"Edmund? Are you there?"

It was the third time Lucy had tried the Farnsworth and received no reply.

Edmund was probably off gallivanting with Caspian, maybe dinner and the theater, which made her far more envious than she should have been. Trying to pretend that everything was normal when it wasn't was very difficult. Needs must, as their mum would have said, and Edmund would have a lot to manage at the full moon tomorrow while she was tending to Caspian. That didn't make it easier now.

Lucy mixed up the argentum solution and paste for Peter and Susan, and compounded another two batches of fire-flower elixir – without burning them. In between the synthesizing and distillations, she made up fertility remedies with the mandrake and some of the powdered moonstone for her invented patient, just in case Tumnus proved to be the informant he was and not the friend he had once been.

The scrying glass must have stewed on it and decided she was peeved at her threat and Edmund's scolding from that morning because Lucy didn't even get a warning before Susan and Peter arrived. The Farnsworth was safely in the drawer and she hoped Edmund didn't suddenly decide to be communicative.

"Lucy, darling, have you been here all day?!" Susan chided.

"No, I got out to Tumnus's shop," Lucy replied, sniffing the suddenly delicious air. "Peter, is that…?"

They laughed at her audibly grumbling stomach. "Curry from the supper you missed?" Peter teased. "Why yes, sister, it is."

Peter dished out food for her from the tins while Susan made tea on the Bunsen burner. The tea tasted too much of fuel, but she was touched that her sister was so exacting in assuring that it contained enough milk and sugar for her liking. Lucy focused on her food until they had finished treating Rhindon and Susan's arrows with silver.

Lucy could ignore the Were-tooth band on Susan's arm when her sister rested her head on her shoulder and threaded her metal fingers with Lucy's own. "Thank you, so much, Lucy, for everything you are doing. We know it is hard for you and Edmund while Peter and I hunt."

Peter solemnly returned gleaming Rhindon to her sheath, reverently set the sword aside on a bench, and sat down on a stool across from her. "We can't stop them all," Peter said heavily. "There are too many. Without you and Edmund, and others, putting up the wards, protecting people, and trying to treat the bitten afterwards…"

He rubbed at his scarred eye socket under the patch and Lucy could see weariness etched in his every feature.

"We're losing ground?" Lucy asked softly, stroking Susan's hair; the neat braid of this morning had long since unraveled. Her brother and sister were so tired.

"We're not losing, but we aren't gaining either, and we should be," Susan said with a sigh.

"Today was hard?" Lucy asked.

Peter switched to massaging his good eye and ran a hand over his deeply lined face. "Just the usual. Another poor soul, more Were than human, who begged us to kill her before she infected her family."

Unspoken was that they had done so, granted the boon, and made a mercy kill. For some Were hunters, the prospect of collecting the King's bounty encouraged unsavory conduct and killings that were not at all merciful. Susan and Peter weren't like that but it took a heavy toll. It was much easier to kill a frothing, raving Were under a full moon than a poor human begging to be released from the cursed disease.

"Did you ever find what the scrying glass was trying to tell us this morning?"

"Half-dozen that it could have been." Susan's yawn split the last of her words into fragments.

"More than that, Su," Peter said with a grunt. "Thank you, Friend, all the same!" he called to the glass.

A contented little burble rose from the scrying glass. She was so fickle. And probably flirting with Susan.

Lucy shrugged her shoulder to dislodge Susan and nudged Peter's stool, else her brother and sister would fall asleep right there in the lab.

"You both are dead on your feet and you'll be up all night tomorrow. Go back to the house. Get some rest."

Susan and Peter were too weary to protest. They collected their weapons and reeled out. Lucy followed them, with a basket, gardening gloves, and trowel. "I have some harvesting to do."

"Shouldn't you come to bed, too?" Susan asked. "Surely it's too late for gardening!"

Fortunately, it was Peter who answered. "You dig up roots at night, right?"

"So you paid attention to my lessons!" Lucy gave them a gentle push, across the quiet street to their home on the other side. She hadn't realized it was so late; even the air ships were in for the night. And the night before a full moon was usually very quiet in Londontown as everyone mustered for the ordeal – checking and double-checking locks, bolts, bars, and cages, securing livestock, sharpening weapons, asking Mages to set wards.

There were some clouds but the nearly full moon reflected enough light to work by. She watched the house until the lights in Susan and Peter's bedrooms winked out. The whistles of the late night trains and boats on the Thames were reassuring, normal night sounds. Tomorrow, it would be howls and snarls.

