AN: This is the sequel to my other Golden Compass (his dark materials, whatever)/Narnia crossover. In the world Lucy and Edmund are in, the one where everyone has dæmons, a little over two years has gone by since the events of the last chapter (chapter 55) of "The Silver Pocket Watch". During this time, Edmund has become an alethiometrist-someone who has mastered the study/reading/etc.. of alethiometers. I don't want to give too much of the plot away, so I won't say anything further regarding it for now. So here it is: the first chapter of 'Alethiometrist's Silver'! Hope you like it.

The shopkeeper's sleek dark gray cat dæmon with the copper-coloured, bronze-flecked eyes, balancing gracefully on the very edge of the glass-front-display countertop, yawned widely, flicked her tail in a rather aimless manner, and briefly shifted her gaze over to the snowy-owl dæmon.

The owl was perched on the left shoulder of her human, a dark-headed boy with a face that while-to his secret dismay-was steadfastly youngish, had a sort of wisdom about it in appearance all the same. Perhaps the fact that his dæmon was an owl of all creatures assisted this bold effect somewhat.

His name was Edmund Belacqua; his dæmon's, Eleanor Glimfeather-Ella, for short. Once, a very long time ago, in what felt to him like another life, one quite separate from the one he now lived and the one he'd been living in the much more recent past, his name had been Edmund Coulter-after his father, who was dead. His mother, the former unfaithful Mrs. Coulter, was dead, too; for a little over two years now.

Anyway, as Edmund stared down at a circular, glittering object that the shopkeeper believed to be made of brass mixed with some sort of high-quality tin but was really made of gold inlaid with silver, he thought: That cannot be what I think it is.

It looked, to anyone who didn't know better, like an over-sized pocket-watch or a compass; but Edmund, despite the fact that it was closed up and so he couldn't be certain, exactly, at the moment, suspected it was something far more valuable. An alehtiometer.

If it was an alehtiometer, however, why hadn't the shopkeeper at least noticed, even if he didn't know anything about truth-measures, how usual an object it was? If it was an alethiometer, it wouldn't have numbers or directions inside, it would, depending on its kind, have foreign letters or else pictures all round the edge.

Edmund noticed that the shopkeeper did squint a lot. His dæmon, too, though she looked directly at Ella, didn't seem to be taking in quite as much as she could. This man and his dæmon were both quiet, demure, and probably fairly short-sighted as well.

"May I see that?" asked Edmund, pointing down at the glimmering object under the glass. Ella clanked her beak and fixed her bright glowing eyes on the object her master has inquired about.

"Certainly," said the shopkeeper as his dæmon hopped down so that he could lift up the glass.

Edmund was correct in guessing that the man's eye-sight was a bit lacking, for he had to point at the object twice more before the shopkeeper handed him the right one.

"It's nice," Edmund reported absently, knowing the shopkeeper wanted him to say something regarding the object as he studied it.

It was slightly heavier than it looked. When opened, the crystal face, covering over a mix of pictures and letters, the likes of which were breathtaking for someone in Ed's particular line of work, gleamed as bright as a diamond-or a star. It was the cool, smooth feel of real gold that rested in his hands, and the silver his fingers ran over as his eyes widened, never straying from the inside symbols (the truly important part), was untarnished.

Repressing an amazed squawk that was building up in her throat, Ella dug part of her claws through her human's over-coat, piercing his skin ever so slightly. It didn't really hurt, it just felt to Edmund as if he'd merely dug his own fingernails into the flesh of his arm for some reason or other. And even if it had stung, he would have been too enthralled with the alethiometer to notice.

How had something this valuable been hidden in plain sight for…for who knew how long? It was a wonder, a true marvel, that the Ruling Powers had not found it, taken it, and destroyed it.

Could he be wrong, he wondered, was it not an alethiometer after all? It certainly looked and felt the part-he was pretty much convinced; but, then, why hadn't it been found before now? Where had it come from?

"If you don't mind my asking, where did you get this?" Edmund did his best to address the question in as 'merely curious' a tone as he could muster up, still sounding a bit breathless for all his pains.

The shopkeeper shrugged his shoulders. "I think that compass came from the far north-someplace where they use different sorts of symbols to tell directions apart than we do. Must be pretty old, too, I'd presume. Probably out of date; but a lovely antique…"

So he does think it's a compass, Edmund realized, hoping the anxious way his dæmon was ruffling her white feathers and clenching her beak tighter together than need be wouldn't give away his own true knowledge regarding this 'compass made of brass'.

