Into the Gray

by Geanna Culbertson

  We had learned that the secret to flying in Neverland was fairy dust mixed with thinking purely wonderful thoughts. In the past, Jason couldn’t maintain that because he thought he was going to die in Camelot based on a vision I’d had. But that was in the past. I’d resurrected him and he no longer had to worry about that doom.

  Ella motioned to the fairies, whose wings flashed different colors to communicate with each other. They zipped over Blue and Jason’s heads sprinkling glittering fairy dust. My friends closed their eyes and focused. After a few moments Blue started to rise, and then Jason did too.

  “You did it!” I exclaimed.

  Jason grinned widely. He looked at me. “Do you want to give it another shot? A lot of good stuff has happened since the last time you tried. You claimed Excalibur. You saved me, Kai, Merlin, and Arthur. And you’ve been doing fantastic at Twenty-Three Skidd.”

  I also killed a guy, decimated half a city, used my magic for malevolence, and have a trial in a week that will decide my future.

  “You know what, not necessary,” I said, not wanting to deal with the embarrassment of being unable to fly again. “I can finagle my own method of transport.”

  I’d been reluctant about using a lot of magic recently, but I was about to try something big with Dorothy, so the time for being demure had passed. I had to excavate my confidence from wherever it was buried; this was as good a start as any.

  I squatted down and placed my hand on a large log covered with vines and fallen leaves. I concentrated, and golden light rapidly overtook my hand before seeping into the log and the other wildlife clinging to it. The wood split apart, the vines contorted and tightened, and the leaves gathered in bunches. Before I knew it, the parts had magically transformed into a life-size Pegasus assembled entirely of wood and vines with a mane and tail of leaves. The creature floated off the ground with its wooden wings spread, a golden aura coming off it.

  “That’s beautiful,” Ella gasped.

  It really was. With so many burdens weighing me down, it was nice to be reminded that while my magic had unleashed a lot of destruction, its capacity for beauty and goodness remained strong. And I—its wielder—remained strong enough to use it.

  “Lead the way, Conqueror of Pogpie Valley,” I said proudly, hopping on the flying horse. “The Page Turner is ready to save Miss Dorothy Gale.”

  Apparently, it was lunchtime.

  The time differences from realm to realm could be confusing that way. For Blue, Jason, and me, it was well past bedtime. Here all these kids were eating sandwiches and planning activities for the rest of the afternoon.

  The home of the Lost Boys and Girls was hidden deep in the wild terrain of Neverland. This hideaway, also known as Camp Awesome, was built like an epic sleep-away camp. Obstacle courses, treehouses, and rope bridges ran through the tall trees. Fairies magically illuminated strings of lanterns when darkness fell. There was a long dining table where the kids were currently having lunch and a large flat area around a fire pit for a nightly camp circle.

  “They’re back, everyone!” Ella shouted as we landed.

  All heads whipped in our direction and the kids’ faces burst into smiles. They abandoned their lunches and raced over. Fairies zoomed through the air to join the group too.

  I hopped off my enchanted ride. Having fulfilled its purpose by delivering me to camp, my wooden Pegasus disassembled into a pile of natural debris once more as the kids closed in.

  “Crisanta Knight!”

  I smiled. I didn’t usually like extra attention, but having a bunch of kids excitedly call out my name and rush at me like a celebrity did wonders for the spirit.

  The kids crowded around us, talking over each other and asking countless questions. Even the fairies flashed their wings in excitement, though I couldn’t understand what they were saying. I was trying to decide which question to answer first when someone taller than the rest of our welcome party strode over. Dorothy’s excitement was clear by the expression on her face. The gangly brunette in her early twenties was ready to rejoin the world of young adults, and I was her ticket home. Although originally from Earth, she itched to get back to Oz where she had built a life and true friendships before being marooned here.

