Raven: Book Three Page 10

Edgar continued, unfazed by my comment. “He told me I was to help you! Of course, I was delighted when—”

  “Nicholas sent you?” I felt overwhelmed by the fact that now they were sending people to assist, whereas my Edgar wouldn’t.

  “Oh, isn’t this fun!” He jumped again. “I love hunts. Perhaps that’s why they picked me.” He brought his finger to his chin in thought.

  I put my arms on Edgar’s shoulders, pressing his feet firmly to the ground. “Okay, calm down, deep breaths. Can’t we just ask Edgar where it is? Doesn’t he know?”

  Edgar Poe shook his head. “Oh, well. He knows about it, but it hides itself. So, he doesn’t know where that is. He just knows that it’s here somewhere.”

  “In this house?” I asked. I was confused as to why I wouldn’t have found it already.

  “Yes, darling. Here!” He shook with excitement under my grasp.

  “Well, why didn’t I know that?” I felt deceived.

  Edgar stuck out his bottom lip. “Well, I’m not really sure why no one ever seems to want to tell you anything. I feel sorry for you. So much unnecessary drama!”

  I let one exalted laugh leave my lips. “Finally, someone notices.”

  “Of course, dear. I see everything. So! Shall we?” He motioned toward the door.

  A smile crossed my face. This was so sudden, so unexpected. “Yes, Edgar. We shall!” I went along with his free nature and embraced the game he lived everyday. I took his arm. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Sam came to the door then. “What in the world is going on in this house?” Sam was grabbing his head in agony.

  Edgar looked at Sam. “Oh! The big guy is here too! Positively delightful!”

  Margriete popped her head around the corner, as well.

  “Ah!” Edgar sounded as though he was about to pop with emotion. “And you too!”

  “Edgar!” Margriete sang, pushing past Sam.

  Sam rolled his eyes. “Really? This again?”

  Margriete jumped into Edgar’s arms, toppling me to the side as Sam caught me. “Edgar! How did you get here?”

  He laughed. “I was sent on important business.” He made it seem as though it was top secret, although, at this point it was anything but.

  “They all know, Edgar. It’s okay,” I assured him.

  Sam looked at me with a disgusted face. “He’s supposed to help? How can he possibly help? It seems more likely that he’ll foil it all instead.”

  I gave Sam a playful slap on the arm. “Oh, come on. He’s innocent enough. Besides, he helped us last time. He’s good with this stuff.”

  Sam grumbled. “They could have just asked me to help.”

  I snorted. “I doubt that.”

  Sam looked down his nose at me. “Whatever.”

  Edgar and Margriete were squealing at each other with excitement, like two school girls.

  “Okay, okay. Break it up.” Sam stepped between them. “Can we re-group and act normal about this? Please?”

  Margriete smiled and put her arm around Sam’s torso. “Alright, darling.”

  “Okay.” I put my hands up, gathering the group’s attention. “Let’s start. Edgar—” he looked at me. “How do I find this thing?”

  Edgar shrugged. “Beats me.”

  My hands fell as a snort of disgust escaped my lips. “I thought you were sent here to help?”

  Edgar smiled. “I lied to the Santa man. I just wanted to visit! I never get to visit.” He frowned.

  “That’s because you should be institutionalized and caged,” Sam uttered.

  Edgar heard him and frowned, sealing his lips.

  “Can’t we just get along, for once?” I glared at Sam, warning him.

  “What?” he exclaimed.

  I ignored him. “So, that’s little help.”

  Sam spoke up again, clearing his throat in an obnoxious manner. “You are naturally drawn to it.” He glanced at Edgar as though to say, ‘I know better than you.’

  I thought for a moment. “So, you’re saying it’s likely something I already feel?”

  “Yeah,” Sam barked.

  I pressed my lips together, looking around my room in thought. “Well, there are an awful lot of things I’m drawn to.”

  Edgar yelped before speaking. “Well, why don’t we all just split up and start looking?”

  I nodded. “I think that’s just about the best thing we can do at the moment. So, let’s split.”