She knelt in the garden and began to work. The plants were so well known to her, she didn't need to use the lantern to find the medicinal smelling goldenseal, the aromatic ginger and ginseng, and the earthy scented valerian root; the prickly burdock pierced her gloves as she dug.

It was so still, she could hear Edmund and Caspian laughing when they rounded the corner and turned onto their street. They quieted as they drew closer to the house. It's fine. Really. I'm just sitting in the dirt, in the dark, digging up roots that might save his life.

Or kill him.

She rose from behind the foxglove and hypericum and dusted herself off. Caspian vaulted easily over the garden gate, landed lightly, and executed a lovely bow. Edmund tried to copy him and managed almost as neatly to clear the fence, but crushed a corner of her thyme bush.

"Sorry."

"Good evening, Doctor. Are you well?"

"Fine, yes. Just harvesting roots." A cloud of dust billowed around her as Lucy tried dusting the dirt off; Caspian coughed.

"So I see. Allow me to get that for you?" Caspian picked up her basket and Edmund beckoned, opening the door to the lab for them, and then shutting it firmly behind them.

"I tried contacting you." Four times. She couldn't keep the edge out of her voice but neither Caspian nor Edmund seemed to notice because they dove immediately into the leftover curry and rice. Maybe they had been having too splendid of a time to eat … food.

"Sorry again, Lucy. Needs must," Edmund replied between prodigious spoonfuls. "I was setting wards tonight so that tomorrow I can just treat bites and keep Peter and Susan away from here while you're with Caspian." He pointed at the curry to Caspian. "It might be a little spicy for you."

Oh, that's right. I am an idiot.

Lucy poured them both cold tea. "I can make a fresh pot…"

"Thank you but this is superior to anything I'd have at my camp." Caspian slurped down the dregs, set down his cup and took a small spoonful of the curry. "Edmund had me watching the apothecary, Mr. Tumnus, and he left the shop only an hour ago." With a shrug, he took a bite and then sucked in a startled breath.

Lucy quickly added more milk to his tea. "That will help. And eat more rice."

"It is delicious. Like nothing I have ever had before. Your world is truly wondrous."

But for the Weres.

"Did you see anyone official-looking go in to the shop?" Lucy asked. "Or anyone heavily armed?"

Caspian shook his head. "Edmund described what I should be alert for but they all seemed to be customers. He's very peculiar, though. Did you know Tumnus looks like a Faun?"

"A what?"

"A type of Narnian," Edmund said. "Lu, did Peter and Susan give you any problems this evening?"

"Not at all. They were lovely and made me feel thoroughly guilty."

"Su made you tea, didn't she, extra sugar and milk, just as you like it?"

"And we have Peter to thank for the curry supper. But apart from my guilt, everything is fine. They're in bed."

"Have you been able to get everything done?"

"Except for the aconite, I can begin brewing the Cure. I am relieved to hear there was nothing untoward with Tumnus. It was a very odd encounter. I think he was asking for a bribe."

Edmund's fatigued look sharpened. "He can be subtle about that. And when he inventories his supply of aconite and discovers it is short, he will certainly suspect you."

"Needs must. We have to try." Lucy tried to ignore the warmth Caspian's smile triggered at her bold statement. "Hopefully, by the time Tumnus discovers the shortage, the potion will be brewed, Caspian cured, and…" For all her courage, Lucy couldn't quite complete the thought. Hers were but silly, girlish fantasies and there were only two ways this could end - Caspian would be dead, or he would leave.

In stories, heists always seemed more exciting. A heist was never supposed to involve anything so mundane as making sure your get-away vehicle would actually get you away. Edmund couldn't magically direct a ley line to charge a battery or fill a pressure tank, so they had to re-pressurize the tanks and switch out batteries on the air bike. It took forever. They were all brimming with impatience when they finally set out.

Edmund said he could drive so fast because he followed the ley lines. Lucy thought that was just a load of tosh. The bobbies who flagged Edmund down for public endangerment didn't believe his excuse, either.

Tonight, there were no civilians about for Edmund to terrify as he careened through Londontown byways. The few people on the streets were security, members of the Were Ministry, and Mages securing Londontown for the full moon. And the Pevensie air bike was registered to be on the roads at night, so no one bothered them at all. Swathed in scarves and goggles, with their dusters billowing behind them, Lucy thought they surely looked very mysterious and important, and certainly on official Were business for the Crown.

