The evening was positively magical. Each song would touch my heart in a new way, and I found myself humming the tunes as Mr. Beaver walked me to the lamp post the next day.

Once we got there, I repeated the prophecy to Mr. Beaver. "She who bears the mark from the tree, though lonely she shall one day be, will journey farther to save them all, after she helps to bring about the fall."

As I spoke the words Mr. Beaver had heard in his dream, I felt energy course through my veins. It was about me! I had my own prophecy! He grinned at me.

"That's the one!" He squeezed my hand reassuringly. "Well, there's the lamp post..."

I knelt down to meet his eye level, and embraced his little beaver body. "Thank you for everything, Mr. Beaver. I'll bring the boys here soon."

"I know you will," he said. "But, remember, time passes faster here than where you come from. It could be several years here before you bring them."

"I shall hurry," I promised. With one last wave over my shoulder, I ran through the tree branches and back into the wardrobe.

Careful not to make a sound, I slowly opened the door, and stepped out one foot at a time. I crossed the room silently and stepped out into the hallway. No one stirred, so I hurried back to my room. I changed out of my damp clothes and climbed into my bed. My eyelids were heavy, but though I obeyed the urge to close my eyes, sleep would not come to me. The words of the prophecy repeated endlessly in my head, causing the same rush of energy each time; it felt like the same rush I felt when Aslan spoke to me.

The only clear part was the mark of the tree. That was my cut from the tree. I got out of bed and held the vial Mrs. Beaver had sent with me. The liquid inside was clear, and she said it would help it heal more quickly. I took the cap off and poured a small amount into my hand. When I rubbed it on my left calf, it burned so violently I nearly screamed.

​​​Using every ounce of self-control I had, I set the vial down gently and put the cap on before flopping down on my bed and muffling the scream with a pillow. The stinging pain lasted only about two minutes, and by the time it finally faded away, I was exhausted. I gladly climbed back into my covers and shut my eyes. Sleep came quickly, and I slept like a rock, until the nightmares came.

It was dark... unnaturally dark. Glancing up at the sky, I saw that the moon and stars were obscured by thick clouds. Looking around me, I was in the middle of a military camp. I heard a low moaning sound in the distance. Planes!

I wanted to run, but my legs were frozen in place. I could only move my head, regardless of how violently I thrashed around. One by one, the men around me awoke from their slumber as the droning grew louder. The man next to me jerked awake, breathing hard.

"Linda! My children! Ruth..." I studied the man's face as it contorted in grief. It was my father! I tried to call out his name, but it was drowned out by the man on the other side of me.

"What is the matter, Phillip?" he asked gently.

"I had the worst nightmare. London was bombed, and my family perished. Everyone but my eldest daughter."

​​​​​"Fear not. It was only a dream. God will protect them."

"They do not know God. Not the way I now do, anyway," he said miserably, shuddering. He blinked and looked at the sky. "Is that... are those...?"

"​​​​Yes," my father's friend said gravely. "Those are German planes."

​​Yanking a compass from his pocket, my father strained to see what it said. He gulped.

"They are going in the direction of London. Father, save my fa-"

His cry was interrupted by a sharp crack. My vision faded to black as the bomb fell from the sky.

When I woke up, my room was dark as night. When a clap of thunder informed me that it was only raining, a lingering feeling of icy fear crept down my spine. After a minute spent trying to calm my breathing and tell myself it was only a dream, I got out of bed. Choosing the light grey dress that reached my ankles and would cover the scar, I brushed my hair, put on my beanie, and walked out to the kitchen.

"Good morning, Mrs. Macready!" I chirped.

"Good morning, Ruth! Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," I lied. "You?"

"I did, thank you," she lied right back.

I had just sat down at the table when the door swung open, and Lucy poked her head through. Her eyes were still droopy, but she smiled when she saw me.

"Good morning, Lucy," I cooed. I patted my thighs. "Come here, you can sit on my lap, if you want." She complied silently, and rested the back of her head against my shoulder.

