Morrigan shifted on the couch. “After your accident, you ended up here in Mosswood Manor, yes, but within the Grey Estate. It’s a space …”
“The what?”
“It’s a space between,” she held her hands out in front of her like she was holding an invisible box.
“Between what?”
“Between terror and transcendence.”
Julian’s mind reeled, the implications of her words sank in. “So, I’m not really in …”
“No.”
“You don’t work for …”
“No.”
“And you’re not …”
“No.” She shook her head with a bemused smile.
“I don’t …” He sat down again, put his hands to his temples, and groaned. “Let’s start over. Slowly.”
Morrigan stood and walked to one of the shelves, her fingers gliding over the spines of the books until she found the one she was looking for. She pulled out a green and beige cloth bound book. The spine was adorned with elegant, bold lettering in red and green. Julian couldn’t see the title from where he sat, but there was an ornate, small illustration of a dog on its haunches near the bottom that piqued his memory. She handed it to him with a chuckle.
“This might help.”
Julian took the book. A dour lion with a red mane and green glasses adorned the cover which read, “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum Pictures by W.W. Denslow.”
“What?” He paused, and then smirked with a shake of his head. “Which could it be? ‘There’s no place like home’? Or ‘It is such an uncomfortable feeling to know one is a fool’?”
She smiled at him, but said nothing.
He took a beat. He took a breath.
“Run me through this one more time.” He ran his hand over the cowardly lion on the cover. “You’re saying that after I wrecked my car, I ended up dead and that …”
“Not dead,” she interrupted. “You are here.”
“Here. In this ‘Grey Estate,’ you call it.”
Morrigan nodded.
“Okay. So I’m in this ‘Grey Estate.’ This place between. I’m not dead. But I’m not in the real world either. You’re not really staff, and I’m guessing already by the look on your face that I shouldn’t ask the next question in my head, so I’m going to move on from that. But that means … okay … I’m going to assume that Harold isn’t staff either and he’s some kind of manifestation like you are.”
She didn’t acknowledge his musing. She watched his eyes as he continued to work out his thoughts.
“Am I even really hurt?”
“Yes. That much is true. If you need something to hold on to, think of this as your mind healing, as a coma. You aren’t in a coma, but if it helps to think of it that way …”
“Can I ask why I’m here then?” he cut in.
“You brought yourself here, Julian. Only you can answer that.”
He sat for a moment in silence.
“I’m not sure I believe you yet. I’m not sure I don’t. It’s too crazy to be real, but this puts everything over the last couple of days into a perspective that actually feels a little less insane.” He got up. He ran his hand through his hair. “I just need a minute.” He paced to the window, but then turned back suddenly, and pointed the book at her. “You do realize this is an actual first edition, right?”
Morrigan shook her head. “You’re taking this better than I thought you would.”
“For fuck’s sake, I write godsquid-based gothic noir and world devouring cosmic evils for a living. Or at least I pretend it’s for a living. And I hang around with people who write time-shifting lesbians and squirrelly squires doing harpy hoedowns with demon-infested swords.” Julian snickered. “So far, this is registering as a mildly weird mindfuck.” He looked back out the window into the dusk-shaded gardens. “But if this is a reality that’s actually happening, it’s still a lot to process.”