"Very fine brass," the shopkeeper went on, neither he nor his cat-dæmon seeming to notice anything odd about their current potential customer. Working in a store, one meets all sorts of eccentrics from time to time, and, in comparison, Edmund Belacqua was quite normal-aside from being a bit jumpy. "In truth, amongst the brightest of brass I've seen." He squinted again, harmlessly.

Ella and her human exchanged a glance. Then, from the snowy-owl, "How much do you want for it?"

"An antique collector, then, are you, my boy?"

At sixteen, being of quite an independent, grave nature, Edmund did not appreciate being called 'boy', but he was fairly accustomed to it when it came to some elderly, or else borderline-elderly, persons. At least it was better than, 'my little man'; one really had to draw the line somewhere!

"Something like that," said Edmund, not exactly lying. It wasn't as if he could say, "Well, not exactly, I'm, well, an alethiometrist"; not if he didn't want his bottom hauled off to prison by the Ruling Powers, he couldn't.

"Very fine brass, like I said…"

Edmund exhaled, pretending to be exasperated, when, actually, it was a breath of deep relief.

He didn't exactly have a fortune to his name. Becoming a Belacqua had ended up meaning forgoing any rights to being born into the Coulter family; this, unfortunately, included the family's money, his half of the would-be inheritance.

Susan, his elder sister, also had another surname now-mostly through marriage, though she'd changed it unofficially before that, choosing the name because of an (at the time) lost romantic attachment to the man who was now her husband. At any rate, she wasn't able to collect her half of the inheritance, either, having gone into another world; the one her husband was originally born into.

So as far as Edmund knew, any money his dead parents had put aside was still resting in a trust someplace. He couldn't very well claim it, even if he had kept his old surname, with the Ruling Powers at his heels like bitch hounds in heat. If things had been complicated two years ago, they were even more so now.

Because of this, and his lack of riches, he was relieved that the shopkeeper did not know the object to be made of real gold. He felt a little bad 'cheating' the poor chap, so to speak, when he knew what it was really made of, but what choice did he have? He couldn't very well afford to do the so-called 'honourable' thing, telling the shopkeeper it was real gold and silver and then stroll out empty-handed. If he did that, it was only a matter of time before the Ruling Powers discovered it here; a real-as-corn alethiometer could not remain a secret for very long. It would be considered a contraption of the heretics and taken away.

Yes, this was the only thing to do. The right thing, even. Ella let out a low bird-whistle.

The rest of the conversation was carried out in low-voices, as it was usually considered bad manners to discuss payment in detail with a loud tone, and finally, it was settled. The 'compass' was bought and paid for, and both shopkeeper and customer were satisfied.

"Should we wrap it up for you, dear?" asked the shopkeeper's dæmon.

Edmund nodded; and the shopkeeper pulled out a bolt of cotton, wrapped it twice around the 'compass', and then tied it with string. This took three tries, and in the end it was still too loose and Edmund had to tighten the knots for him.

He was just slipping the alethiometer into his greatcoat pocket when the bells on the door jingled and a brown-haired girl in a rich, burgundy coat stumbled over the threshold, her arms full of parcels. At her side, trotted her little mouse dæmon about the size of a cat wearing a golden band with a red feather in it around one of his soft pale-brown (almost tan) ears.

"Edmund," she said, a little tersely; "you're supposed to be helping me with the groceries."

The shopkeeper smiled at her, grinning at Edmund in an idiotic, 'well, somebody's in trouble…' sort of way.

"Oh, um, Sir, this is my…um…" He always had something of a difficulty introducing Lucy Pevensie and Reepicheep.

The problem was largely that people, especially nosy ones, tended to assume a lot of things when they saw two young persons who clearly traveled together and spent innumerable hours together and yet, were not related, nor married. Only when he was out-right lying, could he say they were married; because, quite frankly, even though he-more often than not-rather wished they were, they weren't. And he couldn't say 'we live together' either, because everybody had such dirty minds now-a-days and might assume they slept together, which they didn't. He could say-and with complete honestly, too-that they were partners in his work. Indeed, Lucy's skill (and the fact that she had her own alethiometer, an older, silver one given to her by a professor with a robin dæmon a long while back), had been of inexpressible help to him over the past couple of years-he didn't know what he would have possibly done without her…and her company. But, then, that brought the problem round full-circle; he couldn't freely tell anyone he was an alethiometrist.