Of course, if anyone had looked more closely, they would have realized it wasn't Wolfsbane and Bow-arm on a pre-full moon patrol. The driver was far too reckless and there were, in fact, two people packed into the sidecar. She and Caspian were crammed – elbows and knees jutting every which way, their hair whipping about and tangling in their goggles.

"Thank you," Caspian whispered as they huddled together. He shifted, letting her lean against him, her back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her gloved hands. It would make it all much harder later but it was glorious now.

Caspian was thrilled. "We have nothing like this in Narnia," he sang into her ear as Londontown whistled by. Lucy didn't intend to nestle so closely. Truly, it was simply that wasn't anywhere else to put her body except snugly against his. Mostly.

Tumnus's shop was in a posh part of town in Mayfair near the Royal Society. Edmund had to magick the air bike as there wasn't any convenient rubbish bin or dark alley to conceal it.

"I hope we can find it after," Caspian whispered.

Edmund didn't need light to magick the door to the shop; she and Caspian just had to stand to the side, silently, and let Edmund do his work. Lucy's heart beat a little faster when Caspian stood so close their gloved fingers brushed one another. They both smelled of curry and a long day in the city.

There was something wrong, however. Typically, Edmund was able to pry open the enchantments keeping a door shut within moments. And standing in the dark, outside an important, expensive shop, in an exclusive part of Londontown meant they had very little time before someone appeared and demanded to know their business, which wasn't easily explainable.

"Damn it," Edmund muttered, letting his hands fall to his sides with a soft thwap. "He's had an advanced ward put on the door." With a disgusted grumble, Edmund added, "It's Merlin's work, of course."

The self-styled Merlin was a very clever, elderly Mage. She was also a pompous ass.

"Can you open it?"

Edmund passed his hands over the knob and shook his head. "Eventually, yes. It's not complex at all, just time-consuming, layers and layers of spells and wards, which is undoubtedly the point of it. A Were wouldn't have the patience; a Mage wouldn't have the time. Any thief is badly exposed here."

"How long?" Caspian whispered.

"An hour, perhaps two, if I'm not disturbed."

The odds of them being able to stand on a dark street the night before a full moon for two hours to break into the best apothecary in Londontown were non-existent. A bobby, private security, a member of the Ministry, or even a Were-hunter would be patrolling for just this sort of illicit activity.

Unless…

Lucy turned the knob and remembered the lock from when she entered and left the store earlier in the day. "I have an idea. Edmund, do you have your train pass?"

"My what?"

"Train pass. Your fare card. Oh bother, I surely have mine."

She was bumbling for her wallet when Edmund's card appeared between his fingers. "Here."

"I hope you don't have too many trips left on it."

Fare cards were sturdy, stiff, heavy paper with a resin coating so they would last longer with repeated uses. The steam trains and public air ships all accepted them instead of coins.

Caspian peered at the card in her hand. "Is that…"

"Yes, Sir Peter Wolfsbane is on both the crown coin and His Majesty's train fare card," Edmund said. "What are you doing, Lu?"

"Well, he's sealed the shop against break-ins by magick, but not taken many precautions for traditional thieving. The lock itself is fairly simple, I think. He has a bell on the door and there will be an alarm. Can you make sure everything is silenced?"

Edmund muttered a few words and Lucy felt the hair rise on her arms.

She grasped the fare card by the edge and wedged and shoved it between the door and the frame, then slid the card down until it connected with the locking mechanism.

"Where did you learn this?" Edmund asked.

"Medical school. The College was always trying to lock up the best liquor."

Gritting her teeth, she pushed and pulled at the card, hoping it wouldn't tear or get stuck in the door frame. "In school we used thin sheets of tempered metal to do this. I was very good at it." She finally got the angle she needed and give it another hard thrust. A very loud click resounded.

"Well done!" Caspian softly crowed.

Edmund took back his shredded card. "You are very talented, my dear sister."

Lucy pushed the door and it slowly opened. "Remember to muffle any noise."

The three of them crowded in and Edmund shut the door.

"I'll just get…"

The sound of a pair of hands clapping was terrifying. Caspian gasped and Edmund swore.

Thrice Damned.

A single light blossoming from a lantern revealed Tumnus, sitting in the exact same place as earlier in the day, behind the counter, blocking the way to the aconite behind him.

