Into the Gray

by Geanna Culbertson

  re you ready?”

  Mark stood in the doorway of a fancy bedroom as I fastened a backpack around my shoulders. I was a player in this dream, not an observer. I saw Mark’s reflection in the mirror. It was good to see him. The prince of Dolohaunty was beginning to feel like a distant memory.

  When we discovered that the antagonists had him classified in their files as “threat neutralized,” we feared his absence went beyond the illness that Lord Channing gave as his reason for not being at school. But once Liza’s visions and my own had calmed our worries—we’d verified he was actually sick, but alive—we hadn’t dug deeper into his state. If I was being honest, I felt bad about that. Too many challenges and villains had kept us preoccupied. Seeing Mark now, even in a dream, was comforting.

  I took a deep breath and met my own eyes in the mirror. They were full of fire, green irises sparkling with determination.

  “You said it was only half an hour from Queen Mary’s, right?” I asked, turning around.

  “If the traffic is good,” Mark replied. “The four of you will need to find a ride. You have the taxi number and the envelope of proper currency?”

  “All packed,” I said.

  “Good. Now remember,” Mark continued. “Yours might not be the only black portal opening at any given time, and the Ghost Dimension is not the friendliest place. So get out as soon as you can.”

  I walked closer to Mark and saw the lines on his face—embedded into his dark skin like he’d had his cheeks roughly smashed against a pillow while he slept. He seemed exhausted, and some sort of purple rash crept up the left part of his neck.

  “You should go drink your morning potion,” I told him. “I’ll meet you at breakfast. I’m going to check on Mauvrey.”

  Mark nodded and gave me a hug. He was tall, so I stood on my toes to return it. “I still wish I could go with you,” he said. “I know that realm better than you guys do.”

  “We’re not going to risk your health,” I said adamantly. “The lot of us has been in unknown territory before. We’ll figure it out.”

  “Still, I—”

  “Mark,” I interjected, but with softness. “Without you, we wouldn’t have such a legitimate shot at keeping the Eternity Gate from opening. You have shown us the way to Natalie Poole. Trust me, you’ve done plenty.”

  I sat up in bed with a jolt, gasping for breath.

  My vision of Mark had my eyes wide and my heart pounding. I could not recall the last time I’d woken from a dream feeling so hopeful. I launched myself from bed and grabbed my magic compact off the desk in my room. “Mark Durand.”

  The device rang and rang but no one answered. I should have expected as much. Mark Twos had only gone realm-wide recently. The odds that our friend had one were not high, especially since he had been sick enough to miss a year of school.

  But I wasn’t going to give up, not after the dream I’d had.

  New plan.

  I ran my fingers through my hair a couple times so I looked less disheveled and held the compact high enough to prevent anyone who picked up the call from seeing my pajamas. Then I went straight to the top.

  “Queen Belleny Durand.”

  My compact rang and rang, but this time someone did answer.

  “Hello, with whom am I speaking?” The queen’s lovely face filled the compact. She had light brown hair, hazel eyes, and a kind expression. I was so glad she’d picked up. I didn’t want to go to the next person on my list. Reformed or not, her husband was intimidating. I mean, calling up royalty at random was bold enough; calling on a king who used to be the Beast in our land’s famous Beauty & the Beast story was a gutsy move beyond even what I was comfortable with.

  “Hello Queen Durand, my name is Princess Crisanta Knight. I am friends with your son Mark. My friends and I sent him a few letters to check on how he was doing.”

  Our last letter had been sent a while ago—a couple of weeks before we went on our quest to find Paige Tomkins. In response to it, and each of the messages before that, we’d gotten a generic letter from his palace with some sort of thank you, no answers to our direct questions, and a vague: “Mark is recovering from an illness and will hopefully return to school soon.”

  “Oh, yes. Hello, sweetheart. I have not seen you in person for many years, not since that semester when I took Mark to school orientation. How are you? Our ambassador reported that your trial went well, and my husband and I are so glad you were not sent to Alderon.”