Lucy, ever the innocent-minded one of the pair, never had any problems saying that he was her boyfriend, and had endured (poor girl) countless hard stares from spinster ladies who 'disapproved'. She did not understand their bitterness or why Edmund always went red in the face when confronted with their prudish glowers. Finally, quite recently, Edmund had broken down and had 'a talk' with Lucy regarding this and she'd stared at him, her mouth agape. The only thing she'd appeared able to do for several minutes was stammer out, "They think we do...that?"

Anyway, he finally settled on, for the moment, "This is Lucy and Reep", relying on the low-interest factor between a seller and buyer once a transaction was completed to keep the man and his dæmon from asking questions.

"Come on, Lu, let's go." Edmund waved goodbye to the shopkeeper who waved back politely before turning round and looking for the broom to sweep behind the counters while his dæmon licked her left forepaw and started cleaning her face with a surprising level of vigor for such a mellow-looking creature. "We don't want to be too late getting back."

Glancing up from his broom and dustbin, the shopkeeper said something that sounded like, "Have a nice day, squirt."

"Squirt?" echoed Edmund in disbelief when they were out of the store's ear-shot and headed towards the bicycle they'd parked by an old oak tree several hours earlier. Under his breath, only so that Lucy could hear, he muttered, "I'm an alethiometrist! Just how old does the man think I am?"

"He did squint an awful lot," Ella pointed out, flapping her wings for emphasis. "It's a miracle he didn't think I was a dove!"

"I suppose you're right."

"Do you have any idea what time it is, Ed?" Lucy asked him flat out when he was finished chatting with his dæmon, placing the majority of the food-parcels into a straw basket on the handlebars. "I thought you were going to meet me an hour ago to help me carry these."

Reepicheep's eyes flashed accusingly at Ella as he climbed up his human's arm and gripped the side of her shoulder.

If Reepicheep had still been able to change shape, he would have shifted into a flying creature so that it would have been easier to get direct eye-contact. However, Lucy had been through puberty, almost in its entirety, and while she'd retained a sense of innocence most fourteen year old girls did not possess, she had been unable to keep her dæmon from settling into a permanent form. It wasn't at all surprising, though, that he'd settled as his most commonly-used shape, the mouse with a golden band; for a while, he'd gone between that and only one other shape, a red panda, but he could no longer change even that much. He was a full-time mouse dæmon now, and despite the fact that at times Lucy missed the days when Reep had been able to change into whatever he liked, in the same way a person in a world without visible dæmons misses their childhood when they wake up to find suddenly that they are full-fledged teenagers in the flesh, there was something oddly fulfilling about knowing what Reepicheep would look like every morning when she awoke. It was almost like, through growing up, she'd come to know herself a little better.

"I'm sorry, Lucy," Edmund whispered, glancing both ways quickly. "I found something…" His eyes widened, letting her in on the secret that it was something very important.

"What is it?"

"I'll show you when we get back home." He tied one of the parcels unable to fit into the basket to the back of the bicycle with a strong piece of string.

'Home', by the way, at that particular point in time, was a small flat Edmund was paying rent for them to stay in by doing odd-jobs for the weak-boned, whisker-faced landlord with a shrewd-looking bandicoot dæmon. Of course he didn't know how much longer he and Lucy would be able to stay there safely, but he hoped they still had a little time as it wasn't a bad place compared to some of the others. Sometimes, when they'd been very bad (of course, they hadn't stayed in those places for any extended amounts of time) Edmund had stayed up at night with his eyes wide open, wondering what Lucy's brother, his sister's husband, would think of his precious baby sister sleeping in a damp, overtly unhygienic room and would feel horribly guilty. He and Peter both wanted something better for Lucy. In this, the two young men would have been in perfect agreement.

Edmund climbed onto the bicycle and Lucy got on behind him, holding onto his waist as he started pedaling. It was a fairly nice ride, all things considered, mostly downhill, and there were lots of pretty trees all with yellow, red, and orange leaves that had not yet fallen and looked rather like large October-coloured rainbows.

They came to a stop at a small creek, over which, there was a sturdy but rickety-sounding plank-wood bridge with a low maple-wood railing on either side to secure it.

