AN: What's this? A chapter after like TWO YEARS or something crazy like that? But yes, indeed it is. In fact, I'm almost done writing this story! So here's my "getting back into the swing of things" chapter, with hopefully regular updates to come through the end! I can't believe some of you awesome people are still hanging around wanting to read this!

Chapter Seventeen

By sun up, Cair Paravel was a distant memory, far from view. Charlotte's arms hung at her sides like limp noodles, and her palms were bloody from popped blisters. She had severely underestimated the toll that rowing a boat through the night would take on her. As hard as she'd tried to ration the food, she'd been so sore and hungry that she'd eaten two days' ration in one go and drank as much of her freshwater. At this rate, she'd better reach Aslan's country soon or someday a boat with a tiny American skeleton in it would wash up on some shore in Narnia.

She floated for the rest of the day, though had no way of knowing how far or how fast she was going. Without a breeze, the sail was useless, but her arms refused to cooperate and so she lay in the boat, her eyes closed as the ocean rocked her for hours and hours. She alternately dozed and stared over the boat into the deep water. It was the bad kind of lonely.

The sunset was beautiful to behold and Charlotte felt a small stirring of hope within her. It was impossible not to feel the power of such beauty and magnificence. But then the sun disappeared behind the curve of endless water, and the stars came out. Even the flat, open fields of Oklahoma couldn't give such a front row seat to the stars. Charlotte sat up and felt like she floated through the night sky.

Sometime after midnight, as the moon began to sink overhead, heavy clouds rolled in. The stars were smothered out, the moonlight faded, and Charlotte soon couldn't see her hand two inches in front of her face. She lay back in the boat and felt as though she had drifted into nothingness.

Lying down as she was meant Charlotte heard before she saw. Distant at first but growing louder, she became aware of creaking and splashing, and the faintest murmur of voices. She sat up in the boat and only then noticed that her tiny dingy was floating straight towards a monstrous ship. It towered above her, a dark hulking mass in the water. The flickering, warm glow of candles danced in the windows and along the deck.

With a gasp, terrified she'd be seen, Charlotte threw herself back onto the floor and only peeped over the edge. Too late she realized that really, she was headed straight for the ship. She leapt up and slipped the oars into the water and tried to pull herself away, but her boat had already been pulled into the gravity of the ship. There was no avoiding the collision.

Charlotte had no choice but to toss herself from the boat moments before it smashed into the hull of the ship. The sound of the small rowboat splintering against the ship seemed magnified in the water as she struggled to pull herself away from the tug of the wreck. Oh, how she longed for pants, to not have wet skirts tangling around her legs! Just as panic began to rise that she wouldn't be able to get above the water, her head broke surface and she pulled deep, gasping breaths into her lungs. For all the fear and chaos of the moment, the crash didn't attract the slightest attention from the crew moving what seemed miles above her head.

This did leave her in the unfortunate predicament of being in the water now without a boat. The ship pulled her along, though thankfully not under. Her hands grabbed at the wood of the ship, scrabbling in the dark for any sort of hold. Her hand found grip on a cold iron bar, slimy from the sea. She wrapped her fingers around it and reached up with her other hand.

Charlotte had the fortunate coincidence ("there are no coincidence," Mistiana would say) to have grabbed on, in her desperation, to the only thing that could have saved her life -an iron ladder which led all the way to the ships deck. She pulled herself up just high enough to be out of the water, then clung to it, gasping for breath and stability.

She hung there for some time, until her breathing had returned to normal. She was soaked through and through, and the only thing she still had was the dagger, strapped to her belt. Her food and water were gone, her boat was gone. There was nothing left to do but board the ship.

Unsure of whose ship she might now be boarding, she climbed slowly and quietly, and only peaked over when she reached the deck railing.

What she saw made her duck back down out of sight. Her heart picked up again and she felt her skin prickle in anticipation.

In the middle of the deck was a fire that didn't burn the wood, that bounced side to side energetically. And inside the flame was a grinning mouth and two dark coal eyes.

Once the initial shock had worn off, Charlotte stretched as high as she dared to see and hear the goings-on above deck.

It was not a ship full of salamanders, for what little comfort that was. The crew running around the ship were all human. It was only the one salamander, though she couldn't tell if it was her particular demon or not.

"Can't you move any faster?" the salamander demanded of a man standing near him. In the flickering light cast by the salamander's flame, Charlotte could see the man was dressed regally, covered in frills and shiny fabrics, while the rest of the crew wore regular trousers. The captain, must be. And the voice was deeper than the salamander that haunted her.