"Good evening, Doctor Pevensie. I was curious if you would make it inside, recalling your own skills in college. I was most amused to hear your brother concede failure."

"You rotten …"

Lucy elbowed Edmund. "Quiet!" She hoped Caspian would follow and remain silent, but even that was futile as Tumnus gave him a once over, "And I imagine your third is the person who emerged from Highgate Pond this morning. You could never turn down a mercy case or sob story."

"That was why I became a doctor, Tumnus." As you very well know..

In the pool of light the lantern cast upon the counter, Lucy saw Tumnus push a little envelope towards her. "This is what you want, isn't it? Aconite?"

"It is." She wanted to ask how he knew, but it was in his nature to rattle on and he did not disappoint.

"Your brother is the better liar. You couldn't stop staring at it this afternoon and really, Doctor, it strained my credulity that you would consider mandrake before moonstone."

"What do you want from us this time, Tumnus?" Edmund growled.

Lucy motioned with her hand for silence. Edmund would just make this worse.

"Doctor, this morning, it would have only cost you five pounds. Now, because you have inconvenienced me and made me stay up too late waiting for you, it will be twenty. Because your brother spoke, he must also magick my locks against the mechanism you used to breach my security."

"Or?"

"We already know the answer to that, Doctor Pevensie. We know what Wolfsbane and Bow-arm would make of this. Betrayal was the word, I believe."

Lucy stepped forward and took the envelope. "Can I trust you with this, Mr. Tumnus? I would like to, as I once did."

"Of course, Lucy."

Was there pain in his tone? Or just greed and opportunism? At one time, she thought she could tell. From her wallet, she withdrew a 5-pound note and the crowns she still had and slid them across the counter. I am no longer the medical student who admired you so much she thought it was love.

"I will come by after the moon to buy more ingredients and you may overcharge me then." Lucy let a long pause settle. "As you did earlier today."

He had the courtesy to not laugh. "Good evening, Doctor." He glanced at Caspian, both interested and dismissive. "I hope your illegal cure does not kill your patient and that you do not have to answer to the Crown for his murder."

They hurried out.

"Lu, I'm so sorry. I take no pleasure in …"

Edmund was right. He'd seen it all along.

"Please, Edmund, not now."

"Doctor…"

"I said not now." She angrily rubbed her face and saw tears marring her leather gloves. "Let's just go home."

"I don't want to talk about it, Edmund."

Lucy stripped off her goggles and gloves, and just let them fall to the garage floor. "I've got to get started on the cure." The aconite felt like lead in her pocket. "You both…" The words were hard, even though they shouldn't be. This was totally irrational, pointless besides, and a distraction she couldn't afford. Dead or gone. Those were the only outcomes.

"You both stay here, or sneak Caspian into your bedroom, or hide him in mine. Whatever. I don't care."

That was a lie but then Tumnus said she was a bad liar, so Edmund and Caspian surely knew. Needs must.

"Doctor…"

She didn't want to hear from Caspian but being impolite wasn't fair to him.

"Yes?"

"I seem to always be apologizing, for the inconvenience, for the risk, and now for the pain you have incurred on my behalf. For all these and more, thank you."

Handsome is as handsome does. He spoke as beautifully as he looked and Lucy found herself softening, again.

"You are welcome, Caspian. But I'd best get to it or this is all for naught."

Lucy pivoted on her toes, her duster swinging about. She hoped to make a dramatic, flouncing exit to the tunnel back to her lab but her coat fouled on Edmund who stepped in her way.

She tried to pull back, away, dodge around. "I…"

"I know, Lucy. I understand." He threw his arms around her, hugging her tightly and though tears again pricked her eyes, the sullen lump in her gut eased. "Go. Do what you must, what you do best. Come back before dusk."

It was a relief to be alone, in her lab, with her potions, ingredients, Bunsen burners, balance, vials and pipettes. Usually, the scrying glass kept up a running commentary of burbles, but she was quiet. Probably pining for Susan, the little tart.

Prepping the ingredients occupied her from sunrise to mid-morning, which she only noticed because she could see the sunlight peeking through the heavily barred windows and metal shutters of the lab.

Measure the aconite – a grain too little, and it would not work; a grain too much would kill Caspian.

Scrape the white down from the dittany leaves, use pestle to crush the leaves in the mortar to release the oils, remove the membranes with tweezers, one by one under her scope, filter the pulp, dissolve it in the solvent, weigh, weigh again.