It was not the bridge itself that made Edmund stop and Lucy jolt forward, pressing just slightly into his back for a second to keep from falling off, rather, it was a middle-aged man with a blue cap on his head standing at the bridge's start with a serious-albeit a little bored-expression on his face. His dæmon was a handsome white-and-gray mare with a cream-coloured mane. She stood a little ways off from her human, lightly rubbing her left back hoof on the lower part of the trunk of the nearest tree.

"Hallo, there's been a new toll placed on this bridge," the man informed them. "Effective today."

"You have got to be joking," Edmund grumped. "This isn't exactly an ocean, I could jump from one side to the other without much difficulty-dash it!"

"It's only a little toll," the man said, as if that made all the difference.

Sighing, Edmund pulled some money out of his pocket and handed it to the man.

"All right," he said, handing back the change once he'd taken the proper amount out, "that's all set, then. Now about papers."

"What papers?" Lucy asked; Reepicheep leaned forward curiously.

"Oh, just general identification and such," he explained. "It's part of the new official laws passed in these parts. Can't let you by until we're sure of who you are-so many heretics and dangerous criminals on the loose these days. They never did find Lord Asriel, you know."

"Never heard of him," Edmund lied quickly. "But, seriously, do we look like criminals?"

"No," the man admited, "but I'm afraid it's just standard now, can't be helped."

"Fine." Edmund took out some fake identification papers. They were actually mostly accurate; well, except for the fact that it said Lucy's surname was Barfield (just to be on the safe side, should anyone ever come looking for her) and, oh yeah, that he-Edmund Belacqua-was, in fact, eighteen years old.

The man puzzled over these for a moment. Everything appeared to be in order…except…well…

"Are you sure you're eighteen?"

"Why?" asked Edmund, raising his dark eyebrows up at this 'misunderstanding'. "Do I look older?"

Lucy bit onto her lower lip; this was serious, so she knew she shouldn't laugh. Still, it was hard. At least Edmund had gotten a little better at replying to this ghastly question. The time before the last, he'd started going off randomly about politics in an attempt to sound 'grown-up' until Ella's beak clamped on his earlobe-it caused them both pain, but at least it got Edmund to stop while he was ahead.

"No, you look younger." The man didn't beat around the bush.

"Well, I can't help that," said Edmund dryly, struggling to keep a faint tremor out of his voice.

Though reluctantly, the man finally let them pass because the papers looked legal and it wasn't really his job to intervene unless they didn't. Besides, they'd already paid the toll; he was just holding them up now.

When they finally reached the long gravel stretch that surrounded the building the flat was located in, Edmund felt his racing heart slow down without even having realized it was beating like a drum since they'd crossed the bridge. Lucy noticed his anxiety (Reepicheep sensed it through Ella), but had chosen to say nothing.

There was a long climb up three sets of backstairs, carrying the heavy groceries, before they reached the doorway of their flat. Edmund always secretly half-expected to come home one day to find the place ransacked and felt a rush of gratefulness pulse through his veins each time it was not, each time they returned to find everything just as they left it.

The flat had four rooms. There was the largest one, which was the first one walked into upon entry; it was simple with faded tan-coloured walls and a small fireplace that could only hold a fire of pinecones and very, very small woodchips at best, but it was neat-and reasonably warm when the grate, newspaper, pinecones, and matches decided to cooperate. Then there was a walkway so narrow that if Edmund or Lucy had been even remotely fat they would have had to go through it side-ways leading to the other three rooms; a tiny washroom with a tin tub just barely big enough to bathe in (they had to keep chamber-pots under their beds), and then two snug bedrooms-one for each of them.

Once, Lucy had offered to share a bedroom with Edmund so that he could use the other one as his study to make his work a little easier. After he explained why people looked at them funny when they found out they lived together, she never made that suggestion again. The main room with the mini-fireplace and the table where they ate would have to do for the alethiometrist's study after all.

Reaching into the part of his greatcoat pocket he had concealed that day's purchase in, Edmund pulled out the cloth-wrapped alethiometer and set it down on the table.

"What's that?" Lucy reached down and, knowing he wouldn't mind, plucked at the strings, pulling them away from the cloth. Reepicheep climbed up onto the table and watched as his mistress peeled the cloth away and let out an, "Ooh!" of delighted surprise.

"The shopkeeper didn't know what it was."