  Dorothy broke through the crowd and gave me a hug. “I am terribly excited you are here,” she said in her delightful accent. “Thank you for taking a detour on your way to see Merlin to help me.” Dorothy embraced Jason and Blue then addressed the kids. “Crisa, Blue, and Jason will catch up with all of you soon. First, we have business to attend to.”

  A little girl with blonde pigtails and a red lollipop blinked her big eyes at me and pointed the sucker at Dorothy. “Are you going to make her better?”

  I knelt down and smiled. “I am.”

  “Can we watch?” asked a boy flying nearby.

  “I’m afraid not,” I answered. “I can’t fix her until we leave the realm.”

  “Aww,” a bunch of kids whined.

  “Now, now,” Dorothy said. “Your camp Mother says go finish your lunches and we’ll see you later. I have to talk with our guests and get ready to depart.”

  The kids complained a bit more but amazingly did as they were told. The crowd broke apart as everyone returned to their activities.

  Adulthood comes with magic powers of its own.

  Dorothy escorted us across the camp to her private bunker. As we climbed down the spiral staircase hidden in the tree trunk, Jason asked the question we’d all been wondering.

  “Where’s Peter?”

  “Camelot,” Dorothy replied. “He’s returned a few times since the Vicennalia Aurora—Pop-Up Portals open more often than Portalscape ones do—but he only comes to check in. Tinkerbell went back with him this last time for moral support. I guess you heard about what happened with him and Arthur?”

  “You mean the doozy that Peter Pan is actually King Arthur’s long-presumed-dead son? Yeah, we heard,” Blue said. “Last time we talked to Arthur, he was planning on telling the kid. I guess he finally did.”

  Dorothy nodded. We entered her private bunker—a generously sized room with blonde wood flooring, a powder blue bed with white lace bed skirt, and light pink chairs around a rustic table. Dorothy gestured for us to sit.

  “How’d the kid take it?” Jason asked.

  “Peter has never been very open with his feelings. He doesn’t care for serious things. But from what I can tell, he is happy to have parents, especially given that he and Arthur became close friends in the seven years the king was trapped here. However, for a long time, Peter’s identity has been built on the idea that he has no parents. He is the leader of other children who feel similarly displaced, so now that he has a place, I am sure it is causing him a great deal of internal conflict. Peter Pan the character is the impossible boy known across realms as the only child who doesn’t grow up. But now Peter the person is the only son to rulers of an empire—a prince with the implied responsibility of growing up to take over one day. That’s a lot for a twelve-year-old to handle.”

  “That’s a lot for anyone to handle,” I commented, remaining standing while everyone else took a seat.

  “The children here have started calling him the King of the Kids,” Dorothy said. “They mean it with respect and fondness, but I don’t think he likes it. I believe he would’ve chosen to keep the matter a secret if he had a choice. But of course, Arthur and Gwenivere had to tell Camelot; they couldn’t keep their son a secret, nor should they have to. But once that realm found out, the news spread quickly through the closest Wonderlands.”

  “Poor kid,” Blue commented. “He probably feels torn between two worlds.”

  “That’s precisely what it is,” Dorothy replied solemnly. “Both figuratively and literally. He doesn’t seem to know where he is going to settle. Here or there.”

  I felt bad for Peter. I understood what it was like to try and be multiple things for multiple people, and to have twists of fate challenge your view of yourself. But I didn’
t know what it was like to be torn between two families. I honestly had no idea how he was going to move forward long term with one part of his family being a bunch of kids on an island camp and another part being parents in a kingdom he hadn’t lived in for years.

  “At least since Neverland and Camelot are on the same time zone, he can go back and forth for now without big ripple effects,” I said, trying to be optimistic.

  “He’ll have to decide where he belongs in the next few years though,” Blue noted. “The time zones might be the same, but people don’t age in Neverland and they do in Camelot. He’ll keep aging whenever he’s in the latter, and his kid years may slip away faster than he hopes.”

  They always do.

  “That’s enough talking about Peter,” Dorothy said. “He may be young, but he is my friend and I find it odd discussing his life with him afar. We’ll see him when we cross into Camelot. Assuming you can complete the task at hand.” She turned to look at me with a serious expression.

