The train shuddered to a stop. The impact from this shoved Susan into Edmund who in turn trod heavily on Lucy's foot making her yelp and to trip over Peter.

They disentangled from the knot they found themselves in with much shoving and calling of names. After a moment they were back in their respective seats; Susan staring out the window, Lucy back to reading 'The Golden Key' by George MacDonald, and Edmund trying to persuade Peter that getting out the chess set and being trounced by Edmund was really a good idea.

After the war had finally come to an end they had not returned to London as they had expected but had been shipped out to Aunt Alberta and Uncle Harold's as a bomb had landed on their house and other living arrangements had to be made.

Staying with Alberta and Harold who were by themselves as unpleasant as itchy wool socks and cold oatmeal was unfortunate enough but it also meant cousin Eustace…whose company was akin to a thousand paper cuts with lemon thrown on them. As Lucy had once pointed out, "He almost deserves being called Eustace Clarence Scrubb."

At one point Edmund had lost his temper and challenged his exasperating relation to a duel. At first Eustace had laughed but caught the deadly gleam in Edmund's eye and had run in squealing to Aunt Alberta. It was… difficult to behave as a child would."

"Are we going to talk about this?" Peter said finally jostling the others.

Susan sighed and moved her thick glossy locks out of her eyes with a graceful gesture that belonged to a queen and not to a schoolgirl. "Talk about what, Peter?"

"What we are going to do now," he bit out.

"Be children, I suppose," Susan replied airily.

Edmund let out an incredulous laugh, "Be children? Su, we can't be children. We are men and women grown despite our, um, distinct lack of height."

Another sigh. "Of that Edmund, I am all too aware. But, what are we to do? We must play at this. Unless you fancy a stay at a sanitarium?"

"Can't we at least tell Mum and Father the truth?" Lucy chirped hesitantly. She looked hopefully at her siblings.

After a long pause and pointed glances from both Susan and Edmund, Peter answered her, "No." It was said flatly. And it was the same voice that had once issued orders to an army. "And you know full well why." This time the voice was softer.

Lucy nodded unhappily. She knew why. They wouldn't be believed. Frank and Helen Pevensie were good and kind and true…they weren't, however, prone to believe it when their children told them some fantastic tale. It would be the 'fairies in the garden' incident all over again.

Susan slung a comforting arm around her sister's slight shoulders. "Besides, remember what the professor said, that we should only talk about it too others like us who've had the strange and wonderful happen to them."

Lucy nodded unhappily. "But who's like us?"

A sharp knock was heard by the four siblings. The door slid open to reveal a young girl with a fresh pretty face and brown hair in plaits who held a little blond boy by the hand and large suitcase in the other.

"Room for two more?" she asked cheerfully.

Susan nodded. "Come in."

Before the girl could take a step Peter had taken her suitcase that felt like it was loaded with bricks and walked it over to the window.

"Thanks," The girl took this as an invitation and plopped herself down next to Susan. "I'm Nancy Tyler and this is Jamie…my son." It was said with something like defiance.

Peter's eyes widened and he exchanged an incredulous glance with Edmund. She couldn't be any older than him.

Nancy's lips quirked up in a rueful smile. "I'm older than I look."

Lucy grinned at her. "You too? I'm Lucy."

"Peter." He inclined his head in a bow that was almost courtly.

"Edmund." He nodded at her respectfully.

"Susan." She just smiled. Nancy tried not to feel blinded.

A silence descended over the cabin and Nancy waited for the inevitable question about Jamie's father. It didn't seem to be forthcoming.

The Pevensies' could have entire conversations that didn't involve words. As a unit they decided not to inquire about Jamie's father who wasn't, obviously, married to Jamie's mother.

Children simply did not have eyes like that. Nancy wondered where they had come from. They certainly couldn't be local. Her own experiences with the…unlikely had made her hyper aware of any deviation to the norm. Anyone else might not notice the fact that the boys held themselves like some of the soldiers she'd met…relaxed but still dangerous. Or that the girls seemed far too graceful and composed for their age. But she noticed.

Nancy shook her head sharply and wondered if she'd ever be as blind as most people seemed to be ever again.

"Where are you lot from?" Nancy said trying for subtle and failing somewhat. Subtle was not something she excelled at. But she'd give it a go.