  “Um, thank you. I’m very glad about that too,” I said. “Listen, your majesty, I know Mark is recovering from a pretty intense illness, but if he has the strength to talk to me for a minute, I would really appreciate it. It’s very important.”

  The queen’s face sank sorrowfully. “I am sorry, Crisanta. Mark cannot talk with you.”

  “Why not?”

  “The illness has left him very indisposed,” the queen explained carefully. “That is why he was unable to answer your letters personally.”

  Frustration overpowered my politeness. My dream had let me know that Mark was the key to reaching Natalie Poole and our shot at keeping the Eternity Gate closed. I needed to speak with him right away to find out how and why.

  “What kind of illness is this exactly, your majesty?” I asked bluntly. “He’s been gone for a whole school year and people are worried. My friends and I care about him, and I think we have a right to know what’s going on.”

  The queen paused. Then something changed in her eyes, and her expression became one of open sincerity and strength “You are good, are you not, Crisanta?”

  “I . . . think so,” I replied, a bit taken aback.

  “Over the years Mark spoke often about you, Jason, SJ, and Blue when he was home from school. Nothing but kind words. I have known your parents for years and trust them. And I have followed the news regarding your powerful magic.” She sighed. “Given that, although our advisors have told me and my husband not to speak about Mark’s condition with anyone outside our immediate circle, I am inclined to think that sharing the truth with you may be wise. With the storms of conflict brewing around the realm, our son could use allies. Especially after the attempt on his life last summer . . .” She glanced away.

  “Antagonists tried to kill Mark. Didn’t they?”

  Her eyes shot to mine, going wide. “How did you know?”

  “The antagonists have been targeting protagonists who are a threat to them. My friends and I found a file on Mark that identified him as such a threat.” Then I paused. “Wait . . . you said antagonists attacked him last summer?”

  The queen nodded somberly. “It happened in early September, right as Mark was preparing to return to school. Thankfully, they were caught and he was fine.”

  “Hold on, when you say he was fine, do you mean like, fine fine? Or was he already sick?”

  The queen’s face sank further. “He came down with the illness a week later.”

  Thoughts buzzed through my head. Connections snapped into place. I wished someone at the palace had given us a scrap of helpful information when we sent those letters, or that Dolohaunty wasn’t so far away so we could’ve followed up in person. I wished the higher-ups in our lives weren’t always trying to keep us in the dark. And more than anything, I wished that my friends and I had made time to push the Mark issue and really find out what happened to him. Friends followed up, and we’d dropped that ball as we’d tried to juggle so many others.

  “Your majesty,” I said calmly. “What kind of illness does Mark have?”

  The queen hesitated, but eventually conceded the truth. “Mark is in a coma, Crisanta. He has not awoken for over nine months. All his vitals appear fine; the castle physicians and Fairy Godmothers tending to him believe it is some type of sleeping curse.”

  Bingo.

  I got it now. That’s why the folder we found in the antagonists’ bunker last fall listed Mark as “threat neutralized,” despite the fact that he still lived. They’d failed to straight up kill him,
so instead they’d put a sleeping curse on him like Mauvrey so he’d be taken out of action.

  “We have no idea what kind of sleeping curse it is though,” the queen continued. “Examinations are ongoing and research is continuous, but we have yet to succeed with antidotes for all known forms of sleeping curses. Even the most powerful antidote of True Love’s Kiss is ineffective. The kiss of both me and my husband did not cause him to stir in the slightest.”

  “Your majesty,” I stated surely. “I believe we can help you. My friends and I are actually dealing with another classmate who is under an unknown sleeping curse. We’re in the process of zeroing in on a way to wake her, and I feel confident that if we can do that, there’s a good chance the same method will work on Mark.”

  “Why do you believe that?”

  “Because I believe the curses were cast by the same antagonists. In fact, I’m sure of it. One way or another, your majesty, we’ll find a way to help you save Mark. You have my word.”