  “Show me your wound,” I said.

  Dorothy nodded and took off her red cardigan. On her upper arm was a large, greenish-blue injury. It wasn’t bleeding, but it wasn’t healed over either. This wound had been caused by the Questor Beast’s poison and was stalled in time due to Neverland’s magical properties.

  “So how will this work?” Dorothy asked, self-consciously putting her sweater back on.

  “When we leave Neverland your mortal wound will stop being frozen in time like Arthur’s was,” I explained. “The life will drain out of you and I will restore it. That’s how it went with the king, so this should work the same way.”

  Dorothy took a deep breath. “When do we proceed?”

  “I checked my Hole Tracker while we were waiting in the jungle,” I said. “There’s a clockwise portal opening nearby in only four hours. No wonder Merlin didn’t mind that I’d want to stop here first; the side trip to this realm barely delayed us.”

  “I’d say that’s lucky,” Jason said. “But Merlin has probably foreseen our whole journey.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him,” I replied. “I still don’t know what the umbrella and sugar cubes in my backpack are for though.”

  “So now we wait,” Blue said. “Maybe there’s time for a nap? I know it’s afternoon here, but my body says I should be fast asleep under a comforter right now.”

  “Not a bad plan,” I said. “We’re probably not going to stop for a while after this. A few hours of sleep could do us some good.”

  o you think some of us are going to die?”

  My vision focused on dream versions of Daniel and me. We were crouched in the corner of some kind of large crate. It rocked slightly, leading me to wonder whether the compartment was in motion. The space was fairly dark except for cracks of light in the ceiling and floor. We were a couple feet away from each other and wore tired, worried expressions.

  Dream me had asked the question and she looked to Daniel for an answer, but he returned the sadness in her eyes in a way it hurt me to witness.

  “I want to say no, but I can’t, Knight. A lot of bad is happening here and at home, and in other realms too. Our friends are facing massive threats. We’ve made it through so much together, but most stories—even the ones with good endings—don’t usually allow everyone to reach that end. The odds of it happening are just too slim.”

  The vision shifted and I found myself in a new dream where I was a participant, not an observer. I wore an orange, knee-length dress covered in orange lace leaves. In my hand I clutched a bouquet of flame-colored flowers with golden leaves. Matching glittery gold swirls decorated my cognac riding boots; however my wrists bore clashing thick, silver cuff bracelets.

  I cantered up a set of brick steps covered in fallen foliage and was about to head off to the right when I heard a voice.

  “Crisa.”

  It was Alex’s voice. I turned and saw him in the shadows of a building.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” I said.

  “Even after what’s happened?” he asked.

  “Especially after what’s happened. You know what I went through, what they did to me. You could have stopped it sooner.”

  “I tried.”

  “Trying doesn’t undo this.” I uncurled the fingers of my free hand, revealing dark golden marks like scars burned into my palm and fingers that stretched a few inches past my wrist. It seemed both my hands were afflicted with the condition.

  The scene dissolved into flashes after that. A poster with the word “GYPSY” written across it. Bright blue sheep running toward me. My hands digging in snow to form a snowball. Natalie Poole sitting on a couch watching TV. My dragon Lucky roaring in fright. Then all went silent and I woke up.

  I looked blearily around the underground bunker where the Lost Boys and Girls slept. Blue remained snuggled in a bunk bed, but the place where Jason had decided to rest was no longer occupied. He must’ve woken already.

  I checked my Hole Tracker. The wormhole we were meant to take opened in less than an hour. We’d need to leave soon.

  Stealthily, I rose from my cot and made my way across the bunker—hopping over toys and plush cushions and bouncing across the trampoline floor—to reach an elevator that took me to ground level. When I emerged from the tree trunk lift, I spotted Jason up in the trees, running an obstacle course with a bunch of kids. Instead of calling him down, I eyed my surroundings, wanting to join him.