"Unless you possess a magic to raise the wind then no, we cannot."

"We must beat him there, though," the salamander muttered, rolling around on the deck. "We must get there before she leaves…"

"I must remind you of our agreement, it seems. The queen is ours-"

"Yes, yes. It is not the queen I seek. You may do what you want with her," the salamander interrupted.

Charlotte's skin prickled again. The captains dark laugh was discomfiting, to say the least.

"It won't be long now," the captain assured the salamander. "Three days, with no wind. A day and a half if the wind will pick up."

"Excellent," the salamander grinned. WIth a bright flash, he disappeared. The deck grew instantly colder.

Charlotte continued to look around the deck, trying to get a better understanding. There were at least two dozen men that she could make out, and that would only be the ones on duty on the top deck in the middle of the night. Logically there must be just as many sleeping downstairs, if not more. And if they were in cahoots with one salamander, there must be others -other salamanders, maybe even other ships!

Mistiana's palace was in no way prepared for an attack, not a small one, and definitely not a large one. And with the end of summer here, there was no telling how soon the people would be heading out for another great game of Hide and Seek. In three days, the palace might be almost empty, leaving Mistiana wide open to attack. And the intent of the Hide and Seek games was to keep the kingdom's guard on their toes -they hadn't the least preparation for an attack from the sea!

She had to warn them, Charlotte knew. She had to get back. The question was, how?

Creaking nearby attracted her attention and Charlotte felt the slightest flicker of hope. Hanging over the side of the ship to her right was one of the small boats used to go ashore. There was no sail, but no wind anyway. Just oars.

Charlotte felt herself getting a second wind.

The timing had to be just right. After all, stealing a boat from the deck of a busy ship, even at night, was no easy feat. What she needed was a distraction, and fast, before the sun rose and robbed her of the cover of darkness. She pulled herself up onto the deck and crouched behind a trio of crates roped down. She considered pushing those into the water on the opposite side of the boat, but leaning her whole weight against them didn't elicit even the slightest movement.

There was another boat across the deck, and that's when she hatched her plan. It was the only way on such short notice! She waited a few moments more until any sailors near her had wandered away, then darted across the deck. The small boat, thankfully, was already attached to the pulley system used to lower it to the water -perhaps there had recently been a fishing expedition? Charlotte glanced around quickly to make sure no one was watching, then quickly hacked away at the ropes holding the boat in the air over the water. When the first rope came away, the boat rattled, but by alternating between the ropes, she was able to keep the boat from crashing down until she was good and ready. After cutting the third rope, the fourth tore away on its own and the boat crashed to the water below with a loud squealing of the pulleys, roar of the rope, and heavy thud onto the water.

Without hesitating a second, Charlotte ducked into the shadows and scrambled back across the ship, even before the heard the first voice call, "Hullo, what's kthat?" By the time a flurry of footfalls rushed to the side of the ship to peer over, she was already at work on the first boat she had seen. This one was smaller than the other, it seemed, and not entirely over the water. She hadn't thought about getting this one safely down by herself, a job usually managed probably by several men. There wasn't a second to hesitate though. She'd have to hope for the best and figure out a second plan if it didn't work.

Grateful for the unworldly sharpness of her knife, Charlotte again sawed away at the ropes, which had been done up in such intricate sailors knots she didn't even attempt to untie them on her own. She could hear the commotion behind her back as the men argued over who had to go down to get the boat, which was still attached to the ship by its rope and pulley system but needing to be hauled up from below. Charlotte worked more quickly, using the shelter of the crates to her advantage so that she could hack the ropes much higher this time without having to crouch down low to stay hidden.

The last rope of the second boat game away with a crack, and the small boat fell, hit the side of the ship, and tumbled into the water. Charlotte couldn't wait to see if the boat had landed properly, or upside down, or even shattered on its way down. Grabbing the single rope that clung still to its pulley, she gave it a sharp yank to free the small boat from its mother ship completely, then vaulted in after it.

The drop to the water was far enough to take her breath away before she even hit the black surface. Holding her skirts tightly to her legs, she slid nearly silently into the water and was instantly enveloped in the cold and dark. She forced down the panic that rose at the back of her throat -anything could be in the water with her, or the ship could knock her and she'd down, or a sailor could have enough of this nonsense and jump in to see what was going on. Instead, she focused on counting, holding her breath for as long as she could before peeking above the surface. This was the most dangerous moment of all, because if the crew were looking down at the boat, she'd be easily spotted.

