A/N: This story is a shout out to Madelynne Rabb, who gave me the idea of continuing after I finished "Kings in Exile." I didn't think this part fit with that story, but I like it as a new story focusing on Edmund.
Thank goodness Edmund's cool head prevailed. While Lucy and the kids were staring in shock and Polly was gasping and Peter commanding, Edmund was already thinking. That was why he didn't join in his brother's entreaties—he was too busy dwelling on the wherefores. By the time he came up with something sensible to ask, the apparition had vanished.
Peter turned back to the table, and his face was very white. "What in the name of Aslan is going on in Narnia?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.
"He looked so sad!" Lucy exclaimed.
"He looked like a king," Eustace added.
"So very sad!" Jill echoed.
At the other end of the table the Professor was saying in a trembling voice. "I tell you, Polly, I don't know how I knew, but I had this feeling in my bones."
They went on repeating these things and saying nothing of consequence until Edmund couldn't get a clear thought in his head. Finally he had to shout. "Peace, all of you! Sit down and shut up for a second and let a chap think."
The chatter was quelled by Edmund's irritated outburst. There was no sound for a minute but the scraping of chairs as Lucy, Eustace, Jill, and Peter took their seats again.
"All right, let's sort this out," Edmund said when everyone was settled. "First, someone clean up that glass. We can't help Narnia with lacerated feet."
Eustace got up and fetched a towel from the kitchen. As he knelt to clean the glass, Edmund continued. "Now, who was that man?"
"Certainly he was a Narnian," Peter said instantly. "And I agree with Eustace that he was a king. I could see it in his face."
"He looked very Narnian," Lucy added, and everyone else murmured agreement.
"And he's not the Prince Rilian?" Edmund asked Jill.
She shook her head. "No. Rilian was different."
"So we have to assume that some significant amount of time has passed in Narnia since you were there if this stranger is king," Edmund said, settling back in his chair and rubbing his chin.
"But look here," Eustace said, his head popping up over the edge of the table, "How did this fellow manage to call us? Caspian came to our world, yes, but that was only after he was dead in Narnia and only because Aslan sent him. I've never heard of the Narnians being able to call us."
"But they have," Lucy said.
Peter took her cue. "Indeed. It was Caspian who winded Susan's horn and called us four back into Narnia a second time."
"Quite right," Edmund said. "So this may be something like. I don't know how he managed it, especially since he appeared to be bound, but his appeal must have been to us. And now the question is, how are we going to help?"
"Why, isn't it obvious? We must go to Narnia," Jill said staring.
"But that's just the problem. How does one get to Narnia?" Edmund asked, fixing Jill with a shrewd eye.
"Some of us aren't allowed," Peter said. Edmund looked to him sharply, but when he saw that Peter was merely stating it, he let his brother's comment pass.
She opened her mouth, but then she and everyone else realized the question was not as simple as it sounded. A frustrated silence stole over them.
"If only the wardrobe hadn't been destroyed!" Lucy sighed.
Edmund was practical. "It wouldn't work."
"It would. This time, I'm sure it would. We need to get to Narnia. It would know." Lucy was insistent, and her eyes grew very bright.
"Oh Lu," Peter said, his voice full of gentle compassion. He circled the table to hug her. She buried her face against him and cried for a minute.
Edmund felt a stab of jealousy. No one turns to me for comfort. Not like that. When he spoke again, he was a little more brusque than necessary. "All this wishing for wardrobes is well and good, but we're still left with the original problem."
"We-ell," Jill began slowly, "when Scrubb and I went to Narnia, we asked Aslan. And he sent us."
"We held out our hands and prayed," Eustace added. "Maybe, if we tried now…"
"Maybe," Polly said. "It's a good a shot as any, love."
Lucy looked up quite suddenly, appealing to Peter first. When she saw enough confidence in his face she sniffed and addressed the company. "Better than that. Aslan is listening; he always has been."
