Peter knew they shouldn't be riding as hard as they were. It had been a long, tiring battle—facing off with the Giants of the north always was—and he was exhausted beyond reason. All he wanted to do was get home; Susan needed him, especially after the fiasco that occurred in Tashbaan, and he hadn't heard from Ed or Lucy yet on how things went at Anvard.

Peter knew they shouldn't be riding as hard as they were but he needed to get home, and they were close. They'd reach the Cair before nightfall. So, he rode hard, eager to make it there. He wasn't the only one. The Narnians were just as eager to get home as he was. So long as they continued to ride hard and steady then so would he.

There was a commotion up ahead. The Eagle's squawked and circled down. Jagar, his trusted Guard and friend, pinned his ears to his head and crouched low while Orieus and a few Fauns closed rank around him.

"What's going on?" Peter asked.

"The scouts have spotted a woman in the forest," Orieus replied.

Peter could hear the soft hum of conversation but he could not make out the words. "Does she appear to be a threat?"

"It is unknown, Sire. She does not answer Deos or Brak."

"Jagar?"

The Cheetah sniffed the air but did not relax his stance. "She is frightened, my King, and she does not trust the good Fauns."

"Frightened? Yes I am sure she is frightened. But is she a threat?"

"It is difficult to say without closer inspection, my King," the Cheetah said through his barred teeth.

"Well then, let us inspect closer."

Peter slid from the saddle of his steed and handed the reins to one of the Fauns for safe keeping. With Jagar ahead of him and Orieus at his side, he approached the front of the convoy where two young Fauns were talking to an obviously frightened woman.

Peter called out to them in a friendly greeting and offered his assistance. The woman's eyes flew to him at once. She looked at him in a most curious manner. Her colorless eyes raked over him; her head tilted to the side as they finally met his gaze.

"Peter?"

She sounded confused, but she couldn't be as confused as Peter felt. She looked as though he ought to know her, but he didn't. Peter wasn't quite sure how to respond. He could feel the eyes of the other Narnians on him as he stood silently trying to place where he might have met the woman. He came up empty.

The woman took an involuntary step towards him only to have the way swiftly blocked against her. Jagar crouched to the ground. Peter could hear the soft roll of a snarl forming in the Cheetah's gut. The woman seemed almost unfazed.

"Peter, what is this? What are you doing here? How...how is this even possible? Where are we?" she asked, her eyes desperate for an answer.

Peter wasn't given the chance to respond; Brak did it for him.

"You are in Narnia, and you are speaking to the High King. You will address him as such."

The woman responded in a foreign tongue Peter didn't know and looked at Brak with disgust and hatred so deep Peter had never seen the likes of it before. Even the Calormenes weren't brazen enough to show such disdain towards a Narnian while in the presence of one of their monarchs before. The fur of Jagar's back bristled with the affront to a fellow Narnian.

"I know we're in Narnia," the woman continued. "But this...this isn't possible. We're not supposed to be here." She sounded on the verge of tears.

Her breath began to come in uneven little gasps and Peter recognized the tell-tell sign for what it was. He knew in her mind she was no longer in a forest under a light canopy of trees along the road to Cair Paravel; she was somewhere else entirely. Peter couldn't say where, nor did he wish to hazard a guess. She placed a hand over her chest and slowly seemed to ease her way out of whatever dark tunnel she nearly fell victim to. When she spoke again, her voice was much weaker than before.

"Peter...Peter, it's me. It's Ileana, your sister-in-law."

Peter cocked his head and furrowed his brow. The woman was clearly mistaken and confused. Peter was sure he would have remembered meeting someone who so openly despised Narnians, and he was quite positive that his brother had not taken a wife while in Calormen. Jagar was now issuing a rather consistent snarl.

"I'm sorry, Ileana did you say? There has been some mistake; we haven't had the pleasure of meeting yet." He used the word 'pleasure' in a rather loose sense. It was hard to keep one's sense of propriety when facing open hatred to one's people.

She shook her head and even from a distance Peter could see the shimmer of tears. "No, don't do this, Peter. Don't act like I'm nothing to you." She looked away and bit her lip. "Ed! Where's your brother? Is he here too? He can put an end to this! Please, I...I need to see him."

Edmund, he recalled. Though he was still positive that Ed had taken a wife while in Calormen, Peter tried to recall if perhaps his brother had ever mentioned an Ileana in their recent letters. Or past letters. Or any letter for that matter, but nothing came to mind.

When Peter didn't respond, Ileana began muttering in that foreign language again. Her words, though foreign were somehow strangely familiar to him. Orieus shuffled a hoof next to him; Peter looked around at the other Narnians. He could see their unease growing with every frantic word she muttered. He took a step closer to her, his hands held up with his palms facing out. Jagar followed closely, ears pinned to his head and his sharp incisors on full display.