Lucy took off her coat and draped it over the back of a chair. Around her waist she had a leather pouch, and inside the pouch was her silver alethiometer. It was as much of a beauty as it had ever been. Although it was an older version of the truth-measuring tool and thus, for many, was harder to interpret, it was lovingly carved and intricately designed; its moon-coloured gemstone as bright as ever. Any alethiometrist with taste and passion would have reacted to it as a seaman would react to an old Viking ship, however out of date it was, remarking that it was a 'lady' of its kind.

Up till now, Lucy's silver gift had been the only alethiometer they had. Lyra Silvertongue, who as the product of a love affair between Marisa Coulter and Lord Asriel was the half-sister of both Edmund and Lucy, happened to have an newer example; a golden 'modern' alethiometer; but she'd gone into another world two years ago-the same one Lord Asriel had disappeared into-taking the 'golden compass' with her. They had not heard from the girl and her dæmon, Pantalaimon, since then. And while they missed her (and Peter and Susan, too), life had to go on.

They'd had models of alethiometers, of course, to assist Edmund in his studies-and owning these was nearly as dangerous as owning a real alethiometer since any movement in that particular field was considered an abominable crime and utter heresy by the Ruling Powers. Also, they had the book; the leather bound tome Susan had brought with her from Norroway when she came to Jordan Collage and married Peter. The book was the most useful tool for Edmund when it came to the reading of alethiometers. Unlike Lucy, he could not read it simply by instinct, and it had taken pain-staking research and endless efforts for him to master the meanings of the various symbols. Harder still were the letters in Lucy's alethiometer. But he pressed on so that in a little over two years, he had accomplished more than most men do in a whole lifetime.

While Lucy compared her alethiometer to the new one they now had, Edmund lifted the floorboards next to the practically non-existent hearth; under there, he kept the book. When he had retrieved it, he set it on the table.

Ella nudged Reepicheep so that Edmund could get Lucy's attention.

"Lu, mind if I take a look at that?" He motioned down at the alethiometer. "I didn't get to examine it for as long as I wanted to in the shop. Once I'd paid for it, the next step was to hide it-to be safe."

Lucy handed it to him, pulling the book towards herself. Quickly, she blew off the layer of dust that always seemed to gather on the book's cover because of the untidy places she and Ed were always forced to hide it in. Then she opened it and was going through some of the different passages about alethiometers and dust and Aslan the great Lion (lingering the longest on those sections) while Edmund kept on examining the alethiometer in silence.

They had long ago fallen into a sort of peaceful rhythm; and sometimes Lucy felt so relaxed and low-key in Edmund's familiar presence that it was almost-to her-as if he and Ella were as much a part of her as her soul, her Reepicheep.

After a while, as the room started to get darker and they knew they would sooner rather than later have to begin lighting the lamps for the night, they began to stand closer together. Occasionally his hand would brush against hers or she would rest her head on the side of his arm, causing Ella to ruffle her feathers contentedly.

Their faces turned so that their eyes met. Edmund leaned forward and tenderly pressed his lips against Lucy's.

Their displays of affection were not constant, usually. For one thing, they were often very busy with all the work they had to do and simply didn't have as much time to be lovey-dovey and sit around mooning about each other as they might have liked. For another, Edmund rather saw to it that they generally took it easy as far as expressions of physical affection went; it wasn't that he didn't like kissing her or slipping his arms round her waist, holding her as close to him as he dared (on the contrary, he was very fond of it-to put it lightly), he simply felt the need for them to be careful.

He knew that with all the current complications of their lives there were not going to be 'wedding bells' for them any time soon-and that, in turn, made it a little awkward living alone with the girl he had strong feelings for. He loved her more, probably, even than he realized, as it was Lucy's well-being that concerned him more than anything else in the matter. He was aware (he would have had to be a complete dolt not to be after all the time they spent together) that Lucy was an innocent. The last thing he wanted to do was go and ruin that. Such being the case, he had no intention of letting the two of them become lovers. There may have been a few clean kisses here and there, reminiscent of the first one they'd shared-she'd been only twelve then and they had both had strawberry stains on their mouths. But it never got any further than that-he made sure of it.

They broke apart. Lucy blushed and bit onto her lower lip as she turned her attention back to the book. Edmund pretended to be fascinated with the alethiometer he still held in his hands, but he wasn't really thinking about what he was looking at.

Suddenly there came a horrible din, a clamor. It was coming from the stairwell leading up to their flat. Somewhat muffled but with fair distinction all the same, Edmund heard the frantic, flustered voice of the landlord talking some somebody. Then, "We represent the Ruling Powers, we have reason to believe there is a heretical criminal under this roof, let us pass at once or we will forcibly move you out of the way."