  The queen’s misery lifted from her face a bit. Hope was like that; it was a cord that could be pulled on to lift the shade. It was always a privilege to give it to people.

  “I am going to trust your word, Crisanta,” the queen said with great consideration. “I believe in your character. But do not let my husband and me down. Pursue this with all your strength and understand what you are promising. A person’s word may be powerful, but without honor it can be amendable. And after what we have been through these last nine months, we do not have the heart to deal with any more lost hope.”

  “I understand,” I said seriously. “I’ll be in touch when I have the answers you’re looking for.”

  The queen nodded and hung up. I put my Mark Two down and paced. The clock on the wall read eight in the morning. I needed to change and gather my friends to tell them everything I’d figured out. When they learned that Mark was—

  My genie cuffs started to glow.

  Oh no.

  FLASH.

  I landed in my genie bottle. A moment later I was sucked out. We stood in an alley. By “we” I meant me and Lena Lenore. To the left I saw city streets, to the right a dense forest.

  The cobblestone beneath my bare feet was as cold as it was uneven. Lenore wore a sleeveless, dark teal dress that matched her pumps. How she could walk on terrain like this with shoes like that was beyond me.

  “Lenore, this is a bad time. You have no idea the magnitude of what I just found out.” I paused and raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe you do. The queen of Dolohaunty was just mentioning how Fairy Godmothers had been tending to her son during his ‘illness.’ I gather you’ve known about Mark’s sleeping curse for a while.”

  “Crisanta, I know everything.”

  “Except when you should share information,” I retorted, crossing my arms over my pink pajamas. “My classmates and I care about Mark—he’s our friend. And you only know about the antagonists targeting him because we found that bunker beneath the Capitol last semester. You need to stop treating us like we’re idiots and keep us in the loop when shady stuff happens. We can help and, well, I demand that you let us.”

  “Perhaps I will consider doing that the day you are fully honest with me,” Lenore responded calmly. “You only share information when necessary, as I do. Or did you think I didn’t know that you and your friends are keeping an unconscious Princess Mauvrey in a tower in Clevaunt?”

  I froze. “I . . .”

  “Didn’t want to concern me with something that wasn’t my direct business? Didn’t see the need to trust me more than you are obliged? Were handling it yourself? Please stop me if any of these does not sit well. I know they are the core reasons I do not share things with you.”

  A weird, sickly feeling filled my stomach. I hated accepting that Lenore and I sometimes had similar ways of thinking. Even so, I swallowed the shame-vomit, as well as my pride. I didn’t want to be friends with Lenore, but I didn’t want to be enemies with her anymore either. Javier had been right about how much good she’d done for our realm; she wasn’t evil even if she wasn’t a nice person. Moreover, making peace with Lady Agnue had shown me how much smoother life could go if I wasn’t constantly at odds with my superiors.

  I took a deep breath and told Lenore about the saga that was Mauvrey and Tara, finishing with where we were now. “My friends and I are figuring out how to wake her, and I think that solution will also help us wake Mark. I’m sorry for not sharing this before. I do want us to be honest about the important stuff. Even if we’re not directly involved in one another’s strategies, I think we’re at a point that we can at least be open about them. Especially since I suspect we are going to be spending a lot of time together.” I held up a genie cuff.

  Lenore considered my offering of goodwill. Then she huffed lightly. “Quite a formal, and adult proclamation to hear from a girl in pink pajamas. But I appreciate your amateur attempts at maturity, Miss Knight.”

  I looked down at my PJs self-consciously. Then, with a wave of her magic wand, Lenore transformed my ensemble into a dark green, long-sleeve dress, leggings, and my familiar black combat boots. Sparks faded from the outfit as I met Lenore’s gaze.

  “So . . . why did you summon me exactly?”

  “For you to weed out this kingdom’s enemies,” Lenore responded. “Consider this your first official task of genie service to me and our realm. We are presently in the kingdom of Lernon. After months of investigation, officials have still not tracked down the location of the commons rebellion outpost here, but my sources indicate there is an entrance in the kingdom’s eastern forest.”

