Disclaimer: The Pevensies and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me. Similarly, Oreius belongs to Disney or Walden Media or whoever thought him up. Again, that person was not me. I own only a devious mind.

THREE DROPS OF BLOOD

Part One

Lightning cracked, illuminating the lashing rain, making their upturned faces stark white for a startled moment, and then leaving them in hearth-and-candle-lit dimness as the thunder crashed after it. The wind moaned and howled through the turrets and through the dark forest beyond the walls of Cair Paravel, and there was an almost-winter chill in the air.

Edmund smirked. Lucy was pressed close to Peter as they sat there before the fire, huddled under his arm with her little fingers twisted into his tunic.

"What a storm," Edmund said, feeling something of the wildness of the night running through his own veins. "You know, Lu, I bet it was on a night like this that Princess Raine was taken by the Nameless Horror."

"Stop it, Edmund," Susan said from Peter's other side, her lips pursed. "You've been teasing Lucy with that story for days now. It's not funny."

"But it's true," Edmund protested, making his eyes wide and innocent. "I read it in one of those really old books in the library."

He chuckled to himself when, at another clap of thunder, Lucy ducked her head against Peter's shoulder, and Susan moved closer to Peter as well, her blue eyes round and her lips trembling despite her scowl.

"You're just making it up, Edmund," she said sternly. "What was this Nameless Horror anyway?"

"Well, if they knew that, it wouldn't be nameless, would it." He saw a glimmer of laughter in Peter's eyes and forced himself not to laugh, too, instead keeping his face a picture of innocent concern. "I just wanted you girls to know about it. You know, so you won't be its next victim. When you're alone in the middle of the night and everything. I won't tell you what it did to Princess Raine, but when her father found her body, his hair turned pure white. Overnight. And they say the Princess herself still walks the corridors of Cair Paravel, driving mad any who see her ghost."

Keeping his eyes on them, he slipped his hand down to his hip under cover of the table where he sat and, with a subtle movement of his dagger, made a loud, slow scraping noise against the wood.

"What was that?" he gasped.

Lucy's eyes filled with tears. "Peter, I'm scared."

Peter hugged her close and gave Edmund a look that told him pretty clearly that he'd better cut it out. Then he kissed her hair.

"It's all right, Lu. You know Eddie likes to tease."

"There are no ghosts in Narnia," Susan snapped, and now she was hold ing onto Peter's arm. "There are wraiths and goblins and boggles and efreets and all kinds of other horrible things, but no ghosts. So just stop talking about it, Edmund. You're not funny."

"Pardon me, My Queen." Oreius, the Centaur General, made a slight bow from the far side of the hearth. "But there are ghosts in Narnia. At least there were."

Again the lightning flashed, leeching the color from his dark skin, making his dark eyes albino white and eerily unfamiliar. The boom of thunder covered the soft clop of his hooves as he moved closer to the Kings and Queens.

"I do not wish to frighten any of you, but perhaps it is best you do know the true story of Princess Raine."

Edmund rolled his eyes. "Don't be silly, Oreius. There isn't a true story of Princess Raine. I just made her up."

Oreius merely gave him a disdainful, "you foolish colt" look, and Edmund bit his lip.

"Didn't I?"

"Perhaps you read something about her some while ago and forgot about it, My King, and then remembered the name later and borrowed it for your story."

Edmund considered for a moment. He didn't remember reading anything about this Princess. But he had read a great many old books in the two years since they'd been here in Narnia, and he wasn't really sure now where he'd gotten the name Raine. Made it up, he'd thought until tonight.

"And just what is this true story?" he asked with a stubborn lift of his chin.

"I have heard it from my father's father," said the Centaur, "who had it from his father's father. They say Raine was the great-granddaughter of the first King Frank and his Queen Helen. She was the youngest in her family and the apple of her father's eye. When she was but fifteen, little older than our well-loved Queen Susan, she was pursued by a lecherous old Duke, a man who had already married three times only to have each of his wives die under mysterious and horrifying circumstances. When he sought the hand of the Princess Raine, her father refused to even hear his suit, knowing the man was not fit for any decent woman, much less his own darling child. So the Duke waited."