Oh God, thought Edmund.

What was going to happen? The Ruling Powers had closed in on them! They'd arrest him for sure-the fact that he was an alethiometrist was reason enough for them.

He didn't have time to mull over how they could have possibly found him; he had to do something, and fast. There was nothing to be done for himself-indeed, his own safety was the furthest thing from his mind-it was Lucy he worried for. What would they do to her as his assistant? Would they harm her in some way? By the Lion, what if they found out that she was Lord Asriel's daughter? For goodness sake, they might kill her!

His head whirling, not completely in his senses, Edmund latched onto Lucy's arm with a tighter, far more forceful grip than he'd ever used on her before. Ella swooped down and snatched up Reepicheep in her claws; he was a bit too heavy for her, but with the adrenaline pumping through her she could manage.

"Edmund, what are you doing?" Lucy whisper-cried.

In the corner of his bedroom, taking up too much space, there was a wardrobe that had come with the flat when they rented it. The wardrobe actually, though one couldn't tell just from looking at it, extended into the floor. When the wardrobe's cedar-wood door was opened, there was a trap-door under the bottom of it that lifted up.

Edmund wasted no time in lifting it and more or less flinging Lucy down into it. Ella dropped Reepicheep into his mistress's lap.

"And we're hiding in a wardrobe…again…" Reepicheep muttered, shaking his furry little head.

"Edmund, come on," whispered Lucy, thinking he was coming down into the trap-door, too.

Tears sprung up into his eyes. "I'm sorry, Lucy, it won't fit us both."

"What do you mean-" Lucy began as Edmund, without so much as a goodbye, dropped the two alethiometers into her lap beside Reepicheep and slammed the trap-door down over her head, locking her in. "Edmund!" She pounded her fist against the floor above her.

"They've gone mad," Reepicheep gasped, sniffing at one of few cracks above them.

Lucy started crying; she knew now what had really just happened. Edmund had just risked his own life to safe hers, hiding her before the Ruling Powers arrived.

The voices were in the same room as the wardrobe now, Lucy could hear them above her. The guards and their dæmons were saying something fierce-sounding. There were sounds of fighting. Shouting. Things breaking. Then, a cry of pain that Lucy was fairly certain had come from Edmund. They'd got him. The Ruling Powers had gotten Edmund!

Her heart beat wildly. Shaking, Lucy tried once again to lift up the trap-door, but it was no use; Edmund had shut it tight.

Would they hear her, she wondered, would the guard's dæmons sense Reepicheep and be able to tell their masters that there was someone else in the room, too, hiding?

Apparently not, because after a while it became dead-silent. Perhaps it was the cedar-wood, as that was said to have something of a sleepy-effect on dæmons, or perhaps no one had looked for her because they expected Edmund to be alone. Either way, it didn't matter. All that mattered was getting out now. She had to plan her next step-probably rescuing Edmund. And she couldn't do that from the inside of a trap-door.

She had her dagger on her; the one Ma Costa gave her a long time ago with her dæmon's name on it. It had been in her skirt-pocket when Edmund hid her. Nothing else for it, Lucy reached up and tried to loosen the hold of the cracks in the door above her. It took many hours, but she got herself free in the end.

She took up with her the two alethiometers, her dagger, and a dwarf-sword she found in the corner of the wardrobe upon her escape (Lucy hadn't the foggiest idea who's it had been or why it was there, but she took it with her anyway, thinking it might come in useful sometime).

Walking around the flat, Lucy gaped, taking in everything in a muddled, daze-like state. It was a little passed dawn-a whole night had gone by-and there was morning light coming in through the windows.

"Edmund?" she called, her voice trembling as she swallowed back tears. "Edmund?"

"He's not here, you know they took him," said Reepicheep.

"I know," said Lucy. "I just don't want to believe it."

There were signs of a struggle all over the place; the table was over-turned, the book was gone, small objects were spread out on the floor in a mess, and all of the groceries from the day before were spilled out everywhere. There were even broken eggs dripping down the walls.

"Lucy…" Reepicheep's head turned over to one wall that didn't have egg on it; it had some blood stains instead.

Edmund's blood? Lucy wondered, feeling as if she was going to vomit, hoping desperately that it wasn't.

"What are we going to do, Reep?"

AN: So whatja think of the first chapter? Tell me! Please review.