  “And you want me to . . .”

  “Find the rebel outpost.”

  “How am I going to do that? I have life powers. Not bad-guy-detection powers.”

  “Crisanta.” Lenore rolled her eyes. “We would save so much time if you restrained a bit of your attitude.”

  “I’ll try and have a better one next time you magically summon me before breakfast.”

  Lenore didn’t acknowledge my comment. Instead, she looked at me with her steely, unforgiving eyes as she gestured toward the woods. “Crisanta, I command you to use your magic in whatever ways necessary to find, uncover, and capture the rebels lurking in that forest.”

  My genie cuffs glowed and what felt like an invisible tether wrapped around my chest and urged me forward. It wasn’t like I was a puppet on a string being forcibly yanked, or like I was moving on autopilot as I did when consumed by Magic Instinct. This was more akin to a deep, fundamental yearning to do as Lenore commanded. It felt as though I would never be at peace or satisfied if I didn’t do it. I simply had to, and I had to do it now.

  Hm. So this is what genies feel like when asked to grant a wish.

  Lenore waved her wand and a Mark Two appeared in my hand. “Call me when it’s done,” she said. “I won’t be far.” And with that she did her dematerialization bit and was gone in a streak of raspberry magic.

  I faced the forest and reached for my wand, only to remember it was on my desk in Darling Castle in its pin state. Lenore hadn’t exactly given me the chance to pack for this trip. I was armed only with the power beneath my fingers.

  I headed into the trees’ depths, not sure what I was getting myself into, but duty-bound to obey Lenore in the same way a bee was compelled to follow a flower. In the outskirts of the forest where I entered, the morning sunlight streamed through the branches and caught on the dew-covered grass, causing blades to glow as if embraced with magic. The deeper I went though, the thicker the canopy became, thus subduing this effect.

  I wasn’t sure where I was going or how long it would be before I’d find a hint of the answer. These woods seemed huge and Lenore hadn’t narrowed down the range of my target at all. How the heck was my magic supposed to help here? Eventually, I flipped open the Mark Two and called SJ.

  “Hey,” I said when she picked up, looking confused.

  “Crisa? I thought you were still asleep in your room.”

  “If o
nly. Lenore summoned me. I’m on a magical errand for her right now in Lernon. My very first genie service, a.k.a. genie slave assignment.”

  “That sounds unpleasant. What is she having you use your magic for?”

  “Rebel hunting. Though I’m not sure how I can use powers of life to find them inside this massive forest she dropped me in. Any ideas?”

  SJ frowned in thought. “Not off the top of my head. It is not as though you can just ask the trees.”

  I stopped, gazing ahead at the seemingly infinite number of trunks. “SJ, I’ll try and get back to the castle soon. I think I know how to speed this up.”

  “Okay, but be very careful, Crisa. The rebels are dangerous and unpredictable.”

  “The same can be said about me,” I replied. “I’ll be fine. Talk later.”

  We hung up and I shoved the Mark Two in my dress pocket. Then I stood there and soaked in the silence for a moment. I was on my own out here. No friends or allies, no antagonists or higher-ups; it was just me and my magic. Suddenly, unexpectedly, I felt a swell of relief acknowledging that.

  Using my magic around other people was like putting on a constant show—one that sometimes left witnesses awestruck, amazed, and feeling in my debt, but could also leave people horror-stricken, intimidated, and disappointed in my performance. I never really utilized my magic when I was utterly alone. Even using it around Liza could make me feel judged; a main component of the woman’s job as my magic mentor, after all, was analyzing my progress and giving me feedback. As a result, I never had the freedom of harnessing magic with only me judging the merit of my actions.

  Lenore had let me be independent out here. It was true she wanted me to achieve a specific goal, but she didn’t feel the need to oversee my every move as I got the job done. There was something to be said for that. It felt liberating.