"Waited for what?" Edmund half-whispered when no one else spoke

"For the cover of night and wind and rain," Oreius said, the crash and boom of lightning and thunder punctuating his words. "That night, in a storm as wild as this one, the Duke crept into Cair Paravel meaning to steal away the Princess as she slept. But the instant she felt his touch, she leapt out of bed, calling for her guard, telling the Duke she thought him vile and repulsive and that she would never have him. 'Then, dear Princess,' he said, 'you shall never have anyone else.' And before she could even say her prayers, he took his dagger and plunged it into her heart, leaving her dead there on her bedchamber floor."

"Oh, horrible," Susan breathed, and Oreius nodded.

"Three nights later, the Duke, sitting in the King's dungeon, awaiting execution for his foul crime, was heard to make a terrible wailing howl that was abruptly cut short. It took the guards but a moment to open the cell door, but when they did, they found the Duke had vanished, leaving behind him only one velvet glove stained with three drops of blood."

The lightning forked across the sky and again the thunder rolled.

"But where had he gone?" Peter asked. "He couldn't have escaped, could he?"

"I think not, High King," the Centaur said, his face grave. "For he was never again seen, but it was not so for the Princess. It is said that she is seen every fifty years, walking the corridors. Seeking her next victim."

Oreius did not say more. Peter and Lucy and Susan were perfectly still, their round eyes fixed on him. Edmund merely studied him, waiting for him to laugh and say he, too, had been making up stories, but Oreius only looked at him, the firelight casting foreboding shadows over the hard planes of his face. Oreius never joked.

Edmund crossed his arms over his chest. "And why would she do that? Especially if she already had her revenge on the Duke. That's a stupid story, Oreius. Your grandfather and his grandfather should have known better than to repeat such rubbish."

"My King–"

"Edmund's right, Oreius," Susan said, getting to her feet. "You shouldn't repeat such lurid tales. I don't want to hear any more about it. Come on, Lucy. It's time we both went to bed."

Lucy still clung to her oldest brother and chief protector. "No. Please, Peter, I'm scared. I want to stay with you." Her lower lip trembled. "Please."

Peter looked helplessly at Susan. "It's okay, Su. I'll make sure she gets to bed in just a little while."

For a moment, Susan said nothing, her mouth tight with annoyance, and then she huffed. "Fine. I'm tired."

"Are you sure you should go alone?" Lucy asked, a tell-tale quaver in her voice, and Susan gave her a stern look.

"Lucy, nothing is going to get me. That story was only a story, like the silly one Edmund told us. Now I'm going to bed, and I expect you all ought to as well."

"Perhaps I should send a guard along with you, My Queen," Oreius offered.

Susan shook her head. "I thought most of them had gone to the Harvest Festival tonight. Besides, it's not fifty feet down the corridor to my room. Thank you, but I'll be fine."

"Goodnight, Su," Peter said.

Edmund smirked. "Look out for Princess Raine."

Susan gave him a poisonous smile and then strode to the door, starting when, just as she touched the latch, the thunder and lightning roared again. Then she straightened her shoulders.

"Goodnight."

Once she had shut the door behind her, Peter turned to Oreius. "I don't know if you should have told her that one, Oreius. Not after she had so much trouble with that Terebinthian lord she had to turn down last month."

"I did not like to tell her, High King," Oreius admitted, his voice grave, "but I thought, especially on such a night, she ought to know. You all should know and be wary."

Edmund narrowed his eyes at the Centaur. "Why this night?"

"The storm, My King. The Princess Raine is always seen on nights when the wind howls and the storm rages. And since the last time she was seen, it has been–"

A shriek split the night, and Peter and Edmund both leapt to their feet.

"Susan!" Peter cried.

Edmund dashed after him, down the corridor and to Susan's room. Lucy and Oreius were right behind.

"Susan!" Peter pounded on the door and then threw it open. "Susan, what–"

Lightning illuminated the dark room, showing it empty except for a strip of white velvet from Susan's dress, stained with three drops of blood.

Author's Note: Well here it is, my very first Narnian Halloween story. I hope you'll let me know what you think and if you want me to go on. Many, MANY thanks to Lady Alambiel for brainstorming brilliance and for virtual cookies.