Edgeland

by Jake Halpern

  Oscar stood near the edge of the wall, looking straight down. He stomped his heel into one of the stones along the precipice. It came loose easily. The stone toppled downward, crumbling as it fell. Using his heel, Oscar dislodged another stone—and then another.

  For a second, Wren watched Oscar, but then she turned to face the crowd of people and started yelling.

  Alec couldn’t hear her because his ears were still ringing, but he could read her lips: Tear it down! She rushed to Oscar’s side and began to help him kick, stomp, and claw at the stonework. Others from the crowd joined them, including Alec, Alinka, Simon, the other soldiers, the graylings, even the Blind. Together, they hurled stones into the moat, making the water churn and foam as if coming to a boil. The image of this reminded Alec of Suns throwing their fearstones into the water at a great, big funeral.

  Slowly, the water began to glow, brighter and brighter with each stone that fell. Meanwhile, the streets below continued to fill with crowds. Some people simply gawked at the moat, while others hurried up the stairs leading to the Meadow.

  Up above, on top of the wall, Alec and Wren were finally overcome by exhaustion. They staggered away from the precipice and slid to the ground. Alinka sat with them. “You need to rest,” she told them. “You’ve done your part. They can finish without you.” And she was right. Soon people were streaming onto the Meadow in droves.

  “So many people,” said Simon, who was standing just a few feet away from Alec, Wren, and Alinka. “We’ll need to organize them.”

  “Someone already has,” said Alinka.

  A procession of sorts had formed—a parade of the dead—and at its head was an elderly man with long, wispy hair that fluttered in the breeze. He drew steadily closer to the terrace; as he did, his features became visible. He had a long nose and silvery eyes that shimmered like shale in a mountain stream.

  It was Sebastian Half-Light.

  Walking next to him was a small girl with pigtails. Flower’s face was solemn, though when she saw Alec and Wren, her mouth curled up into a half smile.

  Before greeting Alec or Wren, or so much as waving at them, both Sebastian and Flower walked to the edge of the wall and kicked away a few loose stones.

  “Been waiting a long time to do that,” said Sebastian.

  He then turned to Alec and Wren.

  “Well done, you two,” he said. “Well done.”

  Without another utterance to them, he began directing his followers, telling them where to go and what to do.

  Flower walked over to Alec and Wren and squatted down next to them. “I still gotta make good on our deal,” she said. “Let’s go see about that canoe.”

  It took a while to get to the cave. The streets were so packed with people that, at times, it was impossible to move. Flower, Alinka, Wren, and Alec clung to one another. Bodies pressed together, as if the buildings were actually inching inward, making the streets narrower and compressing the crowds like the jaws of a giant vise. Flower was worried. “You’re gonna suffocate if we don’t get you off the streets,” she told Alec and Wren. “Follow me.” The first chance she got, Flower led them all into a bliss house. It was empty except for endless rows of dangling vines. Flower ushered them into a stairwell. They took it down for several flights, going deeper and deeper.

  Alec and Wren stumbled along.

  “Do you know where you’re going?” asked Alinka.

  “More or less,” replied Flower.

  They exited into a subbasement of the bliss house, and after some searching, Flower eventually found what she was looking for: a tunnel. She had no torch, so they all held hands, and Flower guided them through the darkness. A short while later, they heard the lapping of waves. There was a faint glow in the distance. And then they emerged into the sea cave.

  Once inside the cave, Wren and Alec collapsed onto the cool sand. They just meant to rest for a few minutes, but when Flower and Alinka shook them gently awake, there was a look of urgency on their faces.

  “What is it?” asked Alec, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

  “You slept for a long time,” said Alinka. “We didn’t want to wake you, but now it’s really time to leave.”

  “Why?” asked Wren groggily. “What happened?”

  “The sea has been rising,” said Flower. “We had to paddle the canoe out and find a place to stash it.” She glanced back to where the mouth of the cave had been. It had vanished beneath the water. Alec and Wren were lying on the highest ground in the cave—the only place that was still dry. “We gotta get out of here, before the water rises any more.”

