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WALKING IN THE WIND
iii. DAWN TREADER

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  WITH THE PLETHORA OF wars over at long last — with the Telmarines, the fairies, the Giants, and even the imaginary pirates — peace peppered the resilient kingdom of Narnia.

  The Narnians should have been wearier. Perhaps they were. But with each battle and glorious victory under their valiant rulers' crowns, the kingdom was reborn stronger and stronger. It could not have been done without Hope's wit, Caspian's vigor, or Odette's razor sharp resolve.

  Where did the time go? The months flew with the wind, brisk and fleeting. Every time Hope thought she'd finally found her footing, something else tilted the ground she ruled upon. Something was always on the rise, someone was always in need of aid. But a funny (and maybe even masochistic) part of her reveled in all of that chaos that ruling ensued.

  There were always summons to answer, letters to write, battles to conquer. She liked feeling useful. She liked the fast pace of it all. In a strange way, it was almost as demanding as her handmaid days.

  Perhaps this was what Aslan meant when she had much to learn from Narnia. Finally, she was allowing herself to believe that this was where she was meant to be. All the wars and treason and threats of beheading were worth every minute because they brought her here, to Narnia. Home. She would greedily accept every adventure and sunrise Narnia gave her if she could manage to carry them in her simple human hands.

  This was where seh was meant to be all along, whether in a castle or quaint village or in a burrow with rabbits for neighbors. Not Wysteria. Not London. Narnia.

  And that was what she told Caspian whenever he begged her to accompany him on his many voyages over sea.

  Some of his trips lasted weeks, others a month — never long enough for the seasons to pass in its entirety. Once the Narnians conquered the Northern Giants in their rebellion against the new crowns, Caspian didn't let himself rest for more than a day before returning to his ships (which were steadily growing larger and larger). The tides called to the seafarer more than anything he'd ever known. If living on land in Narnia was where Hope was meant to be, then Caspian belonged to the kingdom of salt and water.

  That left Odette somewhere in the middle.

  Between the three of them, Odette struggled the most in deciding where she truly belonged. Her regrets were anchored to Wysteria, her crown tied her to Narnia, but her heart was beginning to crave adventure. All those years she spent holed up behind castle walls were escaping her. Traveling on behalf of Narnia to redeem their relationships with the neighboring kingdoms was what made her realize this. Very little seemed to satiate that itch — nothing except for traveling alongside Caspian across the sea.

  And Lion's Mane, she loved it.

  "It's the most unbelievable feeling," Odette said one evening. She wandered ahead of her fellow monarchs, hopping along the cobblestone leading toward the docks. "It's not quite like running. But I can't imagine it's anything like flying either. It's like... like gliding! Not like our constrained voyages to and from Wysteria. I never knew how fast and far the sails can take you! And the farther you sail, the bluer the waters become. Even the sun is brighter toward the east! You know, Caspian and I have bets on what lies at the end of the world."

  With his arm linked with Hope's, Caspian's eyes sparkled with a wistful gleam. "At Utter East, I believe we'll find Aslan's Country waiting for us," he said. "Perhaps our parents will greet us there."

  A sinking, twisting feeling surprised Hope. "I'd like to think they're at peace with Aslan. I would hate to imagine they've spent their afterlives just... waiting for us."

  Odette spun, walking backwards. The evening breeze was warm, blowing her golden mane into her face. "That's why I think when we reach the end of the world, we'll sail straight into the sun!"

  Hope laughed. "The sun?"

  "The sun rises in the east and sets in the west, dummy! You taught me that!" Odette said. She extended a hand, pointing a wagging finger at Caspian. "Isn't that where you thought of your ship's glorious name? The Dawn Treader. Now, that's a powerful name!"

  With a soft smile, Hope said, "Clever."

  She tipped her head back as they approached the famous vessel at the end of the dock. The Dawn Treader bobbed quietly in the shifting waters. Its construction was finally finished, with a dragon's head and tail at their respective ends of the ship. It was one of Narnia's most glorious ships of this generation. Perhaps one of the greatest in Narnia's history.

  As mentioned before, with the wars over, the time had come for a dryad to deliver Aslan's call to Caspian.

