Bella held her line. "We're not gods. So we have to measure the actual balance of power. Justice isn't invincible; evil isn't weak. I traded one move with the White Witch from a distance. Honestly, she's stronger than I am. I'm still thinking it through."
Aslan looked out toward the horizon. From Bella's angle, the lion's gaze was unnervingly clear.
"Sixty years ago, the fates of two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve tried to cross into Narnia. I turned them away. The White Witch was far stronger than the prophecy had described. For ordinary humans, coming here would have been meaningless—they would only have died. Hope shouldn't be cut down before it has a chance to bloom."
He looked at her. "Narnia has no prophecy to lean on anymore. The reason the survivors still haven't given up is that, in their hearts, the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve simply haven't arrived yet. But in truth, the hope in the prophecy is gone. Narnia needs your help, Miss Bella."
Aslan didn't press further. He waited, quietly, for her to decide.
Bella sat in the snow and thought.
Call it what it was: she was searching her own heart.
From a purely practical standpoint, she had no real connection to Narnia. She could climb onto her carpet, fly south, lie low for ten or fifteen days, and make it back to the material plane with little trouble.
But searching her heart, that wasn't what she wanted to do.
Using kindness to fill the creeping cold inside her—that was what she had told the Ancient One three months ago. Those words still rang in her ears. She hadn't changed her mind.
The White Witch was stronger. But not invincibly so.
The Ancient One's expectations, Father Christmas's expectations, and Aslan's expectations. Even the Beavers' hopes, all piled on top of each other. She couldn't turn them all away.
"Alright, Aslan. I'll help Narnia. But I can't beat the White Witch on my own. I need your help. I need everyone's help."
"Of course. Come with me, please."
Bella followed Aslan across the frozen wilderness for an entire night. On the morning of her third day in Narnia, they walked into a river valley.
Every last ember of life in Narnia—in Jotunheim—had gathered here. Green grass covered the ground. Tall trees rose from the earth. Encampments stretched as far as she could see.
"This is Narnia's last cry. All the free peoples are here. You can marshal an army to march on the White Witch's castle. They are waiting. Waiting for a leader." Aslan stood on a rise.
Bella stood beside him and looked down.
Calling it an army was generous.
Dense as the tents looked, the actual count was—maybe eighteen hundred "souls" at most. Only if you counted the leopards, boars, and deer sprinting around as individual soldiers did the coalition barely cross two thousand.
Bella turned to Aslan, a question in her look. He seemed to understand and shook his head. "I cannot involve myself too deeply in Narnian affairs."
"So you can involve yourself somewhat?"
"Yes."
She didn't know what rules bound him, but she accepted it. A shame that the great lion couldn't fight directly. Still—if someone else could tie up the White Witch's evil army long enough to create a one-on-one opening, she didn't think she'd lose.
And if someone could help her land a few swings of her staff on the White Witch while they were at it, even better.
"Alright. Don't worry about the battle. Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. I promise you, I will defeat the White Witch. Now introduce me to the captains of this coalition."
Bella borrowed a line from Optimus Prime, and Aslan gave a series of deep, approving nods. Freedom is the right of all sentient beings? Beautifully said. Remind me to get that carved on a stone and set it somewhere, so I can read it when I've got nothing else to do.
With Aslan lending his authority, taking command of the "grand" army went smoothly.
The strongest force in the coalition was the Centaurs—every one of them a gifted archer and, with a lance in hand, a cavalry soldier too. Fast, strong, disciplined. They made up almost five hundred of the coalition's muscle.
Next were the Fauns, with their reverse-jointed legs and cloven hooves, combining the hot temper of a goat with human discipline. They could hold a tight phalanx and absorb a hard charge.
With Aslan's introductions, she climbed to the peak of a mountain to personally invite the Gryphons to join the coalition. They agreed—but her suggestion that she ride one of them was refused flat.
"No human rides us. Not one. We are free." The gryphon matriarch, chief of her kind, glared at Bella.
Even Aslan tried to talk her out of it. "The coalition has set aside a Unicorn for you. Unicorns are gentle creatures, and they tend to warm more easily to women."
Bella was not moved. If there had been no alternative, a Unicorn would have been fine. But right now her curiosity was locked onto this four-legged, two-winged, eagle-headed creature.
Helping Narnia was a choice of the heart. Riding a Gryphon was another wish of the heart. She pushed Aslan aside. "Let me handle this. The Lady Gryphon and I need a chat."
A breath later, she traced a Teleport glyph and flashed straight onto the Gryphon's back.
The Gryphon exploded in fury, wings pounding, launching into the sky.
High in the air, the Gryphon spun wildly, trying to throw Bella off.
Bella clamped both hands into the mane at the Gryphon's neck. After more than ten hard rotations, she finally lost her grip and was flung off—at which point she simply cast another Teleport and reappeared on the Gryphon's back.
When it became clear she couldn't kill Bella by falling, Aslan shook his head and walked away. Sort this out among yourselves, he seemed to say.
Bella and the Gryphon Chief went at it like this all morning.
The Gryphon, mindful of Bella's entirely made-up status as the savior Narnia had been waiting for, wouldn't actually bite her to death. Bella, for her part, didn't want to escalate to anything uglier.
Both sides found a graceful way to back down.
"Get off. Saving Narnia is more important!"
"I need your cooperation precisely to kill the White Witch. Otherwise, with so many others in camp, why would I spend an entire morning negotiating with you? Because you are the most important."
She just wants to ride me, the Gryphon griped internally. Still, she accepted the flattery—most important. She descended. When she landed and saw the lone Unicorn standing to one side, she got a small surge of satisfaction.
Bella was pleased to have secured a temporary mount. But as she took in the "personnel" of the coalition, her smile grew strained.
Beyond the Centaurs and Fauns, there were a dozen or so Gryphons, a few leopards and boars—decent contributions, claws and teeth sharp enough, and with working squad tactics.
The problem was the bulk of the camp. The largest single population was a horde of small animals exactly like the Beaver couple. Rabbits, fawns, fox kits, little turtles. Watching the cohort of forest critters bouncing up to her as her allied troops, Bella's smile had to work very hard.