the blossoms where sorrows remain.

"Beware the winter's heart," the ancients will say, "For the summer witch rises to melt it away." So gather the brave from each valley and hill, For the time of the summer shall come, and it will Awaken all the creatures, both great and the small, To stand as one strong, lest the darkness enthral.

In the twilight of winter, when days grow dim, The summer witch, radiant, will find her grand hymn. With courage ignited, she'll shatter the night, And the reign of the white witch shall fade from the light. ❞

THE SUMMER WITCH discovered by centaur chiron in 899 translated by centaur bane & centaur magorian

❝ The summer witch, born of fire and gold, At almost seventeen summers, her tale will unfold. Golden threads of fate will weave through her heart, The love for her lost kingdom, never to part.

Through thickets of thorns and the whispers of frost, She'll rally the brave lest the light become lost. With hands that bring warmth and a voice like a song, She'll gather the kinship of those who stand strong.

With the sons of Adam and daughters of Eve, In unity strong, we shall conquer and cleave. From Aslan's command to the edge of the fight, Together, they'll rise and restore the lost light.

The beasts of the forest and fae of the glade, Will heed her warm call and forget the dread shade. For when courage ignites, and the summer winds blow, The tides shall turn fast in the clash with the foe.

So heed well this warning, from valleys to heights, The summer witch comes to reclaim the lost nights. With courage and warmth, let the creatures unite, For the dawn of the summer shall banish the night. ❞