  The call came just four days ago. For one year and one day, King Caspian X would sail the Greater Eastern Ocean in pursuit of the Seven Lost Lords of Telmar and chart the seas. And maybe find the end of the world while they were out there anyway.

  Caspian had his pick of who to bring along as his crew, like Odette and Captain Drinian, who had joined Caspian on his voyages from the beginning and was one of the few Telmarines alive who loved the sea. But no matter how much he begged, Hope refused to join them.

  "I'll miss you both when you set sail," Hope added. "I'll miss you both very much when you set sail. Do you think the end of the world will have some sort of mailing system in place? I'd like to write to you both, but I haven't the faintest idea of where to send my letters."

  "You wouldn't have to write to us if you simply joined us," Caspian said. "Really, you would bear no use for pens or envelopes or even your silly books if you joined us."

  Hope narrowed her eyes at him. "I like my silly books. It isn't my fault Edmund and I are the last literate people to rule," she said. She gazed back up at the ship. "She's beautiful. I'll give you that."

  "But, Hope, you would love it!" Odette whined for what must've been the umpteenth time. "The fresh air, the open skies, the endless sea—"

  "The sea serpents, the riptides, the tsunamis, the storms, the sharks, the evil mermaids, the piranhas," Hope interrupted. "I would very much enjoy drowning to death more than anything in the world."

  Odette paused, spitting out a strand of hair in her mouth. "Alright, I'm relatively confident there won't be piranhas."

  "What about the rest?"

  "Well... Um... That's... That's a great question! Uh, Cas?"

  "I don't believe this!" Caspian burst. He tugged Hope closer to the edge of the dock and gestured to the night sky, the sleeping sea. Such a beautiful, infinite blanket of midnight that went on and on, blurring at the edges until sky and sea became one. "Once upon a time, there was a tiny, poisoned island, where a little girl read stories about all of the magic in the world. That little girl grew up to win battles, befriend Aslan, and ride into war with an army of trees! Lion's Mane, the day I met that girl, she punched me in the face!"

  In all of the days that encompassed Hope's maturity, it brought her the most relief that she could reflect upon these memories with a giggle. "What's your point, Cas?" Hope asked.

  "That girl should be leaping to her feet and counting down the days until her next adventure!" Caspian exclaimed.

  "I am!" Hope defended, less confidently. She gripped the balcony railing, her knuckles paling. "I would simply prefer that adventure to occur on land. Is having a preference such a crime?"

  "Only when it stunts your ability to live and grow," Caspian replied. "You are supposed to be Queen Hope the Bright. Our guiding star. Not Queen Hope the Complacent."

  Hope rolled her eyes. "I don't even know how to swim, Cas. You're asking me to trap myself on all sides by something I'm beyond terrified of for a year and a day, and you're surprised that I don't want to go."

  "What's the other reason you don't want to go?"

  Hope hesitated. "What do you mean?"

  "I know you, Hope. I know you loathe the sea," Caspian said, "but I also know that you want to live in your own adventure book more than anyone I've ever known. Surely, there's another reason you're so adamant on staying here." He joined her side, placing a hand on her shoulder as he admired the void beyond with her. "It's the Pevensies, isn't it?"

  Hope flinched. "That's not the reason—"

  "Of course, it is," Odette said, with a gentle cadence.

  For all we know, the Pevensies have long forgotten about us, Hope thought, but she didn't say that aloud. Why, she didn't know.

  "I miss them, too," Odette said. "But it's been two years since they left. The last time they left, 1,000 years passed in Narnia before they returned. I hate to bring the idea to our attention, but how do we know it won't take another thousand years until then?" She stepped to Hope's other side. "I would give anything to see Susan again. But we don't have the luxury of waiting, my love. The clock is destined to tick. We have people to please, a kingdom to rule, history to make."

  "What if...?" Hope sighed. She picked at a loose thread on her gown. "What if they come back, though? What if they come back, and we're not here because we're chasing your father's advisors?"

  "What if they don't?" Odette whispered. "It's as you said. I am certain Edmund, especially, would hate to imagine you've spent your life waiting for him instead of living."

  That did sound like Edmund. There wasn't a day that passed when her husband's parting words didn't cross her mind. Don't let anyone make you feel small. Continue to be bold and brave, my Queen.