Peel the valerian root, chop the valerian root, dry the valerian root in her kiln. Once dry, she would have to pound it to fine powder.

Grind the moonstone, try to not sneeze.

Measure out the grams of argentum - as essential as the aconite, as lethal to a Were as aconite was to a human. The balance was always trying to kill one without killing the other.

While the valerian root was drying out, and with the lab smelling like day-old curry, Lucy returned the tins to the house, begged Cook for a sandwich and tea, thought about a nap, and opted for more tea. Realizing that it wasn't just the lab that smelled of curry (and dirt, burner fuel, sweat, and dumplings), she also changed into clean clothes.

Peter and Susan, Cook reported, had been gone since dawn and wouldn't be back until the sun rose tomorrow morning. Then, her work would begin, finding and trying to heal the newly bitten. Again. Every month, the same, since Christmas Eve, seven years ago when a portal opened in Piccadilly, and Were-wolves poured out of it. Their parents were bitten that first night and died six months later, executed by the Crown as incurable Weres.

Needs must. The sun had risen high and bright in the midday sky and was now sliding downward and would disappear on the western horizon. It was time to finish this.

The valerian root had dried, so she ground it into a fine powder, sifted it, ground it again, and then weighed it.

"Edmund?" This time, he responded on the Farnsworth immediately.

"He's ready whenever you are," Edmund replied to her unasked question. From the background noise, he was in a public place, probably setting up more wards, and so was also being vague.

"Thank you. I will see you in the morning. May the King protect you."

"Better to rely on our family for protection. I've erected wards all around the garage; only you can get in or out. Anyone – anything - else will get walloped unconscious for two days. Good luck."

The brewing process, she knew by heart but consulted her published monograph anyway, adding each ingredient to the dittany solution, heating it until it dissolved, stirring counter-clockwise, always counter-clockwise. The aconite came last, added a grain at a time, waiting 30 seconds, and then adding another grain until the solution turned from greenish sludge to silvery opalescence. Sometimes it was as few as four grains, or as many as seven. More than seven and there was no point for the solution was too toxic and would kill a human before the Were could die. Sometimes, despite her best efforts, the solution never turned – she didn't know why.

At five grains, the solution turned to silver. Lucy burst out, "Thank you!" to the gods and the scrying glass. She carefully poured the solution into the waiting vials, already chilled, and stoppered them. It was time.

Edmund had magicked the complex Were holding pen in the garage. It consisted of a steel bar cage within a larger containment of silver bars, spikes, and netting. The steel cage was meant to contain a Were for the night but if they broke through, they would kill themselves trying to escape the silver trap.

Caspian was sitting on the floor of the cage reading a book. He climbed to his feet as she entered the garage. Lucy felt the tingly resistance of the ward. Edmund was not taking any chances. She could usually pass through a ward without even noticing it.

"The Complete Works of William Shakespeare?"

"Edmund suggested it as an example of one of the greatest works of your culture." Caspian paused. "Though, in retrospect, it was perhaps not the best choice."

"I prefer Jane Austen myself." She handed him the first vial through the bars. "Start with this one."

He reached for the potion, but grazed the silver bars and jerked back, stung. "It seems…"

"Yes, it has worsened even over the last day. We've started none too soon."

She reached through both layers of barred protection and handed the vial to him.

"How many do I take?"

"Regrettably, as many as you can until you fear you will be ill. The more, the better. Did Edmund explain what you can expect?"

Was that a faint blush?

"Yes. My apologies in advance." He downed the first vial with nary a grimace.

"Everyone reacts differently, Caspian. This is painful, physically and psychologically. If the Cure works, it is worth whatever momentary embarrassment, which you will not remember and which I will make a point of forgetting."

Truly, Lucy did not remember what her patients ranted. She did remember every agonizing scream and furious howl, and each gurgle of bloody, excruciating death when the Cure couldn't save but killed instead.

She handed him the next vial. And five more.

Caspian was starting to look a little green, which was good. "Deep breaths. One more? Hold your nose and the smell might not bother you as much."

"What happens if I get sick?"

"I'm afraid we do this all over again. It's bitter tasting, I know. Nothing for it."

He made another, adorable pouting face, but took the vial through the cage; his fingers brushing hers. Warm. Maybe not too warm. Maybe this would work. Maybe she wouldn't kill him.

