Into the Gray

by Geanna Culbertson

  “What are you doing?” Bondo barked.

  “I did warn you . . .” I said in a voice deeper than usual. Golden energy flared around my entire body despite the magic-suppressing shackles. In an instant, that energy snaked around the room and consumed every rebel in the vicinity. Grand blasts of the magic aura also blew past us and swept through the corridors beyond.

  Gold to gray—the energy morphed in color.

  Power surged around me, and all our enemies. In my autopilot state I listened to the satisfying sound of bodies dropping. Bondo was the last to collapse. When he hit the ground and Blue was safe, a deeply gratified feeling filled me for a moment. I wasn’t sure exactly how many rebels I’d just killed, but I was certain I’d evened out my death toll with some extra bad guys to spare.

  Then came the cruel wake up call.

  The extra strength of Magic Instinct shut off almost immediately after the bad guys were dead. Normal me was left to deal with the consequences of using a ton of magic while wearing Stiltdegarth cuffs. The pain that came in retaliation was so intense it was like dying all over again.

  It overtook me. I screamed, shuddered, and went down.

  n my dreams, Arian and Tara were in a forest at night. They had half a dozen men with them, holding lanterns that cast their faces in shadow. A full moon glowed through the canopy. Suddenly, I spotted something darker than the night. A black wormhole.

  The scene abruptly changed and I witnessed several vision flashes. SJ outside a large storefront with a big “SOLD” sign in the window. An absurdly large ship sitting at a dock. A four-year-old boy and girl—twins by the look of it—with brown hair and green eyes chasing each other under the shade of beautiful Jacaranda trees. Daniel holding the Book of Bindings from my Century City Summit trial. Then my mind flooded with bright white light and I was in the void. A girl stood in front of me.

  “Natalie?”

  In her mid teens, she was barely ten feet away. I couldn’t believe it. I’d finally reached Natalie in her dreams again!

  I rushed forward, but the moment I did her body started drifting backward. I ran faster, but Natalie only seemed to be getting farther away. I stopped running and tried something else.

  “Natalie!” I called out to her. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yeah!” she replied, looking around. “Who are you? Where are we?”

  Her figure was still getting smaller and smaller on the horizon. “Natalie! I’m Crisanta Knight! Tara is going to try and destroy you and Ryan! Keep away from her!” By the time I got out the last syllable, Natalie was a speck in the distance and then she was gone. I had no idea if she’d heard my full message. I was out of time either way.

  I woke up in my bed at Chance’s castle and sat up with wide eyes, still in shock that I’d reconnected with Natalie.

  Why here? Why now?

  The questions pushed me toward deduction. The only other time I’d been able to contact Natalie in my dreams had been the night after I’d died and resurrected myself in Camelot. What if the only way for me to generate enough magic in one day to reach this girl via dreams was by getting killed and coming back to life?

  I shuddered. That appeared to be the only logical possibility, but maybe I didn’t need to keep testing it. What if I surrendered my original plan instead?

  I had given up my magic training with Liza; perhaps a second change in strategy was in order. Trying to generate the right amount of magic to contact Natalie through my dreams had not been fruitful thus far. And I’d had a vision about Mark that clearly revealed he’d show us the way to Natalie. So why not shift my focus to saving him to get to her?

  Dying was noble, but I didn’t want to continue doing it if I didn’t have to. Saving Mark was a better plan. No more doing things the Liza way, the old way. I had to adapt. I had to change.

  I scooted up further in bed and cringed in discomfort. My arms and stomach trembled, both weak and achey. I pulled back my covers. There was a hole in the side of my dress—the place where the FGW had blasted me. Faint golden scars were all that remained of the shot. I gingerly touched the marks, a bad idea that generated a ripple of pain, which quivered through my entire body. I gasped and sat still to let it pass, beads of sweat prickling my forehead.

  Eventually I released a deep breath. My Stiltdegarth shackles were gone. I held up my wrists and marveled at the shocking events that’d transpired. I still could not believe what I had been able to do despite the restraints. I didn’t know what was crazier, the fact that I’d resurrected myself after being partially disintegrated, or that my power had overcome the magic-inhibiting nature of the cuffs and killed all those people.

  How many was that . . . fifteen? Twenty?

  I was alone in my room and I wished it could stay that way for a long while. I didn’t know who I intended to be when I left this space—a girl proud or ashamed of what she’d done. I’d been so glad to live in the gray recently, so free and secure since I’d redefined my perspective of morality. But what happened today was different, and my conscience was restless. Losing control to Magic Instinct and killing some two dozen men at once didn’t feel right.