Edmund was starting to feel wretched. All the things he thought he conquered years ago, all the lessons he thought he learned from Narnia, they unlearned themselves in England. When Lucy spoke, her face was shining with tears and conviction and her brother's arms were around her for support, and a bitter sentiment surged into Edmund's throat like bile. She is such a child, he thought with disdain, but that idea fought with the truth. She has a faith I could never own.
"We'd better shut the doors. After we asked Aslan, we opened a door to the end of the world. It might be the same here," Eustace said, bringing Edmund back to the task at hand. Hope sent a little shiver up his spine.
Peter nodded, and he and Eustace each closed one of the doors leading into the room. Though nobody said it out loud, everyone in their heart of hearts believed Aslan would hear their prayer and let them into Narnia. Lucy was almost shivering with excitement, and Edmund felt that every nerve in his body was tingling. Peter and Eustace sat down, and they all joined hands.
"You ask, Peter," Lucy said. "You're the High King."
And me? I could ask. Even so, Edmund kept his peace as Peter closed his eyes and sighed. He was silent for a moment, and then his voice rang through the room. "Aslan, ever our protector and our guide, please hear us. Let us into Narnia so we may help these people in their hour of greatest need. We have served your will before and we long to do so now; we ask only for the chance."
Edmund felt Lucy squeeze his hand. He realized he had been holding his breath. They all held hands a minute more, each adding one silent wish. Then everyone let go and lifted their heads and looked into each others eyes. Peter nodded once, and Jill and Eustace ran to the doors and threw them open. Edmund almost couldn't look, but when he forced himself, he saw that they led into the hallway and the kitchen as they always had. "I thought it would work," he mused in amazement.
"So did I," Lucy whispered to him alone, and he saw that she was trying to hold back more tears.
"Now what?" Eustace asked.
Peter gave a frustrated grunt and got up to pace. "If I were there, I would lay waste to the foul enemies of Narnia!"
"So would we all," Edmund agreed, "If we only knew how."
"There may be a way," the Professor said very quietly. "I didn't want to speak of it in case there was something else we could do. But it's plain there's not, so we must try this. You remember the rings, Polly."
Polly gave a gasp. "Those rings! That is dangerous."
"Are you speaking of the rings that led you to Narnia at its birth?" Edmund asked.
"The very same. But listen, there are many problems."
"I'm sure we can think of something," Edmund said, leaning closer.
"Listen closely first. There are two sets of rings: two yellow and two green. The yellow take you into the wood between the worlds, a place full of pools that lead to thousands of other worlds. But this wood is dangerous. It is a soporific place where you can quickly lose thought of anything in any other world. And there are thousands of pools, millions, so it would be hard to find that which leads to Narnia. To find it, you have to switch to a green ring and step into one of the pools."
"But if you get the wrong world, you can just change to the yellow ring and go back to the wood," Eustace pointed out practically.
"Yes, but even then it's not that simple. There is no telling what worlds you might find in the pools. We found Jadis, and we brought her into Narnia with us."
Edmund turned very pale and felt his stomach lurch as it usually did whenever he saw Turkish Delight.
"But through all this difficulty you still think it possible?" Peter asked the Professor.
"Yes. For Jill and Eustace, at least. I don't think any ring could overthrow Aslan's command, I'm sorry to say." He looked very sorry indeed. It would have been powerful aid to send the High King back to Narnia.
Peter was thoughtful. "Still, it's a way. It's something. What do you think, Ed?"
Edmund shook his head, clearing it of awful memories and aftertastes of bad candy. "It appears we have no other choice. If there were another way, I would say we should take it, but there isn't. And even though it's dangerous, I couldn't sit idly by and know we had not done everything we could for Narnia. But we must ask Jill and Eustace. After all, they'll be using the rings."
Jill looked very frightened, but she swallowed and said at once "I'm game." Eustace couldn't speak from his own nerves, but he nodded fervently.
The professor sighed again. "Now here's the second problem. The rings are buried in the back garden of the house I grew up in in London."