  Flower led them back down the darkened tunnel. It was partially flooded, and in several places, they had to wade through pools up to their knees. Eventually, they came upon a stairwell. Water was flowing down it, as if it were a waterfall. They climbed up and emerged onto a flooded street. Sebastian stood there, waiting for them, in water up to his knees. He was holding on to a vine he’d tied to the bow of their canoe.

  “Hello there,” said Sebastian. The water had crept up his robe, so that it hung heavily over his bony frame. “Ready for a little paddle?”

  Wren and Alec barely paid him any attention. They were too busy taking in what surrounded them or—more accurately—what didn’t surround them. The wall was gone. So was the Meadow. Vanished. As if they had never existed.

  “What happened?” asked Alec, scratching his head.

  “We took it all down,” replied Sebastian, eyes twinkling. “We had help, of course. Lots of it. Even so, the serpent drowned fast, in my opinion. Very fast.”

  “I don’t believe it,” said Wren.

  “Where’s all this water from?” asked Alec.

  “Some of it is from the moat,” replied Flower. “The water rose when the wall came down. But the sea seems to be rising, too.”

  “Come on,” said Sebastian, grabbing the vine tightly and towing their canoe forward. “I’ll show you.”

  They splashed up the flooded street until they reached a wide river, which cut the island in two.

  “This is where the wall and the moats used to be,” said Sebastian, sweeping his hand across the seascape in front of them. “Now it’s, well … see for yourself.”

  Alec and Wren gazed into the depths of the newly-formed river. Everywhere they looked, they saw nearly translucent staircases—thousands of them, it seemed—that started at the water’s surface and led down as far as the eye could see. Throngs of people were using them—children skipping lightly and old men creeping one tender step at a time—down, and down, and down.

  “The staircases appeared all along the moat, from one end of the island to the other,” said Sebastian. “We can’t account for everyone, but it appears the island has pretty much emptied out. We’re still waiting for a few graylings to report back.”

  Alec surveyed the banks of the river once more. A few clusters of people remained on the shore, but everyone else seemed to be making their way into the water and descending the glassy stairs.

  “Where do the stairs lead?” Alec asked.

  “Someplace else,” said Flower, shrugging her bony little shoulders. “That’s all we know, but it looks pleasant enough—nice and bright, anyhow. That’ll do, seeing as it’s been cloudy for the last five centuries. Damn depressing, you know.”

  Wren continued to stare into the river. There was something about the staircase that was strangely compelling. She felt drawn to them, in the way that one would be drawn to a roaring hearth on a winter night. Eventually she shook her head, as if trying to ward off the power of this spell.

  “I think they must lead to the Sunlit Glade and the Moonlit Beach,” said Alinka. “We’ve earned our passage out of Purgatory, just like the Common Book says.”

  Wren turned to Sebastian.

  “Do you think she’s right?” she asked, and then fidgeted nervously, waiting for his reply.

  Sebastian hesitated.

  “Oh, he’ll give you some great riddle about the next life and the gr
eat unknown,” said Flower. “But he doesn’t know any better than the rest of us.”

  Sebastian gave Flower a look, as if he might be cross with her, but then he shrugged. “She’s right,” he said. “I have no idea. And there’s no shame in that.”

  Wren took a step closer to Sebastian. “How can you be so calm about it?” she asked him. “What if where you’re going is worse than this place?” She glanced down into the staircase, then back to Sebastian. “I mean, everyone is just going down those stairs—blindly.”

  “Well, we’re all blind,” replied Sebastian. “But perhaps not quite as blind as we once were.”

  Flower shook her head. “Where do you come up with these sayings anyway?” she asked. “Do you have a list of them?”

  Sebastian let out a little chortle.

  “Where are Shade and Ember?” asked Alec. “What’d you do to them?”

  “Nothing,” said Sebastian. “They were some of the first people to take the staircases.” Seeing Wren’s surprised face, he threw his hands up in the air. “What should we have done? Make them stay? No. They wanted a way out, too. They just went about it all wrong.”