  Margriete and Sam walked across the hall toward Edgar’s room as Edgar Poe ran over to my journals, yanking them from the shelves and throwing them to the ground.

  “Edgar!” I yelled.

  He looked at me as though wondering what he’d done wrong.

  “Be careful with those!” I pointed my finger at the journals that were now splayed across the floor.

  He cowered. “Sorry.” His eyes fell and he knelt to the ground to pick up the journals. “I was sort of hoping to find one of those delightful books where when you pull it, a secret door opens.”

  I grumbled. “That’s not going to happen with those books, okay?” I thought back to the day I had thrown the whole shelf on the floor in frustration. No secret room.

  Growing annoyed, I found myself overwhelmed with the need to get away. I turned and walked from the room with a brisk pace, making it out the doors as I grasped at my chest. I walked to the railing that overlooked the hall, grabbing it for support as I felt myself begin to hyperventilate. For the first time since the beginning of this, the anxiety was finally catching back up to me. A familiar dark feeling crept inside me like a shadowy reminder of what I once was. I put my hand to my chest. All this was supposed to be wonderful. I was supposed to feel happy. But why, instead, was everything such a mess?

  Thunder crashed outside, rumbling the house and making the chandelier in the hall shake. I looked up at it, the sound heightened in my stressed state. I was tired of running, tired of fighting. I just wanted to be happy. I just wanted to be left alone.

  I closed my eyes, creating a mantra to calm my mind. Calm down, you’re fine. Calm down, you’re fine. When I opened my eyes, I saw something dark now standing in the hall. Startled, I gripped harder on the rail, my knuckles turning white. I was not scared, nor was I angry. I was just tense as I stood there, staring. My eyes were locked onto those of Edgar, his face like stone, his body tense.

  His eyes were crashing like the storm outside, but it was not fear that I felt from them, but warmth. I felt my chest relax then, as though someone had poured me into a hot bath, warmth filling my heart as my body let go. My grip on the rail loosened and I allowed my hands to fall to my sides. He did not break the stare, or even breathe, but still, I could feel him. The breath in my lungs began to lighten, the blood in my veins slowing as my heart rate became even.

  I moved then, still watching him as I made my way down the stairs. His eyes followed mine as I placed one foot in front of the other, as though in a trance, but I was still in control. I traced my hand down the railing, letting go as I reached the bottom. I walked up to him, stopping as our toes nearly met. I watched his eyes, feeling all my worries fade.

  He did not move. “I’m sorry.”

  His breath fell across my face and I breathed deeply, wondering if giving into his control was what I really wanted, or if he had indeed enchanted me somehow.

  “I’m sorry, for all of this. I don’t want to fight, I don’t want to look into our soul and see that kind of darkness. I can feel you, Elle, every emotion. But perhaps what I felt just now was the one I feared most: regret.”

  I took in his words, blinking only once. I was not ready to forgive him, but he put up a good fight, making me want to give in as his body invited me.

  He remained still, his words the only thing that moved between us. “I can feel your hesitation, but please, I see now what my actions do to you. I am ready to help. I am ready to hand over the control.”

  A part of me wanted to retort in anger, but the invisible force between us did not allo
w my emotions to get in the way.

  “You are the only thing that matters to me, and though it has taken me a long time to truly understand that, I finally see. It was my life’s purpose to be here, to understand how to yield to the things I can’t control. You are a part of that.”

  I still said nothing as something inside me began to shift and pull. I furrowed my brow, wondering why it was I felt that way, and recognizing the feeling. When I had first met Edgar, it was as though an invisible thread had connected us, always pulling me in and taking me in the direction I needed to go.

  “Elle, I can feel it. I know where it is.”

  His eyes stopped storming and the warmth in my soul cooled. His power let go of me then, allowing my emotions to return. Though I wanted to feel love, I still held back, seeing that he had done it in the spirit of forgiveness, to help.

  A smile spread across his face. “I know where it is, Elle. I can feel it pulling me now,” he whispered again.