  I couldn’t spot a ladder, so I found a good tree with many branches and hoisted myself into the canopy. Several fairies whizzed past, flashing happily. With another swing, I pulled myself up onto the platform of the nearest treehouse, which sported a convenient zipline. I grabbed the handles, leapt off the platform, and zoomed through the treetops to catch up to Jason. A few moments later I released the zipline and landed on another platform, which connected to a rope bridge where Jason, having spotted me, waited.

  “We’re playing capture the flag,” he said as I clambered across. “I’m terrible at it.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m a good two feet taller than everyone else. The kids on the other team see me coming a mile away.”

  I smiled. “How long have you been awake?”

  “About an hour.” He sat on the rope bridge letting his feet dangle over the edge. “All the kids swarmed me when I left the bunker so I gave them a recap of some of our adventures. Eventually I suggested we play a game so they would let up on the interrogations. The little ones ask some really unpredictable questions.”

  “Like what?” I asked, sitting down beside him, careful not to teeter the bridge too much.

  “Why did I pick an axe to be my weapon of choice? What’s my favorite food? Did I cut my hair this short on purpose? Are Blue and I going to get married?”

  I raised my eyebrows and grinned. “That’s hilarious.”

  “You wouldn’t think so if someone asked you that about Chance.”

  “It’s not the same. Chance and I are only starting to get to know each other. If a little kid asked me if I was going to marry him, I’d think it was funny. You only get weirded out because you and Blue are best friends and you love her.”

  Jason blinked at me. “Crisa, I told you I like her. I never told you I love her.”

  “Give it time,” I said with a shrug.

  Jason continued to stare at me and I let him. I’d known Jason a long time and I knew he was very methodical; he never rushed into things. He may have been as courageous as Blue, but he was not as spontaneous. I had faith that maybe Blue’s boldness would win out soon and she’d pursue her feelings for him, but I wasn’t sure I could count on Jason to be as daring.

  The guy was patient, careful, and zen in nature. Unprovoked, I wasn’t sure he could make grand leaps of faith. Shining a light on this sensitive topic was good for him. He needed more of a direct nudge.

  “Because it was your brother’s. Sheep stew. And yes,” I finally remarked when I felt he’d been uncomfortable long enough.


  “What?”

  “The answers to those other questions. Before your brother Jack became a big shot with all the riches he stole from The Giants’ Keep, the only thing of value he possessed and cherished was that axe. That’s why you started using it. You liked the humility it embodied. There are tons of sheep on your family farm and your mom always makes sheep stew in the winter. And I’m pretty sure you did cut your hair that short on purpose. Though I could be wrong.”

  He laughed. “You know me too well.”

  “Comes with the territory,” I said, slowly standing up. “But that’s another reason you should listen to me when it comes to Blue. Climaxes are coming. This isn’t the time to hold back. As your friend, I’m telling you to make a move.”

  As if on cue, I saw the flash of Blue’s cloak on the ground. She’d woken up and was probably searching for us.

  “I’ll think about it,” Jason said. “I just don’t want to throw away what we have. Her friendship is one of the best things in my life. How can I risk losing that?”

  “That’s your internal character arc, man,” I said. “I’m just a curious observer in this will-they-or-won’t-they dynamic you two have going on.” My eyes drifted off into the distance. The light was catching on something silver and sparkly. “And while I may not have the answers to all your emotional problems, I think I found what your team was looking for.” I pointed at the flag poking out of a branch some fifty yards to the left.

  Jason followed my gesture then climbed to his feet. “No one’s guarding it. Let’s take the zipline and see if we can get there before someone spots us.”

  “You sure that’s worth the risk?” I asked playfully.

  “Shut up,” he huffed with a smirk.

  “Well, I guess in a few minutes I’ll either be dead or happier than I have been in a very long time,” Dorothy said as we gazed at the swirling orange Pop-Up Portal. The wormhole had appeared three miles from camp. Several Lost Boys and Girls and some fairies had escorted us here, but now the four of us were alone.