  “That’s an understatement,” muttered Flower.

  “So you just sent them along?” asked Wren. She sighed heavily and looked around, as if to see whether anyone else shared her concern. “So they’ll be there, having a good time—or worse yet, bossing people around—when you get to your happy place at the bottom of this river?”

  Alinka placed a hand on Wren’s shoulder.

  “If it truly is a happy place,” said Sebastian, “then there’ll be no need to boss anyone around or begrudge anyone else their contentment. And if it’s not, well, we’ll have Flower to set them straight—won’t we?”

  Flower brushed this off with a smirk and a wave of her hand.

  “Enough talking,” said Flower. “Let’s get the breathers into their canoe while they’re still breathers.”

  Sebastian handed Wren the vine affixed to the canoe. “Everything is in here,” he said. “Though you may not have to climb up the Drain after all.” He furrowed his brow. “I hasten to say I don’t know whether this will happen right now, but, every once in a while, water comes up out of the Drain, like an overflowing bathtub. It’s an event of great mystery in Edgeland.”

  Alec nodded. He had read about this in history books and had always been fascinated—and frightened—by the idea, though he wasn’t certain if he really believed it. The idea that the Drain would reverse its flow seemed unimaginable.

  “As it so happens, the Drain overflowed just the week before I died,” continued Sebastian. “I remember … all sorts of debris was brought up by the water—broken planks from funeral rafts, tattered ribbons of cloth, even a few jewels and amulets. When I got down here, well, there was hardly anyone else here. Point is—I’m wondering if the Drain overflows whenever purgatory is emptied.”

  “What are you saying?” asked Wren. “The water will just carry us back up?”

  “That’s what he thinks,” said Flower. “But I’m a realist. Hold on to the ropes and the grappling hooks. Just in case.”

  “You should go,” said Alinka, nudging Wren’s shoulder gently.

  Wren shrugged her off.

  “Give me another minute,” she said, looking down into the boat. She couldn’t bear to look up at her mother. “Just … another minute.”

  They all stood in silence for a spell. Up and down the riverbanks, there wasn’t a soul in sight. Everyone had gone, it seemed.

  Flower finally broke the silence. “I can still go with you to the Drain,” she said.

  Wren sniffled and shook her head. “We’ll be fine,” she said. “The Drain isn’t hard to find. Even if we don’t get out the way Sebastian described, we’ll climb.” She turned to Alec. “We’ve come this far, we’ll make it out.”

  Alec made his way over to the canoe and began searching for a paddle.

  Wren didn’t budge.

  Alinka gave her another little nudge. “You have your father’s determination,” she said. “And it’s time you found him, don’t you think? Remember, his family lives at the edge of the Songbird district, along a dead-end street lined with juniper trees. That’s where you want to go.”

  Wren nodded, but she couldn’t get herself to move toward the canoe.

  A shout pierced the silence and everyone turned. Oscar and a group of graylings were running toward them. Oscar arrived first and addressed Flower and Sebastian.

  “Everyone seems to be gone,” he said. It was as if he didn’t quite believe it himself. “Didn’t see a soul.”

  Oscar walked over to Wren.

  “Hey,” he said. “Do me a favor, would ya? If you ever make it back to Edgeland, maybe you could find my brother and tell him that you saw me … and that …” Oscar paused and splashed his feet in the water awkwardly. His deep, sunken eyes blinked rapidly. “Just put out your hands, all right?” He took off his leather boot and shook it vigorously, until a few gold coins fell into Wren’s outstretched hands. “I found ’em on one of the beaches here. Maybe he can use ’em to get out of the descenders. And tell Joseph, you know, I miss him.”

  “Of course,” said Wren, taking the gold coins.

  “One more thing,” he said, turning to Alec. “This old guy—a furrier. His name was Azrael, no … Isidro. Yes, that was it. He wouldn’t stop asking for you. Kept calling your name like mad. Guess he’d heard about everything that happened on the Meadow.” Oscar fished a necklace out of his pocket. It was a woven metal rope with an onyx amulet in the form of a wave. Oscar handed it to Alec. “He said he wanted you to have it. Told me to say that you really were the ghost-child after all, whatever that means. Had me say the words a couple times to make sure I got ’em right.”