  No longer able to hide, my mouth began to mimic his, and I smiled. “I feel it too. The string, it’s back, guiding me in the right direction.”

  I jumped into his arms then, and he held me, our soul burning as we once again united as one, no longer denying what came so naturally. No longer thwarting the love we had been fighting to save. His lips were against my cheek, but he did not kiss me. He was cold, but in this moment it felt good.

  “Come on.” I pushed away from him and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the library where I leapt onto the ladder. He dropped my hand to help me up, then followed. At the top, I dashed around the upper level, diving into the small room as the singular candle burst to life. Breathing heavy, I could feel Edgar’s presence behind me as I scanned the small space.

  “Of course,” Edgar whispered. “That’s why this room was so small.”

  I came to the same conclusion he had. “It’s because it isn’t a room at all, but a hallway.” I began to feel along the walls, but saw nothing. “How do you suppose we get through? How do we find it?”

  Edgar was looking around as I was—our backs against each other. I secretly enjoyed his proximity, feeling that we were finally operating as a team, having finally put our egos aside.

  “I’m not really sure.” He ran his hand along the baseboard, moving the leather chair as much out of the way as possible. I kept looking, figuring it wasn’t just going to appear out of nowhere. There had to be some sort of trick involved.

  “Is this why they say prophecies are a myth, because they are close to impossible to find?” My arms were at my sides, my eyes squinting in the horrid light.

  Edgar looked at me. “They do hide themselves, so I’m guessing you’re right. It’s said that everyone has one, it’s just a matter of figuring out were that is.”

  “So do you have one?” I paused, awaiting his reply.

  He snorted. “Probably, but if it’s anything like me, no one would ever find it, no matter how hard they try.” He laughed under his breath, still searching.

  “Wait.” My voice echoed off the side walls, but not from the back. “Do you hear that?” I had noticed it as Edgar was talking.

  Edgar stopped what he was doing. “Hear what?”

  I put my finger up to my mouth. “Shh... Now listen.” I took a deep breath. “Hello!” I yelled.

  Edgar jumped, bringing his hands to his ears in pain. “Elle, what are you doing?” he whispered in an angered tone.

  I laughed. “Sorry. But did you hear that? Do you see now what I’m talking about?”

  He looked at me, his eyes narrowed and annoyed. “No.”

  A sharp breath of aggravation left my mouth, and I put my hands on my hips. “What I’m trying to get you to realize, is that this wall—” I pointed toward the back wall, “—does not echo back as these ones do.” I pointed to the two side walls.

  Edgar’s narrowed eyes shot open. “Oh, yeah. Yes, I can hear that.”

  “Yeah, exactly.” I shook my head, touching my hand to the wall. “It’s as though it’s open, but—” It was solid and cold, just as it should be. “How do you suppose we get in there?”

  Edgar squeezed past me, also touching the wall. “There must be something we have to do. Let’s think. This is your prophecy in there. There has to be something we say perhaps. Maybe give it something, like a gift?” He smirked and I jokingly hit him on the arm. “Well, you respond well to material things!”

  “A spell perhaps?” I finished his thought.

  He laughed. “We aren’t really the spell making type, Elle. The term witch or Wiccan is a loosely used term. It doesn’t automatically mean we have spells and powers.”

  I laughed. “I know that, but—” It was then that I remembered the book I had found while Margriete and I were searching for a reason why the world was dying. “The book,” I whispered.

  Edgar looked at me, our noses close. “What book?”

  I let one laugh pass my lips. “Our book! The book about us! Edgar, I need a light. The candlelight won’t work. That’s why I never saw it before!”

  Edgar turned and walked out to the railing, looking below as he leapt over the rail, not bothering with the ladder. I also went to the rail to see where he had gone, watching as he left the room.

  “Edgar?”

  He didn’t answer but I could hear his footsteps. The garage door opened and closed, so I waited. After a few moments, I again heard the door as he made his way back. He entered the room then, with something orange in his hand.

  “Edgar, what is that?” He looked up at me, lifting his hand so I could see what it was. “Is that an—an extension cord?”