  It was like he knew she would get too comfortable with what she had and wouldn't want to risk losing that. Aslan knew how easily everything in her life tended to change.

  But then she thought of her father, and she couldn't shake the feeling that mortals, or at least humans, were not meant to cross the sea.

  So, what then? At the end of the day, Caspian and Odette were going to leave — with her or without her. That could be the last time she saw them. Was her comfort worth more to her than her friends, her people?

  Hope always wondered what she would do if she had a chance to go back in time, to the day her father set foot on the ship he would later die on. Would she ask him to stay? To abandon his duties as Captain of Wysteria's Royal Guard?

  Or would she simply beg to go with him, out of respect for his duties, to honor the time they had left together?

  Was it better to tempt fate or let history run its course? After all, if he never left, she never would've wound up where she was today.

  Hope stepped away from the pair and cleared her throat. "When do you leave?"

  "In five days," said Caspian.

  "Then, you will have my answer in five days." And she left before either could argue with her on the topic any longer.

○ ○ ○

  When Edmund Pevensie was a boy, he figured he would probably grow out of feeling so miserable all the time.

  To be fair, for a while, he did. But once upon a time, he left Narnia (not by his choice, mind you), his parents and eldest siblings went to America to have adventures of their own, and he and his little sister were shipped off to Cambridge to live with the Scrubbs. It only took one day of living with Aunt Alberta, Uncle Harold, and their cousin, Eustace, before he returned to feeling completely, irrevocably miserable.

  Maybe he was simply destined for misery for all his stupid life.

  At least until he was in Narnia again. Or reunited with his wife. Whichever one came first.

  For someone so miserable, he was oddly optimistic that he would find Hope somewhere in England. The rational side of him knew she was in Narnia (in fact, he heard Aslan tell her and Odette that they had more they needed to learn from Narnia). But ever since he discovered they were in London for a period of time without him ever knowing, he was convinced he might run into them.

  Maybe this wasn't misery. Maybe this was simply delusion.

  It was becoming a horrible habit of Edmund's, looking for Hope everywhere he went.

  In lines at the grocery store. In the autumnal trees, as their shades burned a brighter orange. In the sunsets that crept through the window of the bedroom he shared with Eustace. In the art on display in the city. In the song of the winds. In the fragrance of the spring daffodils. In the stars in the night sky. He searched for every piece he could find of her, hoping that if he put them together, she might magically appear before him, and they could run away from the Scrubbs and be happy together.

  Of course, he would never say this out loud to Lucy, no matter how much she wanted him to. It was too strange. She was his baby sister, not his diary!

  Not that he had a diary. But if he did—

  Anyway.

  Edmund was searching for her again. To be honest, he felt like a stalker, the way he was following this poor girl all because she happened to have bright red hair. He didn't mean to do it either! All he knew was that one minute he was shopping for the groceries with his sister, and the next, he was wandering outside in pursuit of this girl that (from behind, at least) resembled that perfect girl he missed so dearly.

  "Edmund... Edmund!"

  Edmund flinched as Lucy appeared before him, seemingly out of nowhere. Her eyebrows were furrowed, lips in an almost permanent pout. She was balancing a crate on her hip, waiting for him to respond to her.

  When he didn't, Lucy chastised him, "You're supposed to be helping me with the groceries."

  At the sound of Lucy's voice, the redheaded girl turned, curious, and revealed that she was nothing close to who Edmund was hoping for. She didn't spare more than a few seconds of her attention on them before turning and heading off. With a sigh, Edmund took the crate of groceries and followed his sister.

  "I know you miss her, but... you can't keep doing this, Ed," Lucy went on. "Eventually, someone's going to call the police on you for stalking."

  "I'm not stalking," Edmund hissed. He yanked the straps of Lucy's bicycle, securing the crate with a clenched jaw. "Arrested... What rubbish. I'm a king! I've fought wars and led armies."

  "Not in this world," Lucy said, softer. Her attention wandered to a couple in the near distance. Her frown deepened, if that was even possible. Something twinged in her gut as she watched them. A handsome boy with a beautiful girl, leaning into each other, whispering and giggling like they were the only people in the world. Lucy pressed her lips together, tucking her hair behind her ear like the beautiful girl in the distance had.

