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Darkness.
He was vaguely aware of voices. Not Monty’s. The wolf altered his voice, making it gruff and distinctly canine. The warmth of his hug was the only thing that lingered with him from the real world.
Edgar was still falling. But, he wasn’t convinced he was real. He wasn’t sure he was even here, physically at least. The last thing he remembered was the drop, the hug, the crash.
But the voices…
Do you hear them, Daughter?
I do. I hear.
Edgar shut his eyes tight. The wind wooshed past as he plummeted. The voices grew louder.
You hear the voices?
I hear the voices. I hear my husband. I hear Egbert.
The women in our family have always had a gift.
Oh-kay?
They sounded strangely familiar. But Edgar didn’t know anyone named Egbert.
But then,
Mother, where are we going? I think we’re leaving the material plane.
Leaving the material plane?
Hang on.
The darkness took him back. He could no longer hear the wind.
I don’t know what I’m seeing yet.
Edgar wasn’t falling anymore. But he wasn’t sure where he was.
Do you not know what you’re seeing because you took your glasses off?
I’m telling you- shut up.
As the voices faded, his vision cleared.
Edgar could see a large book.
One of its huge pages turned.
He saw Grandad’s motorcycle.
But seated on the motorcycle as it speeds away.
Was a man with the head of a raven, his caw echoing in the large space.
Another page.
Poe was speaking to him, but he couldn’t understand him.
His eyes lit up bright, blinding him in the darkness.
The darkness was unrelenting. Edgar wasn’t sure if he was standing or sitting or if he even had a body. The inky blackness was all encompassing.
There were no more voices. All sound was gone, as if bled away from the world.
Then-
tch-kshhh.
tch-kshhh.
tch-kshhh.
The noise cut through the silence.
He could hear voices again, but he couldn’t make sense of it.
A strange clattering.
HAAAAAAA… nd I’m g…a go..ful….ower!
Clapping, laughter.
The faint melody of Auld Lang Synne.
Above it all, he could hear laughter.
Louder and louder.
I haven’t been like-
You know what, I’m somewhere else. I’m good, mate.
The darkness swirled. The laughs faded slightly.
So, I’m in a completely empty classroom in the school.
The inky blackness swirled to form a room similar to Mr. Moley’s English room.
There’s- there’s no other students there.
The laughter got the tiniest bit louder.
No one’s laughing.
Edgar glanced around the empty classroom. He didn’t recognize the voice, but he was alone here.
I can hear faint laughter from outside.
It’s my- like, my friends are outside playing, and they’re happy.
He could hear Kevin’s distinct laughter over the noise.
But, there’s no writing on the walls.
And I realize there’s no writing on the book in front of me either-
Edgar glanced down.
A book materialized in front of him.
Pages empty.
Walls empty.
He was alone.
But then,
Should I wait?
I think he needs a minute.
He’s gone.
No.
He’s too far gone.
The voice wasn’t malicious- it wasn’t even addressing him- but the words plunged over Edgar like ice. The classroom faded away. The blackness took him back.
The voices were gone. Edgar was alone again. He desperately wanted something to see. To hear. A tether.
Edgar wanted to not be alone anymore. He spent too long alone. And now that he had friends, he had his bird, he couldn’t get back to them. To the- what was it? Material plane?
He thought desperately. Trying desperately to summon a tether to the real world. He wanted Poe.
Instead,
Edgar summoned
a wet dog.
Not the friend he was hoping for, but Edgar supposed dogs were nice.
He took a seat next to the dog. So far, this was okay. If anything, this was more straight forward than falling, voices, material planes. The books, curses, monsters, wondering wherever Poe was, acknowledging the fact that he was dying, detentions, Grandad. Hellpincers, geese, death, Monty’s wolf-
Edgar took a steadying breath. He reached a hand to pat the dog. It turned to him, and he paused with his hand in the air above it.
“Have you booked in your summer holidays?”
Edgar dropped his hand to the dog’s fur. “No,” he whispered.