  He then walked over to the one lamp in the entire house, the one he had gotten from Thomas Edison, with the very first light bulb. He ripped the cord from the wall, as though it was nothing.

  I winced.

  He plugged in one end of the extension cord, letting some of it out in a coil on the floor. Then he turned to me, tossing the rest of the loop up and over the rail. I caught it as I leaned over. He walked to the ladder, holding the lamp under his arm in order to climb with both hands.

  Once back by my side, he took the coil from my hand and found the end, plugging the lamp back in and removing the shade.

  “Are you ready?”

  I took a deep breath. “Yes, I’m ready.”

  He lifted the lamp and the light fell upon the small space. My eyes lit up then, a bright shine reflecting back at us. We both winced and turned away.

  “Whoa, a little bright,” I remarked, shielding my eyes.

  Edgar nodded in agreement. Bringing the lamp down and twisting the bulb slightly.

  “What will that do? Won’t it just turn—” I stopped talking then, amazed as the light dimmed rather than went out. I was finding that there were a lot of things about this old light bulb that were much better than modern ones. For one: the bulb had never burned out, but I could also see why bulbs today did. If they never burned out, then you would never need a new one, hence, light bulb suppliers would go out of business. Politics. I shook my head.

  Edgar winked at me. Then he lifted the light back toward the space. We both prepared ourselves for the blinding light, but this time, the light was perfect and we lowered our hands from our face.

  “Edgar—” I was speechless.

  There was a single line of text written across the wall, glimmering as the book had. It almost looked as though it were floating in air, written in a magical ink that left no mark that the human eye could see. I walked closer, laughing as I read it:

  Password, please?

  “Password? What do you suppose the password is?” I turned and looked at Edgar.

  Edgar shrugged. “I’m not sure. Your prophecy sure has a strange personality, though.”

  I grunted. “You’re a big help.”

  “What? I really don’t know.”

  I took a deep breath, pressing my lips together. “Well, I guess I’ll just start.” I took a deep breath, shaking the energy from my hands as thou
gh preparing myself for a run. “Abracadabra,” I yelled. Nothing happened.

  “Too typical, try something else.” Edgar’s gaze never left the wall and his stance like that of a football lineman, just waiting to pounce.

  I laughed. “It was worth a shot, at least. Okay, how about—” I paused as I tried to come up with something new. “Open sesame?” Still nothing happened. “Seattle, Scott, um… Edgar!”

  “Come on, Elle. It’s not going to be Edgar. Besides, those are all new things, for the most part. You have to remember that this has been here for a really long time.”

  I nodded. “You’re right. Okay, more creative.” I paused, searching my head. “Oh I know! What about, raven?” The house shook then, and a yelp escaping my lips. There was a flash of light that grew from the corner of my eyes, spreading across them and blinding me. Thunder crashed outside simultaneously. I tried to look from the railing to the large window, but the bright light had blinded me. I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut. As I opened them, color slowly filtered back, shapes once again forming.

  Edgar placed one hand on my back, pulling my attention back to the wall. “Elle! look!”

  I turned away from the window, seeing now that it was not the thunder alone that had shaken the house. Before our eyes, the wall began to dissipate into thin air, leaving the glowing letters floating.

  Raven…

  The word lingered for a moment, and then I watched as the letters faded into smoke, leaving nothing but a black void where the light from the bulb could not reach. Edgar placed the lamp on the floor and I grabbed his hand, stepping forward with dilated pupils.

  “Come on,” I pulled. Edgar hesitated, but he still took the lead, afraid to let me go first.

  As his foot crossed the threshold of the wall, light suddenly poured over him. Large torches burst to life, revealing a space that was about half the size of my bedroom. In the middle of the room, a light from above shown down on a cube that was floating in the air, turning over and over as though twisting on a string. Edgar’s grip never left mine, my breathing shallow and his nonexistent.

  I was in awe. “Wow.”

  Edgar looked back at me. “I haven’t seen this in centuries.”