  But even if I didn’t feel right, was it right? It got the job done didn’t it?

  My conscience went from restless to argumentative. I was angry at myself for losing control, which is what Nadia and all the people who doubted me assumed would happen if I used my magic to take life. But I was also angry at myself for doubting my own strength, and for feeling badly about putting an end to people who meant to kidnap and kill me and those I cared for. How could I let myself feel regret over destroying monsters? How could I let those monsters make me feel weak, a victim to the will of Magic Instinct?

  Maybe I was weak. If I had been strong enough to take their lives myself, in my own state of control and sound mind, then maybe Pure Magic wouldn’t have needed to step in.

  Or maybe that ruthlessness was just the magic talking . . .

  I sighed. Staring at the clock across the room, I couldn’t decide if I was being too hard or too easy on myself. According to the time, seven hours had passed since the attack. How much had happened outside my bedroom walls while I’d slept?

  “Hey . . .”

  SJ peeked her head into the room then pushed the door open fully and entered with my friends behind her. Only Chance, Marie, and Gordon were missing. I wondered where they were.

  “Would you care to tell us again how you have been spending your genie service hours with Lenore?” SJ asked with a serious expression.

  Everyone gathered in a semi-circle around my bed. I swung my legs carefully around the side, my boots hovering an inch above the floor.

  “How did you know I was awake?” I said.

  Javier pointed at an open compact mirror on my desk. “If you leave them open, they work like nanny cams.”

  “So, you’re babysitting me now?”

  “Considering none of us know exactly what you’re capable of, maybe someone needs to,” Kai replied.

  Aggression sparked inside me and I narrowed my eyes. “Yeah, you’re welcome for saving everyone and ridding the world of a bunch of bad guys. The snide is fine, but I also accept thank you cards and fruit baskets.”

  “Crisa,” Blue sighed. “It wasn’t the wrong thing to do . . . necessarily. But we were surprised. I’m glad you saved me. If the Stiltdegarth cuffs hadn’t blocked my powers, I probably would have magically torn into those guys too. We’re just shocked because we had no idea you could do something that intense despite the suppression of Stiltdegarth cuffs. Were you going to tell us you could overcome them?”

  I softened. “Honestly, I didn’t know that I could. Everything I felt—the pain, the anger, the desperation—caused Magic Instinct to take over and it just happened. But this is the first time I’ve used Magic Instinct since the Twenty-Three Skidd championship, I swear. I have killed a few bad guys during my genie service with Lenore, but I’ve done it with complete control and clarity every time.”

&n
bsp; “I am not sure that is as reassuring as you may think,” SJ replied. “Killing our enemies may be time efficient, but it is not something that good people do.”

  “I don’t know about that, SJ,” Daniel countered. “Taking the lives of people who’ve taken lives themselves isn’t a clearly defined moral area.”

  “But it is,” SJ replied. She looked at me. “There has to be a better way. We are princesses, for goodness’ sake. We should lead by example and show mercy, then find a way to enact justice fairly.”

  I felt my magic tingle inside me, mixing with my aggression and sense of pride. I was the one being lectured, but my power had a mind of its own, and it didn’t like SJ’s perspective. Neither did I, frankly. SJ was smart, but her opinion felt small-minded.

  “SJ, I don’t mean to insult you, but it’s easy to sit atop a high moral horse when you have no true connection to what this is like,” I said. “You’ve never lost someone. Not to a villain. Not to murder. If you had, you would know there is no amount of time or forgiveness or goodness that can bury the truth that sometimes revenge is justice. I’m not even talking about murder specifically. This extends to others wronging you in general. If people didn’t have to worry about consequences, and they faced someone who hurt them and had the opportunity to hurt that someone in return, they would do it every time.”

  “That is kind of a bleak expectation of humanity,” Divya commented.

  “Not a wrong one though,” Girtha said solemnly.

  “I agree,” Blue said. “Sometimes people—bad people—need to get a taste of their own medicine. Why show mercy to people who don’t deserve it? They wouldn’t show it to us.”

  The anger in me cooled, tempered by sadness. Pain was like that—it burned like fire and numbed like ice just as easily.

  “Emma was killed because of me,” I said, looking to SJ, and all my friends, for genuine understanding. “Jacqueline died in an attack that was specifically executed to provoke me. Paige Tomkins was murdered for the same reason. Taking out bad guys like the ones who killed them isn’t a dark action; I see it as a good deed. I’m protecting the realm from additional horrors they could unleash. And past that . . . It’s kind of like Blue said. Why should we serve up any other kind of justice? Imprisoning villains in Alderon would allow them to live out the rest of their lives with opportunities for food, shelter, and a chance to grow old. That’s better than their victims got. Do you think that’s fair?”