"Nar...er Finchley," Peter said tripping over his tongue. His first response had come from the truest instincts of his heart. Finchley. It might be technically correct but it felt like a lie.

Susan gave a sigh. It felt like a lie to her too. Finchley may have been where they were born but it was certainly not where they were truly from. Wait…did that mean they weren't British anymore?

"Shipped out to the country were you?" She probed.

Peter and Edmund exchanged a rueful grin. Nancy was hardly the most skilled interrogator they'd ever had but from the determined glint in her eye she may shape into one of the most persistent.

"Yes," Lucy canted a small eyebrow. "Weren't you?"

Nancy shrugged. "No. Someone might have tried to take Jamie from me; if they found out he was my son and not my brother." She was never lying about her son. Ever again.

"Oh," said Susan the experienced diplomat.

Nancy suddenly smiled, "You missed all the excitement?"

Edmund made a face, "We caught some of the excitement. I've had enough of ordinance dropping thank you."

The young mother let out a chuckle. "Who said I was talking about bombs…although it did fall from the sky."

At that very odd sentence the Pevensies' blinked at her in confusion. What By the Lion's Mane was that supposed to mean?

"Mummy?" said a small voice.

Nancy smiled down at her son, "What is it sweetheart?"

"Is the doctor going to be at the train station?"

"Not the Doctor…but Dr. Constantine will be."

The sentence was enough to make Edmund's head hurt. From the looks of Susan's pained expression it had rubbed her ingrained logic the wrong way.

Peter and Lucy merely looked puzzled. Which wasn't too much of a surprise, they had always been more the take action types where Susan and Edmund had been the more contemplative sorts.

"Dr. Constantine's our guardian," Nancy said like it explained something.

"Ah," said Peter like he understood.

"What fell from the sky that wasn't a bomb?" Lucy asked quietly.

"I could tell ya but I don't think you'd believe it."

This was a challenge and thus had to be answered.

Peter smiled at her. It was both amused and predatory. "Try us."

Nancy held Peter's gaze.

"Are they ever going to blink?" Edmund inquired in fascination.

"Don't know," Susan said with a shrug. "You know what he's like. Put a challenge in front of him and he hangs on. Like a terrier. Doesn't always have to win either…but he's got to try.

Lucy laughed at the sight of the silent contest, "Do you think she was one of the people the professor was talking about?"

"Mummy," Jamie said in his piping voice.

At this both Jamie's mother and Peter blinked ending the contest happily in a draw.

"What is it Jamie?"

"The train's gone all cold. And there's mist coming from under the door." Jamie twisted around so he could look her in the eyes. "Didn't you notice?"

"He's right. Look," Lucy pointed at the sliding train compartment door that was leaking cold air.

"The windows have iced up," Edmund observed.

Peter and Lucy looked at the door with the same exact expression of expectation.

Susan let out a low chuckle, "See what I mean. A terrier. And Lucy's not much better."

"'Once more into the breach, dear friends, once more and all that'," Grinned Edmund rubbing his hands together.

"We are in the room you know?" Peter said rolling his eyes.

"And we can hear you," pointed out Lucy.

Susan smile widened, "We know. So peril awaits us."

"Just like old times," Edmund said with anticipation.

"Oi!" snapped Nancy who was rooting through her suitcase. "In case you lot haven't noticed that mist is cold and you might want to bundle up before you go looking for peril." She pulled out two Jamie sized jumpers, "Arms up." Jamie knowing an order when he heard one stuck out his arms and patiently waited out being jumpered.

"She does have a point," Susan said shrugging herself into a jacket. "That mist feels as cold as a hundred year winter."

"You're right Su, "Always winter and never Christmas," Edmund gave the door a considering look.

"Just like that and unlike," Lucy replied. "The air didn't taste like lightning then."

Nancy who was buttoning up her thick blue wool coat watched this exchange in fascination. They had stopped even sounding like children. They had stopped their rather see though childish pretenses and instead spoke like…well a little like him. Not really. They weren't like him. Except that they held something like his authority.

"Nancy," Peter said thoughtfully. "We'll go and investigate. You and Jamie stay here." This was said as if he expected it to be obeyed.

