Will Briar begin a new era of witches, or will history repeat itself? Either way, Edmund won't be tricked twice.
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"If I perish, I perish. You can take my life, but you can't take my will." In which a girl born of Narnia's two greatest adversaries...
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The trial wasn't going well.
"Kill her!" One of the centaurs pointed sharply to Briar.
She was on her feet at once.
Try, she dared him, hoping her gaze burned holes into his skin. He stared back, unflinching. Instinctively, she drew her dagger as an approval echoed around them. Reepicheep and his company immediately swarmed around her skirts, swords drawn.
"Best keep those under wraps," Reep said. "We don't want to provoke them further."
It took all of Briar's willpower to sheath it.
"Telmarines!"
"Liar!"
"Murderers!" a high-pitch voice shrieked next to her.
"All this horn proves is they've stolen yet another thing from us," a stout dwarf with eyes and hair the color of granite surged through the crowd. Through the mist of gray in his beard, his mouth was upturned in a sneer. He pointed a jaunty finger at Caspian.
"I didn't steal anything," Caspian defended. Despite his decent opening of the meeting, things had unwound alarmingly fast.
"Didn't steal anything?" The minotaur that had grabbed Briar's wrist the previous morning swung an axe at the air angrily. "Shall we list the things the Telmarines have taken?"
A chorus of agreement rose from the crowd as they stirred.
Briar watched in dismay as Windmane, next to a silent Glenstrom, raised her sword and let out a cry, "Our home!"
"Our land!"
"Our freedom!" accused a scraggly, blond faun; he was glaring at her.
She stared back at him, dumbstruck. Would the Narnians truly take the blame out on them? They had barely been alive long enough to hear the last rumors of their existence, and the foreign nation was ready to burn them at the stake for something they didn't do. Amongst the outcry, Briar also heard someone accuse them both of stealing Narnia.
Stealing Narnia?
"We didn't steal anything!" she protested to the surrounding folk.
Around her were a few dwarves, one of them female. They had only murmured to each other during the entire meeting, and a few had their weapons close. Briar couldn't tell their loyalties, but they, along with others, looked unsure. A few fauns, who appeared more goat-like than human, shook their heads.
They don't believe me, she realized, but they don't believe him, either.
Maybe there was hope.
Her insides lurched and the hilts of her knives became sweaty and cold from her palms. Her place by the base of a large, ancient tree was in the most sparce section of the circular gathering. Yet, the protest was still overwhelming. Exasperated, she stood helplessly and watched as Caspian faced the growing mob of mythical creatures; he looked stunned.