"Is Peter awake yet?" she asked, yawning slightly. "He promised me we would play outside when he got up."

"No, he isn't up yet. But it's raining this morning, Lu. Maybe we can play outside later, if the rain stops."

"Okay." Another loud clap of thunder shook the house. Lucy jumped, but soon giggled. "I bet they'll be awake soon, now."

"Yes, they will," I agreed with a smile. Surely enough, Edmund and Peter came through the door first. Peter was dressed, wearing a blue shirt that really brought out his eyes, but Edmund was still in green pinstripe pajamas.

"Morning, girls!" Peter greeted, sitting down across from us. Edmund quietly took the seat next to me.

"Morning, boys! How was that thunderclap?"

"Oh, I was awake, but it helped Ed get up!"

I laughed. "I imagine that it would." Lucy wriggled out of my lap and went to go sit on Peter's. He smiled at me and turned his attention to his sister.

"I suppose we will have to wait a little bit before we play outside, Lucy," he said apologetically.

​​​​She nodded. "I wouldn't want to play out there anyway."

"Sounds like a day full of hide-and-seek!" I exclaimed. Lucy's face lit up with a grin. I turned to face the quiet Edmund. "Do you like playing hide-and-seek, Edmund?"

He smiled slightly. "Definitely. When we were younger, my father would play with us on rainy days. I always hid in the same place, but he never found me." His smile faltered, and he looked down quickly.

"Do you miss your father?" I asked gently, rubbing his shoulder.

He nodded sullenly. I kept rubbing his shoulder, and launched into a funny story about the time I was playing hide-and-seek with my friend, Anna. My brother had clained to know where she was, so he led me in circles all around the house until I realized where she really was.

"Where was she?" Ed asked, glancing up from his moody pout.

"She was hiding in Michael's bed! That was the deal they had made. He led me as far away from there as possible!"

​​​​"Sounds like something you'd do, Ed," Peter teased.

"It was quite clever," I said, attempting to alleviate any possible tension between the brothers. Susan came in the door then, and her presence was a nice shift. She was naturally chatty, and before long, breakfast had been served and we were talking about what we were learning in school. When breakfast was over, the tournament began.

🦁

Susan volunteered to count first. Edmund and Lucy darted off in one direction, so Peter and I exchanged a quick glance and ran the other way.

"We can hide in the room next to mine," I said softly once we were out of earshot.

"Sounds good." I pushed the door open, careful to close it slowly and carefully. There was a desk in the back corner of the room that I had failed to notice the first time I peeked in. There were panels that slid aside to reveal a space just big enough for the two of us. I slid in first, at his silent gesture, and he slid in next to me and closed the panel.

We sat in slience for a few minutes, before he dared a whisper. "Well, there is no way that she could hear us."

I nodded. "Lucy asked about you as soon as she got up this morning," I whispered. I could almost feel the energy from his smile in the tight confinement of the cabinet. "She wanted to play outside with you."

"Your hide-and-seek idea was brilliant," he said. "I haven't seen Edmund smile in a long time. At least before Father left."

"How long ago was that?"

"About two months ago. When did your father leave?"

"He left about then, too. We got letters from him every Tuesday."

"We received letters from our fa-" he started to say before the door opened. Soft footsteps were heard as Susan toured the room. She moved systematically: she took a few steps, looked up and down, took a few more, and so forth and so on.

Peter and I exchanged a curious look. I dared to lean forward so I could see through the crack between the panel and the desk. I nearly screamed when I saw an unfamiliar woman walking around the room. He touched my arm lightly. I turned to face his concerned blue eyes as I struggled to breathe normally.

"It's just a maid," I whispered, feeling my face heat in embarrassment. He chuckled silently, a relieved grin spreading across his face. I smiled too, and eased back into my hiding space. The maid left shortly, but we didn't strike up another conversation. Lucy's cries of "I'm back! It's alright! I'm back!" drew us rapidly from our hiding spot.