A Prison of Ice and Fear || Peter Pevensie x OC || Narnia

Chapter 10

The river is a brilliant blue as the ice breaks apart in sheets. I haven't seen natural running water in so long I'm tempted to dive in, let the currents drag me into the below, and I wonder if my family's talent in surviving underwater favours me still.

I would have done it had I not had the sinking sensation that I would freeze.

The sounds of ice cracking echo loud in my ears, making my stomach lurch as we stand in the shadow of the great waterfall, the tallest of any waterfalls in Narnia.

And with this heat, at any moment, it could all come crashing down.

"We need to cross, now." Peter demands.

He grabs tightly to Lucy's hand and begins to shuffle down the bank.

"Don't beavers make dams?" Lucy calls.

"I'm not that fast, dear." Mr Beaver replies.

I whip my head to the waterfall as a large crack begins to spew water. There's no way we'll make it.

Peter urges again as he steps onto the ice.

"Wait, let's just think about this for a minute!" Susan pleads, staying firmly on the bank.

"We don't have a minute." Peter bites back.

"I'm just trying to be realistic."

"No, you're trying to be smart," Peter drawls, "as usual."

Susan eyes him scornfully but eventually makes her way onto the ice.

Peter glances back in my direction and stops short when he notices I'm still on the bank.

I look between the waterfall and the group, biting my lip nervously.

"Cressida, come on, we have to go now."

"You have to go; the waterfall won't hold long." I yell over the sound of the river.

"What are you talking about?"

"Go, I'll hold off the collapse as long as I can." I start to scramble up the hill.

"Cressida, stop!" Peter calls after me.

I do stop, the concern in his voice making my chest seize.

"Please don't do this, she'll catch you."

"Better me than you, Peter Pevensie." I pause, "She won't kill me, but she'll most certainly end all of you."

"You're just going to leave us?" Lucy asks, terrified.

"I hope we'll meet again; now go." I command.

I turn and clamber the rest of the way back up the bank to the top of the falls. Placing my hands firmly on the remaining wall of ice, I will my magic to flow.

I push it further than I ever have before. Water is easy to manipulate; it flows and ebbs, and it's controllable. Ice is stubborn and harsh.

The cold burns my fingers and pushes back against my magic. I can feel the cracks forming, splintering one by one.

The Pevensies and the beavers are only halfway across, and I can feel the rushing current pushing against the remaining ice and the magic I'm trying to reinforce it with.

I picture weaving a net across the ice wall, and I can see threads of light faintly shimmering beneath the water, but my magic is too weak.

The water punches holes in my net, and the glow begins to fade. I force all the energy I can into it, and as I watch them cross, my hope swells at the thought that they might well make it.

But all that hope comes crashing down.

I'm wrenched away from the ice; the moment I break contact, the river flows stronger than ever. I scream in fright and frustration as a snarl sounds next to my ear.

I hear shouts and growls from below as well. No, no, no.

The wolf drags me back from the ice, but I can still see the standoff down below.

Peter faces Maugrim, sword out. His form is shaky, and his body language screams fear. Maugrim knows it, too. Mr Beaver is locked in another wolf's jaws, and the girls stand with Mrs Beaver close behind Peter.

The wolves close in on them from all sides, and Maugrim taunts Peter.

I flick my eyes back to the wolf gripping my collar in his teeth.

He appears young and distracted. Perfect.

Before I can think better of it, I blast my magic into the wolf's face. He yelps and lets go.

Scrambling, I again grip hold of the ice and, instead of working to keep the ice in place, I force the current against the wall harder than ever.

"Peter, hold on!" I scream.

Peter looks up at me as the top of the waterfall begins to explode in a forceful torrent.

"Peter!" Lucy screams.

"Hold onto me!" Peter shouts.

Susan and Lucy grip his coat tightly as Peter drives his sword deep into the ice. A moment later, the sound of thousands of pounds of ice crumbling fills my ears as the waterfall bursts free. I hear Lucy scream once more before they're engulfed in the wave. The Beavers and the wolves washed away with them.

Suddenly, the young wolf is on me again, dragging me backwards. I pull and strain to get away, but it's no use.

Yet, as he pulls me back from the cliff edge, I catch a glimpse of three coated figures floating quickly down the river on a large slab of ice.

They made it; they're free.