Nancy raised a brow, "When exactly did you become the boss of me?"

The other Pevensies laughed out loud at Peter who gaped at the girl in consternation.

"'Sides I know from peril. It's more likely to come crashing in on top of ya when you're not moving." She gave Peter a wry grin. "You coming?"

Peter blinked at her. Then he shook his head. Right. Nancy wasn't his subject and wasn't inclined to obey him. He wondered if she was inclined to obey anyone. He rather doubted it.

Carefully and not without difficulty the boys slid the frosted doors opened. The still moving train was filled with an eerie white mist that wafted down the corridor by a non-existent wind.

"Which way do we go up or down?" Susan wondered.

"The mist is coming from down towards the end," Nancy observed.

Peter nodded briskly. "Susan, guard the flank." Susan slipped to the back. "Ed, take point. Lucy stays with Nancy and Jamie." Peter's voice rang with command.

And that was how a bemused Nancy found herself more or less in the middle of what looked like a practiced formation. It was obviously was formed for the express purpose of protecting her and Jamie; although, she wasn't sure what good it would do her to have little Lucy as a bodyguard.

Finchley, her foot.

They wandered down the corridor stopping every now and then to peer into an open cabin to see how its passengers had fared. Mostly they were asleep.

It started with a pinched hissing noise that would start abruptly in irregular intervals and end with a stuttering cough. It grated on the nerves and ears with an irritation born out of its rhythmless knell.

"Listen," Peter quietly. He didn't bother to whisper. Whispers carried. It sounded like running footfalls.

Peter made a slight movement with his hand and Nancy found herself and Jamie pushed to the side of the train's corridor.

It was a boy who came running out of the chilling mist. A small boy about Lucy's age in a small muddy green suit and tie, a small billed cap perched on top his black hair. The dim light in the corridor bounced of the child, on closer inspection they would find that he was covered all over, body and cloths, with a slick plastic-like substance that caught the light. And he was running from something.

"Omph," Edmund managed as the child plowed into him. The boy beat at him with tiny fists trying to get lose. "Calm down," Edmund commanded.

Nancy looked at the quietest of the children in shock. Edmund had a way of fading into the background until he was needed. His voice while still far away from a man's in substance had rang with a timbre that clearly belonged to someone much older.

The child looked up in surprise at the tone and quieted.

"There now. That's better." Edmund's hands rested lightly on the child's frail shoulders. "We won't hurt you."

The child blinked uncertainly at him.

Nancy moved forward and knelt before the child, "Hello. My name's Nancy and this is my little boy Jamie." The others remembered their manners and introduced themselves.

"What are you running from?" Susan asked gently.

The child let out a spool of liquid syllables that hung in the air like soap bubbles.

Lucy sighed in resignation, "And of course he doesn't speak English."

"Where do you think he's from?" Peter asked giving the mist a speculative glace before turning back to the child. It would not do to go off his guard.

"The future maybe," Nancy said thoughtfully. "Or another world."

Four sets of eyes turned toward her. Nancy shrugged, "That's all I've got."

"Peter."

"Edmund."

"Peter."

"Edmund."

"Do they do this a lot?" Nancy said in fascination.

Lucy quirked up an eyebrow, "Have entire conversations with just their names? Yes."

"Right now they're discussing in depth, the situation at hand and what is going to be done about it," interpreted Susan.

"Have they mentioned at all what kind of lie you'll be telling me?" Again four sets of eyes focused on her.

Nancy shrugged. "You lot are about as local as this one. Finchley indeed."

"Not true," protested Lucy. "I was born in Finchley."

Peter considered Nancy's pretty well scrubbed face and the humorous not-going-to-accept-any-nonsense glint in her eye. He sighed. "We were born here. But, it's not where we're from…not anymore."

His sisters and his brother made astonished noises at Peter telling her that much.

He made a face at their astonished expressions, "In case you haven't noticed the train is full of cold eerie mist and Edmund just got knocked off his feet by a very shiny child…"

"I wasn't knocked off my feet," Edmund protested.

Peter continued on ignoring Edmund's commentary. "And is Nancy panicking? No. She has theories about future people and other worlds."

"And she still hasn't told us what fell from the sky that wasn't a bomb," Lucy grumbled.