"Do you know if it survived the air raids?" Eustace asked, having found his voice again.
Polly nodded. "Oh yes. I went to see the place just after the war."
"But we don't own the house," the Professor said. "Nor does anyone we know."
"Are the rings inside?" asked Jill.
"No. I buried them in the yard. They were underneath a tree of Narnian wood, but that was chopped down and made into the wardrobe. Still, I could tell you the corner of the garden pretty well. Once one of us got in."
"Two of us. Edmund and I shall go," Peter said at once.
"But how will you get in?" This was Eustace again. He was starting to become a bit of a wet blanket because he was scared and frustrated.
Edmund rubbed his chin. He was starting to relish this for the adventure and for his moment. "We'll have to sneak in. Pretend we're…I've got it!" he snapped his fingers. "We'll dress up like workmen and go very early in the morning. No one shall see, and if they do, we'll only say we're there to check on something."
"You could say it was the drains. It's been an awfully wet summer and it's very plausible there's something wrong with a lot of drains in London," Eustace put in.
"That's perfect!" Edmund said. "I have a friend who could lend us jackets. He works for the London sewer."
Now that the adventure was beginning, Peter's eyes began to shine and Edmund started to smile. They would worry about Narnia when they got there, but now the main thing was to get the rings. This was almost as good as the battles they used to share in a Golden Age thousands of years past in Narnian history.
The company adjourned shortly after that, exhausted with news and plans. Peter and Edmund agreed to set out the next day, since there was much to do. He and Peter were sleeping in the same room, just as they had in the Professor's house so long ago. They sat up talking even long after the rest of the house was asleep, or so they thought. Near midnight, Lucy poked her head through the door. "I saw your light under the door," she said.
"So you did. Come in, Lu," Peter said warmly, and he moved over in bed to make room for her. She curled up next to him and put her head on his shoulder. Again Edmund felt that old pang. Everyone wanted to trust in Peter.
"I wish there was something I could do," she said sadly.
"We all do," Peter agreed, and there was a restless something in his eyes.
Edmund didn't say anything. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them, his old pensive expression from his boyhood. As if all this talking would help. As if wishing could make Aslan forget his commandments and magic us to Narnia.
There was a light knock on the door. When Peter called "Come in!" the Professor appeared with his frazzled white head and his brocade robe. "I was looking for you in your room, Lucy," he said kindly, "But when you weren't there I guessed I'd find you here. I have something for you." He held out a small black box.
Lucy jumped off the bed to take it—she always moved with such alacrity. She tucked her legs underneath her as she sat back down to open it. As soon as she saw what it was she stopped in mid movement, holding the lid of the box suspended in midair. "Is it--?" she whispered.
Edmund turned his head sideways, now resting his cheek on his knees. She is always so amazed by everything. You'd think that would wear thin or wear out as she got older, but no.
But the Professor was misty-eyed too. "It is. I took it from the ruin."
Lucy reached into the box and slowly, slowly drew out a splintered fragment of carved wood. There was a knob on it. "Look," she said in a queer voice. "It's from the door in the wardrobe."
Peter took it from her and ran his hands over the wood. "The old way to Narnia," he murmured.
"Now we'll have to find a new way," the Professor said. "Or resurrect an older one."
"Then we'll have to build a wardrobe when we get back to start the whole thing over again," Edmund quipped, though his voice was somewhat muffled because he was speaking mostly to his knees. Still, it was enough to make everyone laugh.
A/N: So ziller mentioned to me that the wardrobe was actually destroyed, and I was like oh. There goes my big symbol for the story. But then I realized that it would be better if all they had was a fragment, and that the handle was better than the wardrobe whole. Then I thought that there needed to be more of a conflict, so I added some shades to what Edmund was thinking and voila. Hope you like the revisions--Peter's my favorite, but after all I had to do Edmund justice. He's got to have his own internal battles too! Angst for everyone!