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SUNSETS OVER LAND don't compareto those over the ocean. I'm reminded of that fact every evening when the sun falls behind the hull of the Dawn Treader and paints the sky orange and pink. And with no trees or mountains to obscure our view, Edmund and I watch from the stateroom balcony as its golden halo kisses the horizon. The edges of the darkened clouds light up with a warm, buttery yellow that almost seems orange, their wispy forms framed in a molten glow against the sky.
We had been talking. I'd been telling him about Sivaran and everything I'd learned. But we must've stopped at some point and let the waves fill in the gaps our voices had left.
I always find it hard to look away from sunsets. The moment I do, the world begins moving too fast and when I finally look back, everything has changed — the sky is a different color, the clouds a different shape, and the sun a crescent disappearing beneath the edge of the world. It's so easy to miss all of it.
"Have you ever seen a green flash?" Edmund asks. His elbow rests beside mine on the banister, our shoulders pressed together.
"What?"
In the corner of my eye, I see his head turn. "A green flash. You've never heard of it?"
I shrug. "Is that when the sun flashes green?"
"Sort of. Sometimes, when the sun sets over the ocean, you can see a small flash of green when the last of it disappears. Just for a second, though."
The idea seems absurd. The sun is white and yellow and orange and red; if it flashed at all, it'd have to be one of those colours. Green isn't even a sky colour. In fact, it must be the only colour that doesn't appear at all in the sky.
"Edmund Pevensie, are you trying to trick me?"
"I'm not!" He laughs. "Honestly!"
"Well, why have I never heard of it? And how could the sun flash green? It doesn't even sound real."
"Ask any sailor — ask Rhince —they'll all say it's real."
"Have you ever seen one?"
He hesitates. "Well, no–"
I scoff.
"–But that's what makes it special. It's incredibly rare; only a few people have ever seen one. It's supposed to be a sign of good weather on the horizon."
"We could use some strong wind," I note, thinking of how far away the next island looked on Coriakin's map. "What are the odds of this one flashing green?"
"About as likely as Aslan appearing out of thin air right now."
Considering the Pevensies's track record, though, that isn't entirely unlikely. It seems as if that's the only time the Great Lion ever appears: when they're here.