"My good Lady, you are making my friends uneasy. Please, speak only our common tongue," Peter said gently but with unmistakable authority.

Ileana looked at him with eyes round like saucers. Her long hair, a somewhat muted brown as though it too had lost all pigmentation, was thin and stringy as it fell around her oval face. She stood maybe four inches shorter than him with her back straight and her shoulders squared, despite whatever pain it seemed to cause her. Her eyes were set into deep sockets. Her cheeks were hollow, and her pale skin pulled tightly over her arms. She looked frail and thin, an illusion of death. But she stood proud and strong and Peter knew she must have been a great beauty once.

"You...You really have no idea who I am, do you?" she asked sadly.

"I'm sorry; I do not."

Ileana wiped a hand under her eyes. "Tell me this then, how many times have you been to this world?"

"How many times?" Peter was confused by the question. Hadn't he always been here? He thought back to his coronation day, when the Great Lion crowned him High King of Narnia. How long ago was that? What was he before his reign began?

"This is the thirteenth year of our reign," he said.

"Thirteen... So what year does that make this?"

"Why, it is the year 1013. Why do you ask for the year?"

"Ten...ten...Tha—that's not poss...possible."

Ileana's breaths were uneven again. She grasped at her chest gasping and wheezing, but she was unable to regain the control she needed. She swayed on her feet. Peter could see her eyes roll to the back of her head. He surged forward on instinct alone and caught her before her head hit the ground.

"Mamma!"

A young child ran from behind a bush and rushed to Ileana's body. She cried over her mother and begged her to wake up, but Ileana did not stir. Another girl, several years older, emerged from the bush as well. She looked around with wide eyes of wonder and skepticism. Her eyes fell on Peter last of all, before turning down to the woman in his arms.

"She has only fainted," Peter said. "We have healers back at the castle who can care for her better there. Will you allow us to tend to her?"

The girl looked at Peter and nodded slowly. "Sara. Sara." She took the younger girl's hand and pulled her back. "Mamma is sleeping. We must let her rest."

The sobbing girl rubbed her eyes, smearing dirt across her face. "Ma-ma is sleeping?" she asked between her hiccups.

"Yes," her sister replied. "You know how she loves her naps. Uncle Peter will tend to her now. Won't you?" the girl turned to look at Peter.

"I..." Rather than answer the girl, Peter turned to call orders over his shoulder. "Deos, Brak, make room in the cart for our guests. They will ride to the Cair with us." The two Fauns bowed their heads and hurried to do as commanded. "I need the fastest flyer to me at once." Within seconds Peter had a flock of birds at his feet. "Fly to the Cair, all of you. Inform the Queen Susan of Our company and have the infirmary prepare a bed." Peter didn't wait for the bobbing of their heads before he called out his next request. "Jagar, bring the best healer we have with us to the cart now. We will see what we can do for Lady Ileana before we arrive."

As the Cheetah left his side, Peter rose to his feet with Ileana in his arms. As he did, he noted she was far too light for a woman of her age. The two girls followed Peter to the cart prepared for them. He laid Ileana gently on a pile of hay, and then helped the two girls into the cart with her; the youngest kissed Ileana's cheek before laying down beside her. The oldest met his eyes before he could walk away.

"Thank you, Uncle Peter."

Peter was still unsure how to respond, so he simply nodded and returned to his horse. He left the girls in the care of Deos and Brak.

"What do you make of this, Orieus?" Peter asked when they were far enough away not to be overheard by the girls.

"It is a curious thing."

"Indeed."

"They claim to know you, and yet you do not know them."

"Has Ed ever mentioned a girl like that to you?"

"Nay. None that you do not already know about, Sire. And I find it impossible that he took a wife while in Tashbaan; the females of Calormen do not suit him."

"Yeah, yeah..." Peter nodded along dumbly. "You're right of course, and yet... Jagar, what do you sense from them?" he asked when the Cheetah reappeared at his side.

"Fear, my King. Confusion. A touch of excitement, but mostly...fear."

"Do you sense any threat from them?"

"From the kittens, no. But the woman is a mother and she is frightened; that is a dangerous combination."

"All the same, we are duty-bound to help them. Ride with them, Jagar. Keep an eye on them."

"As you command, my King. There...there is one other thing," the Cheetah added before walking away.

"What is it, Jagar?"

"I smelled King Edmund."

"Ed's nearby? Why would he be up here? He's supposed to be in Anvard."

"The reports say that he is, Sire," Orieus confirmed.

"You misunderstand me, my King," Jagar said. "I smell him...on them."

Peter's confusion only grew deeper.