i. When the Narnians stole Edmund away from beneath the Witch's blade, they told him he was safe. This wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either.
ii. They brought him to the Stone Table. It was night. Edmund doubted very much that he would find safety there, for he still recoiled at the name of Aslan. He slept fitfully and woke the next morning before the sun was up.
iii. A sliver of gold just beyond the tent flap captured his attention, there in the dark. Unaccountably, Edmund felt the urge to rise and go towards it.
iv. And there was Aslan, who was supposed to be fearsome, supposed to be dangerous, supposed to be powerful, and he was he was he was. Dimly, Edmund felt himself hitting the ground.
v. But then Aslan said, βCome, Son of Adam. Let us walk a while, and reason together.β
vi. And as they walked together, in the cool dewy grass of early morning, the Lion told Edmund everything that he had ever done.
vii. They were standing in front of the Table when the conversation turned. Aslan spoke a riddle of a house blasted into rubble which he would piece back together overnight. He spoke of flesh being pierced, blood being shed, and of rejected stones being used for new foundations. He spoke about water welling up forever, washing you clean of everything you ever did wrong, all the blood that you ever thought of shedding, everything you ever tried to steal, and a river that carries you home when you can't walk anymore and spits you out brand new when it reaches the sea.
viii. Edmund's head swam. Silently, he yearned for the wisdom to understand what he was being told; or, failing that, at least to remember it for as long as it took him to puzzle it out.
ix. And then, the Witch. Then, the battle. The thrones. A year passed, and winter came. In its time, it melted back to glorious spring.
x. βEdmund,β said Lucy one day. βThere's something we need to tell you.β She and Susan were cloaked in springtime gossamer, like fairy queens in poems he only half remembered. They sat on the window seat in his study, holding hands white-knuckled: his two beloved sisters.
xi. βIt's about Aslan,β Susan said. βAnd the White Witch, and how he made her renounce her claim on your blood. The night before Beruna, he went back to the Stone Table.β
xii. βHe let her kill him,β Lucy cut in. βInstead of you. And then, because he hadn't done anything wrong, the Emperor's Deeper Magic brought him back to life.β
xiii. βWe've been arguing all year about how much to tell you,β said Susan wryly. Then, a little gentler, βWe don't want to hurt you, but we feel you ought to be told what he did for you.β
xiv. And Edmund, who had never forgotten what Aslan told him on that cool, dewy morning before the sun came up, shut his eyes and whispered, βI know.β
xv. I know, he said. I know that he died. I know that he did it for me. I know he lived again because I saw him the next day, and the next, and the next. I think I know what it means - or at least, I know the shape of it.
xvi. βOh,β said Lucy. βWe should have realized that he would have told you himself.β
xvii. βYes. But please, tell me the story all the same.β
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