As luck would have it, she surfaced very near to the boat, and on the opposite side of it to the ship so that, even with a few of the crew arguing and pointing at it, no one could see her small face above the water. She grabbed at an oar that floated nearby and silently lifted it into the boat, then circled quietly around to the prow, for the partial rope that still dangled there. This she grabbed and began slowly tugging away from the ship, her eyes trained the whole time on that increasingly distant deck, her ears perked for any sign she'd been spotted. But none came as the men bickered over who should be the one to dive in. None did.

For as long as she could stand it, Charlotte pulled the boat, until she had convinced herself that sharks lurked just below the surface. When she gasped for the umpteenth time, certain something had just brushed her leg, she decided she'd had enough and hauled herself into the boat. She stripped from her soaking wet dress and set it out to dry under the sun that was just beginning to peak over the horizon. Clad now only in her shift, but blessed with two oars, the rising sun, and all the energy that adrenaline can bring, Charlotte threw her back into rowing.

She rowed until the skin had all but scraped off her hands, and the sun overhead scorched her face, and she found herself dizzy with thirst. There was nothing for it but to drape her dress, now dry and stiff with salt, over her face and huddle in the bottom of the boat and try to get some rest. She couldn't row another stroke, not a one, but felt certain she could regain some strength with just a small rest.

When she awoke, the sun was gone, the moon was fading into or out of view, and a shot of fear stabbed her heart. How long had she slept? What if it had been days? What if she was too late? She reached for her oars only to wince at the pain and drop them. Her fingers could barely move beneath the blisters. Still, she had to move somehow, otherwise the ship would beat her to Cair Paravel and then was the point of her even trying?

She turned to see if she could make out even the faintest trace of land yet.

"It's not possible," she gasped, rubbing at her eyes, convinced it was a mirage. But still it was there, Cair Paravel, looming high overhead as the moon began her passage across the sky. Charlotte could make out the lanterns being lit around the grounds, the drapes being closed against the cooling night. Probably Mistiana had already finished her supper and now taken her spot on a veranda to watch the shift from night to day. Perhaps she was alone, or perhaps Dmetri had taken the hint and joined her.

Still, it wasn't possible. She had no sail, she hadn't been rowing. The current must have caught her, a strong one, and yet she didn't see the ship behind her. Strong enough to push her little boat along, but not the ship. Very fortunate.

Not wishing to waste a minute trying to make sense of it, Charlotte shoved herself over the edge of the boat and swam for shore. It was a short-sighted solution; the salt water hitting her ragged palms made her scream. That was fortunate in its own right, though, because some fishermen on the shore were alerted to her presence and hurried to quickly pull her from the water.

"What in Aslan's name-"

"Say, aren't you the Queen's friend?"

"Yes!" Charlotte cried, panting from the exertion of swimming. She squeezed the water from her hair, then demanded, "I need to speak with the queen immediately."

Mistiana was, as Charlotte had anticipated, on the veranda. Charlotte heard the male voice from down the path as a guard escorted her. From fishermen escort to guard, no one seemed quite willing to set Charlotte loose in the palace grounds without accompaniment and, with the impending attack, she thought such cautions well-timed.

"Please cheer up, my queen. She's gone home, and you mustn't let your heart break over-"

"But why couldn't she have said goodbye?" Mistiana sighed. "It's very unlike her to just disappear into the night. What if she was taken?"

The male voice assured the unseen Mistiana, "And left notes for us both? I find that highly unlikely."

"But-"

Charlotte decided this was as good a time to interrupt as any and called out as she ran the last couple of steps up to the veranda, "Mistiana, I've returned!"

Mistiana and Dmetri both jumped to their feet at the sudden appearance of the very girl they'd been speaking of. Dmetri just started while Mistiana threw herself forward and wrapped her arms around Charlotte.

"My dear!" she cried. "You are sodden! And your gown is all mis-laced and just filthy and- where have you been? Why did you go-"

"That's not important right now," Charlotte interrupted, grabbed Mistiana's arms to force her to focus. "What's important is why I came back. There's a ship headed this way to attack. They're under the guidance of a salamander, and I think there may be more salamanders about."

"A ship?" Mistiana repeated.

"At least three dozen men on board, and at least one salamander. The salamander is coming for me, though I couldn't tell you why, but the men mean to take you."

"My queen, there's no time to waste," Dmetri stepped forward. The promise of danger had quickly stirred him to action, and he hummed with the energy that had been driving Charlotte since the ship, the anticipation of a clash and the understanding that much needs to be done.

Mistiana gave Charlotte a loving squeeze, then turned a somber face to the guards and Dmetri.

"Prepare for an attack by sea," Mistiana commanded, and the palace burst to life.