"She knows we are not quite what we appear to be," Susan mentioned before turning to peer at the fog.

Nancy laughed. Her voice echoing in the train corridor, "Oh, who is?"

"The noise has started again," Susan said apprehensively. "It's louder then before. Louder and therefore closer."

"Run?" Edmund suggested calmly.

"Run." Replied Peter just as calmly.

And with that the Pevensies, the Tylers, and the lost boy begin running up the train corridor to escape the increasingly loud thing in the mist.

Nancy heart hadn't raced so much since the air raids had stopped. She found that she missed that rush of feeling alive that only running for her life could give her. She wondered what that said about her. As much as she appreciated the sharp tug of adrenalin her mother's heart wanted Jamie as far away from the thing in the mist as possible. Who was she kidding? She felt much the same thing for the Pevensies and the shiny child.

It seemed as if they would keep running forever until their hearts gave out. But forever didn't come. The end of the box car came. The child made a noise like a mournful bell.

Nancy acting of sheer instinct pushed Jamie behind her. She tried to do the same to a protesting Lucy.

Susan scooped the child into her arms and he buried his face into her neck.

Edmund stepped backward, though he knew not what approached he would defend the others with his life.

Peter's head lifted and he stared at what he could not see defiantly. He strode toward it confidently.

"He's gone nutters. He has," Nancy murmured.

"Stop." Peter said. It wasn't a request. It was a fact and threats be damned. "You will not have the child. He is under Our protection."

Nancy noted bemusedly that the 'Our' sounded capitalized.

The mist hesitated but continued forward.

"Stop in Aslan's name!"

The name hit the mist like sunlight on a foggy morning; melting it. Whatever was hiding in the mist fled they were left in an empty train corridor.

"What was that name you used?" Nancy demanded.

She stalked up to him reminding him of his mother demanding an answer for something that he wasn't completely sure that he did.

"What name?" He said finally.

"The name you spoke that frightened off the mist. It sounded like music, tasted like chocolate cake and felt like having your son come back from the dead!" Nancy exclaimed.

The Pevensies tore themselves from Nancy's passionate voice and red face to stare at Jamie who was amusing himself by making faces off the shiny child's reflective surface.

"Aslan. The name is Aslan." Lucy said seriously. "You might know him…but with a different name."

Nancy blinked trying to figure that one out. "Who is he? The way that thing went he can't be safe."

Susan let out a laugh, "Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good."

Nancy's face became thoughtful at this description. "I've known someone who was good but wasn't safe…Do you think it's coming back for Jack?"

There was a short silence at her abrupt change in topic.

"Jack?" Edmund asked.

Nancy's lips quirked up, "We can't keep calling him the shiny child. It's rude."

"Why Jack in particular?" Susan asked thoughtfully. "And not George, or Sam or Alistair; Seems a specific name choice."

"Knew a Jack once, a conman who was a better man than who he thought. Saved a lot of people he did."

Lucy wrinkled her nose, "Did Jack the conman have anything to do with the thing that fell from the sky that wasn't a bomb?"

"Yeah. It was all his fault." Nancy wrinkled her nose back at the smaller girl. Susan was right. Just like a terrier.

"Anything that's chased 'Jack' through a gateway probably won't give up so easily," Peter murmured.

"So, let me see if I got this," said Edmund thoughtfully. "We have an unknown enemy, no weapons and no one in authority is going to listen to us because we're too short to know anything."

"That does seem to be our dilemma," replied Peter.

"So what if we don't know what we're up against. So what if we don't have any weapons. Always what we have taken in hand, the same we have achieved," Susan said her carriage and manner all but screaming royal born.

Nancy forced down the sudden inexplicable urge to curtsy.

"Who are you people?" Nancy said in exasperation.

"Peter, High King of Narnia."

"Okay."

The Pevensies stared at her in complete and utter astonishment.

"You believe me," Peter said his eyes wide with astonishment. "You believe me just like that?"

Nancy laughed at him, "The thing that fell from the sky that wasn't a bomb? It was an ambulance from another world. There were zombie people running around with gas-mask heads calling for their mummies, and the sky was full of Germans dropping bombs on me. Tell me. Do you think there's anything left I couldn't believe?"