"I don't suppose we could add milk and sugar?"

"Unfortunately, no. Unless you are fond of explosions." She omitted that, given the amount he had already consumed, it would be an internal explosion and his innards would be splattered all over the cage.

He raised the potion to his full lips, gagged a little, but managed to push through it and swallow the last. His pupils were already dilating and his breathing had become more labored. Sweat was beginning to bead on his brow and neck. She took the last vial from him and withdrew it through the bars.

"Well done, Caspian. Now, why don't you hand me that book?" Anything in the cage would be torn apart.

He proffered the book but then eagerly sought her hand, trying to lace her fingers in his own and pull her arm through the bars. His palms were warm and sweaty. He stared at her, earnestly, intently, and tried to raise her hand to his lips. "Lucy, I… You should…"

Lucy quickly pulled her hand back and withdrew, well out of reach. She clutched the book across her front. She would not risk touching him again until he was cured, or dead. "It's the potion, Caspian. This feeling of longing? It's one of the side effects. It's not real."

"But from the moment we met, I…"

"No. Truly, it's nothing but the Cure. It's the Were in you, trying to escape the poison. It's going to hurt and its going to make you feel things that belong to the Were, not you."

Not wholly true, but it didn't matter. He would die or he would leave.

His face contorted in an angry snarl. Usually, her patients would hurl epithets. Caspian spun about and retreated to the far side of the cage, throwing himself at the bars, then yelping as he touched the silver.

Lucy backed further away, set the book down, and wrapped herself in the cloak he'd worn barely a day ago in the sidecar. It still had a lovely smell of water and grass that was nothing like the gardens and parks of Londontown.

Caspian slapped his hands against the metal bars and the cage rattled. It would hold, though. Edmund knew how to build them; no one had ever escaped. Several of their patients had died in them.

"What did you mean about Shakespeare not being a good choice?"

He shrugged, looking petulant, and began pacing, flicking away froth and spittle from his mouth.

"I'd thought the first one, of the two lovers who kill themselves, was awful."

"Romeo and Juliet was one of his first plays, and very much a tragedy."

"They loved each other. Why couldn't they be together?" Caspian angrily dashed tears from his eyes and stalked away to the far corner of the cage.

Settling in the overstuffed armchair Edmund had magicked for her felt so odd. You had the sense of it not being altogether there, as if you were trying to sit down only to have the chair pulled away from you. She pulled the cloak more tightly around her. It was real; it smelled real. The chair had no smell at all.

"He killed my father."

Lucy looked up. Caspian had already torn at his shirt and his hands, looking more like claws, gripped the bars. When he spoke, his words were slurred and slathering, for his teeth had elongated and sharpened. He was turning, but not completely, for as the Were emerged under the rising full moon, the potion killed it, agonizing piece by piece. It was like dying by gnawing off your digits and limbs, one by one.

"Who did?"

"Like in the play, Hamlet. My uncle killed my father. Didn't marry my mother though, the whore."

She wasn't sure if he was referring to his own mother or Gertrude in the play.

"Killed all my father's men, sent them away, they never came back."

Caspian had said nothing about why he had been exiled and targeted. Or anything about his uncle except that he had usurped Caspian's own crown and tried to murder him. "I'm so sorry, Caspian. What an awful thing for you."

"Dead. Dead. Dead" Caspian howled. "He killed them! He killed them all! I'll murder him! Cut his head off like I did that Were. I'll drink his blood! Shred his sneering wife! Throw their son off the tower and eat him!"

Caspian's claws clutched and scratched the bars. He shook the cage, snarling in rage, chanting "Kill, kill, kill."

Lucy curled into the chair and burrowed more deeply into the robe, inhaling the woodsy, clean scent. She wrapped her arms around her head and began humming and rocking to drown out the din. The ranting went on. His howls mingled with the shrieks and screams rising outside.

Weres owned Londontown tonight, galloping down the roads and across the parks and greens, biting or killing, senseless to the human beings they had been only hours before. In her mind's eye, she saw Wolfsbane, savagely blinded in one eye, deadly and scarred, raising Rhindon, dripping in blood and silver, and slicing down, to kill, and to save. Bow-Arm was beside him, unerringly aiming and shooting at the dark shadows that screeched and then were silenced when her poisoned arrows found a home. She never missed.

His howls became sobs. "Dead, dead, dead… Oh Aslan, why."