  Alec turned the amulet over in the palm of his hand and traced his finger across the wave. Hot tears suddenly filled his eyes. He kept his head down until he’d wiped them away.

  “Thanks, Oscar,” he said softly.

  The silence that followed stretched out for several long seconds. The moment had arrived, and everyone knew it. Wren turned to her mother. Alinka took Wren’s hand, raised it to her lips, and kissed it. Then she hugged Wren fiercely.

  Wren closed her eyes tight, trying to prolong this moment any way she could.

  “Go,” Alinka ordered.

  Alec and Wren walked to their canoe, clambered over the gunwales, and climbed inside. Wren sat in the stern, Alec in the bow. They watched mutely as the graylings, led by Oscar, walked down the staircase. Then it was Alinka’s turn. She looked back just once, tears streaming down her cheeks, then continued down the staircase until her head vanished beneath the water.

  Now the only ones left were Flower and Sebastian.

  They each gave a little wave, clasped hands, and splashed into the water together. In another time and in another place, they might easily have been mistaken for a grandfather and his granddaughter wading out for an afternoon swim. They continued down the steps, descending into the crystalline depths of the river, until they were nothing but two distant specks.

  Alec and Wren kept staring until, in the blink of an eye, the staircases disappeared. Only water was left.

  Their boat rose quickly. Alec and Wren took up their oars and started paddling, but it wasn’t necessary. The current was now surging toward the Drain. The water was rising so fast that all the bliss houses were soon underwater. Wren used her oar like a rudder, trying desperately to maintain control of the boat. But it made little difference. The current was their master now. It seemed to be drawing them back to the Drain. The canoe crested a curling whitecap, and both Alec and Wren were thrown off their seats, crashing backward into the hull of the boat.

  The roar of the Drain was deafening. It grew louder and louder until its thundering presence overwhelmed their thoughts and fears. The boat lurched so violently from side to side that they didn’t dare sit up. Instead, they snaked their arms around the wooden pillars that conne
cted the seats to the frame. Alec wanted to reach out to Wren, to grab her arm, but she was too far away.

  The canoe rocked back and forth, tossing them against the hull. A giant wave rose from beneath the canoe, lifting it like a twig. The force was so sudden and powerful that Alec and Wren’s heads were driven into the gunwales.

  Everything went black.

  Alec smelled the world of the living before he saw it. Smelled the brine of the sea, the scent of rotting wood, and the oily odor of herring. Then came the sounds: the lull of waves, the caw of seagulls, and beyond it—ever so faintly—the end-of-night bells from Shadow temples.

  “Alec?”

  He struggled to sit up and realized there was so much water in the canoe that the vessel was almost completely submerged. Far above, the clear, star-filled sky was beginning to brighten with the early light of dawn. Alec turned and saw Wren. She was sitting in the water as well, rubbing the back of her head.

  “We’re alive,” croaked Alec. He coughed and cleared his throat.

  A small wave crashed over the boat, filling it so completely that it slid from beneath them and sank into the depths.

  Wren looked around as she treaded water, panicked. “Where do we go?” she asked. “We don’t want to be pulled back into the Drain.”

  “There!” hollered Alec. He pointed to a nearby portion of the Ramparts that ran across a small rocky island. It was only twenty feet away. They swam for the island and—to their amazement—reached its shore without feeling the tug of the Drain’s current. They dragged themselves onto the wet, pebbly beach, gasping for air.

  When they finally looked up, they could see a nearby vent in the wall of the Rampart. It was the same kind of vent they’d been in before, when they were trying to catch Isidro’s boat. Water was flowing out of it. This could mean only one thing: The Drain wasn’t taking in seawater. For the moment, it was still overflowing, like a sputtering fountain. Alec imagined Sebastian Half-Light encountering a similar scene so many years ago, trying to understand why it had happened.