  Of course, Edmund hadn't noticed. "Yeah, instead I'm doing battle with Eustace Clarence Scrubb... if anyone so deserved a name," he grumbled. He glanced up, noticing his sister's wandering eyes. "What are you doing?"

  Lucy flinched. "Nothing. Come on, then."

  By the time they made it home, Edmund counted four more things that reminded him of Hope. Such misery, to love someone as much as he did.

  "I'm home!" Lucy called as she entered their aunt and uncle's house. "Hello, Uncle Harold. I tried to find some carrots, but all they had were turnips again." She breezed past their uncle as he read the newspaper in the living room. The TV was on, blaring updates about the war on the western front, but he was hardly paying attention. "Shall I start making soup? Aunt Alberta's on her way home." She stepped into the living room again when her uncle didn't respond. "...Uncle Harold?"

  Edmund may have been a king, but that didn't stop him from sticking his tongue out at his unsuspecting uncle.

  "Father!" a grating voice that could only belong to Eustace Scrubb squealed. "Edmund's making faces at you!" Then, he launched a spitball at his cousin. "Why don't you go back to fawning over your imaginary girlfriend!"

  "Why you little—!" Edmund sneered, stomping up the stairs after him.

  "FATHER, HE'S GOING TO HIT ME!"

  "Edmund, look!" Lucy chirped, rushing after them. She may have been the only reason Eustace didn't get hit in that moment. She was waving a postcard in the air with a grin that seemed so misplaced in that household. "It's from Susan!"

  The siblings hurried up the stairs, away from their insufferable little cousin, into the spare bedroom Lucy inhabited in the attic. It was a narrow space, with pale furniture and a low ceiling that Lucy sometimes said made her feel smaller than she was.

  I do wish you were here with us, Susan's letter read. It's been such an adventure, but nothing like our times in Narnia. America is very exciting, except we never see Father. He works so very hard. I was invited to the British Consul's tea party this week by a naval officer, who happens to be very handsome. I think he fancies me. I'm not sure there's a polite way to say I prefer blonde royals with an odd love for corsets.

  Edmund stood from his spot on Lucy's bed, trying to swallow his envy. He tried to imagine his big sister, wherever she was, writing that letter. She had a talent for saying so much with so little. A special language perhaps only siblings could really understand. Even her curly penmanship left a bitter taste on his tongue. He might never admit it to their faces, but he missed Peter and Susan just as much as he missed his wife.

  There wasn't much decor in the spare bedroom. Lucy hadn't bothered to decorate. She was under the impression they would be leaving Cambridge sooner than they had, so she hadn't bothered. The only one that piqued Edmund's attention was a painting on the wall, of a ship with a purple sail treading the open seas.

  Lucy continued to read aloud, "It seems the Germans have made the crossing difficult right now. Times are hard. Mother hopes you both won't mind..." Her tone became sharper, more hopeless. "...another few months in Cambridge."

  Edmund turned, taking the letter from his sister and sitting beside her again. "What?"

  "Another few months?" Lucy groaned. "How will we survive?"

  "You're lucky," Edmund said. "At least you've got your own room. I'm stuck with mullet mouth." He leaned back on her bed, sprawling out his legs as she took his place before the painting. It seemed to have caught Lucy's attention, too.

  "Susan and Peter are the lucky ones," Lucy mumbled. "Off on adventures..."

  "Yeah, they're the eldest, and we're the youngest. We don't matter as much."

  Lucy wandered toward the mirror, fidgeting with her auburn hair. Again, she tucked it behind her ear. "Do you think I look anything like Susan?"

  But Edmund hadn't heard her. Or maybe he just chose not to hear her. It was hard to control with his siblings, like a reflex. He set the letter aside. The painting was calling to him, the same way every little thing reminded him of Hope (which was funny because she would never set foot on such a vessel if she could manage it).

  "Lucy, have you seen this ship before?" Edmund wondered.

  A sweet smile found Lucy's lips. "Yes. It's very Narnian-looking, isn't it?"

  "Yeah. Just another reminder that we're here and not there."

  Edmund studied the painting for a little longer. And had his stupid cousin not appeared in the doorway to mock them both, he might have noticed before his sister had that there was something odd about the painting.

  The water in the painting was moving, and the ship seemed to be coming closer.