She could offer no comfort, no succor. To approach him now, in the agonizing throes of an aborted transformation, was to be bitten or killed herself. If she could save Caspian, she had already done so and the Were within him was dying. If she had killed both man and Were, there was nothing she could do but wait until both died, in poisoned agony or tearing himself to savage pieces.

"Help me, please. Lucy, please, help me. I'm dying. Make it stop." She heard him rattle the cage again and then throw himself on the floor. Then again, and again.

Lucy pulled the cloak over her head and crammed plugs in her ears. When humming couldn't drown out his ghastly pain, she began to sing the lullaby her mother had sung.

Though I roam a minstrel lonely
All through the night
My true harp shall praise sing only
All through the night
Love's young dream, alas, is over
Yet my strains of love shall hover
Near the presence of my lover
All through the night

Hark, a solemn bell is ringing
Clear through the night
Thou, my love, art heavenward winging
Home through the night
Earthly dust from off thee shaken
Soul immortal shalt thou awaken
With thy last dim journey taken
Home through the night

"Lucy?"

Her name. Someone was calling.

"Yes?! I'm here!"

She had to dig out from under the cloak and remove the ear plugs. She looked around. "Caspian?!"

Lucy slid out of the armchair and stumbled to the cage. "Caspian? Can you hear me?"

He was lying in a bloody, ragged heap on the cage floor but was in human form and was breathing. She could see his chest rising and falling.

A long, painful groan. "Doctor?" Caspian rolled over and sat up. His eyes widened, suddenly fearful and he rocked back.

"What? What is it?"

"Lucy! We're here! Can you lower the ward?"

She whipped her head around. Edmund was standing in the passage from the lab.

And Peter and Susan were with him.

She turned slowly to face them, putting herself between the Were-Hunters and Caspian. "I don't know, Edmund. Should I? Are either of you going to kill him?"

"If he's not a Were, then of course not," Susan replied.

Peter nudged Susan. "And even if he is, we'll not do it without discussion. We're not murderers, Lucy."

She hurried over to the ward's invisible barrier and put her hand out. The tingling feel was still very strong – Edmund had taken no chances.

"Drop."

There was a little flare of pain and then cool air rushed into the garage. Susan was the first across the threshold and swept her into a tight hug. "Oh, Lucy, please don't ever do this again!"

"What happened? How did you find out?"

Edmund shook his head. "It wasn't me. They both pounced on me this morning before I'd even had a cup of coffee and dragged me down here, with me complaining the whole time I had no idea what they were talking about."

"Oh, Lucy, how do you think we learned of it?" Susan hugged her again.

"The scrying glass wouldn't leave off," Peter said, sounding and looking very irritated. But he added his own, warm embrace and kissed the top of her head.

"That fickle little…"

"Shhh!" Edmund scolded. "Your threats about pouring burnt sludge in her are probably why she ratted us out to Peter and Su."

Susan sounded a disapproving tut. "Tumnus also tried to extort us for another 20 pounds, which was so tiresome."

"But…"

"Oh we just sent him packing," Peter said. "Told him that he should mind his own business, and stay out of ours, and if he crossed us again, he'd be explaining to the Crown Prosecutor just where he was getting all those specialized ingredients he's so fond of."

"Attempted blackmail of a Were-Hunter is illegal, too," Susan added.

"But…"

Susan patted her cheek. "Lucy, dear, do close your mouth. We've too much to do to waste time standing about gaping like carp in a pond."

Peter took the opportunity to stalk over to the cage. Caspian had gained his feet. He was a ragged, bloody, barely clothed mess. He looked very regal. And appealing. And wholly human.

"And you, sir, are?"

"Prince Caspian, House of Telmar, rightful heir to the throne of Narnia."

"And no longer a Were, thanks to my sister's cure?"

Peter glanced at her but they could all see and feel that the Were in him was dead. "In my judgement, the Cure was successful." Lucy joined her brother at the cage. "Caspian, could you please grab the silver bars for me?"

He did so, gingerly at first. The obvious delight on his face was all the proof she needed. "It does not hurt at all!"

Edmund waved his hands and murmured something. The cages fell away with a clatter and winked out.

Caspian stepped forward eagerly and took her hands in his. "Doctor, thank you so much. I am forever in your service." He nodded to Edmund. "And you, Mage. Thank you both."