If he couldn’t have a friend here, at least he had a dog. It let him pet it for a while. Edgar absently stroked him, wet fur sticking to his fingers. The voices were back. There was something about death saving throws, a hysterical because of all of this!
Edgar didn’t blame that voice. He didn’t know what a ‘death saving throw’ was, but if they were having any time like he was…
Edgar sighed and closed his eyes. He tried to focus.
He had the distinct feeling he wasn’t supposed to be here. If what he remembered was true, Edgar had two choices.
Stay here,
or fight.
Edgar released the tight grip he didn’t realize he had on the dog’s fur, muttering an apology.
He could remember the pain, the anger, the shame. Here was just wet dogs, odd visions. He could stay. Maybe he’d learn to speak with vision Poe, or he’d find that classroom.
But the books weren’t real.
Grandad wasn’t real.
Edgar couldn’t speak to Poe in the real world anyway.
He hadn’t seen any of his friends.
He wanted to see his friends.
He really wanted to see his friends.
Edgar hadn’t booked in his summer holidays.
The wet dog was staring at him.
Something told him, here was no future for him.
And, Edgar hadn’t booked in his summer holidays.
The wet dog was staring at him.
…you have unfinished business in this world.
Edgar hadn’t even given thought to summer holidays. What would they have done if he hadn’t been sent here? Him and his new friends. Would they have met up? With the motorcycle, Edgar could have seen any of them. Would Roland be able to travel out of the village? Maybe they could have taken Kevin to Disneyland. His first trip. Monty would have loved the rides. He was so quiet, but he did seem to enjoy thrills.
Maybe if Edgar hadn’t died. Or left the material plane. He dropped his chin to his knees, still patting the wet dog.
Its ears suddenly perked up. Then, the sound again.
tch-kshhh.
tch-kshhh.
tch-kshhh.
You d……w why, bu……nex…eath sa….row yo…ake will be w…antage.
Oh!
I …hink …’s Poe!
Poe.
The scratching.
His friend.
Maybe it was worth it.
If he followed the sound, maybe-
Maybe he could get out of there.
Edgar stood.
He was getting out.
He turned to the wet dog. The dog looked back at him
“Thank you for- uh being here. I’m going to leave now. My friend is here. Well- he’s my crow, but-”
The dog just responded with a “The sale must end soon” and disappeared into a burst of smoke. The smoke curled around him and shot forward, forming a path.
Edgar didn’t question it. He followed it, running. He thought of his friends, of his bird. He was going to come back. They were going to get to their summer holidays. And go to Disneyland. They’d go on field trips, do lessons. And they’d do it together. Four brave boys.
No, I’m a brave boy.
Kevin.
It turns away? Smack.
Roland.
Let’s go. Let’s go!
Monty.
He ran faster. The smoke grew thicker. Voices grew louder.
Poe!
Ne- never-more.
He’s back.
The smoke swallowed him. Edgar kept running.
Okay, Poe- Poe will do something on your turn.
This is Poe’s turn. Yeah, it’s Poe’s turn.
Poe is going to try to bring you back.
The smoke coalesced around Edgar. He didn’t know what any of it meant. But Poe was helping him. As if it would bring him closer to Poe, he ran faster.
“Poe?!” he cried. “Poe, I’m coming!”
But that requires…
a sacrifice.
Edgar slowed his stride to a stop. The smoke clung to him. A sacrifice?
No. Don’t you hurt him.
That’s a Nat 1.
“Poe!” he screamed. No. He couldn’t have it. Edgar had just begun to understand Poe. And Poe understood him. A sacrifice?
Midgley.
Is it worse for Edgar that it doesn’t work
or that it works too well?
“Poe!”
Worse that it works too well I’d say.
“No, Poe! Please!”
Works too well I think is- is the absolute worst option.
The cloud of smoke spiralled around him. He tried again, screaming for Poe. Tears streamed down his face.
“Poe!”
The smoke plunged into his chest, drowning out the last of his screams.