He obviously didn't have much modesty. He was practically bare and seemed completely unconcerned with it. Not that Lucy minded. She was a physician, after all.

Edmund jerked his head in the direction of the garage's water closet. "Your clothes are in there. Get yourself ready. It's time to send you home."

Regrettable, but necessary.

"Yes, about that. Caspian, first, a question, if you would," Peter injected. For a dread moment, Lucy was worried her brother would draw his sword but Peter was thoughtful, not fierce. "Edmund told us a little, but could you please explain more of how you came to be bitten?"

"My uncle inserted a Were into my camp. She sought me out and bit me. I killed her."

"How?"

"With my sword and…"

"No, Peter means, how did she come to Narnia?" Susan asked, coming to stand next to Peter. This all suddenly felt like Were Ministry business. Susan and Peter were acting very official, as if in their capacity as licensed Hunters. "Do you know?"

Caspian shook his head. "I do not. Some dark art, I suppose, though such magick is very rare in Narnia."

"And this is the first Were you know of in Narnia?"

"It is, Sir Peter. Doctor Cornelius found no records. He did say he thought that both the source and the cure were to be found here."

"And the cure you have found but what of this source?" Peter pressed. "Unanswered is how a Were came to Narnia and into the service of your uncle."

Oh. Edmund sucked in a startled breath, neatly mirroring her own surprise.

Caspian's face turned severe and frowning. "I do not know."

Peter nodded. "Just so."

"I think some pointed questions to your uncle are called for," Susan said grimly. "He may have the power to bring Weres in, or is using or being used by someone who does."

Lucy glanced at Edmund and could tell that he was as annoyed as she was. They should have thought of this earlier.

"I must return to Narnia immediately," Caspian said. He had been clinging to her, as reluctant to let go as she was. But now Caspian released her hands as if he were still a Were and she wearing silver. He dashed away, toward the water closet where Edmund had stowed his belongings. Lucy felt, again, the odd lump in her throat.

She and Edmund spoke over each other. "We should…" "He can't…"

"Of course we need to investigate," Susan put in, cutting them off. "The only real question is who can be spared here to go back with him."

"None of us can be spared, but for some it is more urgent." Peter said. "Lucy, I'm regret to say there was already a line outside your doctor's office."

It was unthinkable to leave in the days after a full moon. She should already be out treating the bitten.

"Edmund should go, at least," Lucy said, resolutely not choking on the regret. "There is surely some foul magick at the root of this."

Edmund put a gentle hand on her shoulder and squeezed. She patted his hand. "My loss, your gain, brother."

"I don't think so, Lu."

He knew. Of course he knew.

"I should like to meet this nefarious uncle and introduce him to my arrows." Susan sounded chillingly hard.

And that was that. Caspian returned, wearing again his lovely Narnian blues and greens. Even Peter was a little agog.

"You're not rid of us yet, Caspian." Edmund clapped him on the shoulder. "Su and I are going back with you."

"Thank you, my friends. I had hoped, but dared not to ask. I fear this is beyond our ken."

Peter graciously shook his hand, though Caspian did look a little askance at the Were-pelt her brother wore.

Then he took both her hands in his, again, and for the last time. "No silver rings this time, Doctor Pevensie."

Lucy slipped one hand from his and drew one of her rings from her pocket. "Would you take this one? So you will always know what you no longer are?"

And remember the one who saved you.

"I would be honoured."

She felt ridiculously pleased when he slipped it on his little finger.

Foolishness.

"I would go, too, but…"

"People here need you, Lucy."

"They do. Good-bye, Caspian."

Lucy's breath hitched as Caspian leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead. "Farewell."

Caspian released her and took Edmund's hand instead. Susan hefted her quiver over her mechanical arm and Edmund clasped her fleshed hand.

"Good hunting," Peter said, and saluted them, fist over his chest.

Susan gave him a curt nod. "May the King protect you both."

"We'll be back before you know it," Edmund said. He was excited, Lucy could see. She would be, too.

Caspian reached into his pocket; the yellow ring would there.

And they were gone.

Lucy angrily scrubbed the tears away. Peter put his arm around her. "Are you alright, Lu?"

"No. But it doesn't matter."

"No," Peter agreed. "It doesn't."

She shrugged out from her under her arm. "I need to get back to work."

Needs must. There were people to save.

The lullaby Lucy sings is excerpted from All Through The Night, a lullaby of Welsh origin written by Edward Jones around 1784.