  My friends didn’t say anything. Eventually, SJ sighed. “We are just going to have to accept that we do not view things the same way.”

  Her comment was like a moderate punch to the stomach—not terribly painful, but still impactful. In the silence that followed, moroseness settled into the dent left by her words.

  I knew that even great friends didn’t agree on everything all the time. But I had known SJ for so long and she was important to me. For us to have such fundamentally different points of view about such a significant issue didn’t feel right. Would we be able to get past this?

  “Crisa,” Jason suddenly said. “The magic hunter named Bondo—the one who shot you—wasn’t killed by your magic. He’s the only rebel still alive.”

  “What about the rebels who were in other parts of the castle?”

  “They’re dead too. Your magic aura spread and killed every attacker in the castle.”

  I blinked. Surprised. “Oh . . . Dang.”

  “So any idea why your magic didn’t kill him?”

  I frowned and shook my head. “My magic moves in my best interest when it takes over, so there is clearly something it intuitively wanted me to do next that involved him being alive. Let’s go talk to him.”

  I carefully got out of bed, adjusting for the residual pain. Given the hole in my dress, I grabbed a jacket off the coat hook, then forced away all signs of weakness and pushed past my friends. Internally, magic flared alongside my will and sense of duty. I’d decided who I intended to be; I was committing to her full on. Mercy could wait with the other useless ideals while I got a job done.

  “I assume he’s in the dungeon?” I said.

  My friends followed me out. “Do you know the way?” Javier asked.

  “I’m very thorough when I go exploring,” I replied. “Come on. Keep up.”

  “So what was the plan, Bondo?” I asked.

  The dungeon of Darling Castle was only illuminated by sporadic lights in the stone hall ceiling and small barred windows in each cell. They allowed a grayish haze to stream in from the outside.

  Bondo sat on a bench attached to the wall of his cell. Chance, Cereus, and Daphne were already interrogating him when my friends and I arrived. Chance’s hand was wrapped in a bandage. I assumed SJ had applied some sort of healing potion in the hours I’d been asleep; she was great at those. I was more worried about Chance’s unseen injuries. I knew from experience how rough an attack on one’s home could be on the soul.

  “It is like he told us when we were captured,” Daphne said, looking at me. “He was here for two reasons. Both of which had to do with you. One was revenge. You have been crushing the rebels with the Godmothers, so their plan was to capture you dead or alive.”

  “Their second reason was more interesting though,” Cereus interceded. “It seems your use of magic to further the Godmothers’ cause has inspired the rebel leaders to actively seek out magical assistance, hence the employment of magic hunters. The rebels have FGWs, but the antagonists in Alderon commandeered most of the original batch of weapons as part of their deal for funding the project. So the rebels planned to capture a few powerful protagonists and transfer their abilities into the right people within their alliance.”

  “They were grocery shopping for magical protagonists,” Chance summarized. “Between me, my siblings, and you guys, there are eight people with magic staying here at the moment. That many in one stationary place is a tempting target and in retrospect a stupid move on our part. That’s the exact reason why Fairy Godmother Headquarters is always changing locations.”

  “Do you know how he and his people got in?” Javier asked.

  “The same way we get anywhere once thought to be impenetrable,” Bondo interrupted, rising and coming to square off with us through the bars. “And it’s like I told the golden princes and princess here.” He gestured to Cereus, Chance, and Daphne. “You can torture me all you like, but I’d rather die than give you more information. So you might as well just kill me.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  Without warning my Magic Instinct flared. Gold and gray flashed around my fingers, Bondo was consumed by the energy, then he dropped to the floor like a swatted fly.

  “Crisa!” Divya shouted.

  Cereus whirled on me and got up in my face. “You had no right to do that. The man was bluffing. Torture works on everyone. He would have given us what we wanted in time.”

  I heard Cereus, but he felt far away. I didn’t even look at the prince and kept my eyes focused on Bondo. “We don’t have time.”

  With that, my hand flashed again. Golden energy consumed Bondo in a cocoon. Seconds later, he returned to life, gasping for breath as he clawed at his chest. The action felt like nothing to me. Even in my Magic Instinct daze I could appreciate how, despite the weakness and pain in my physical body, when Pure Magic commandeered me and unleashed its raw potential, I was basically unstoppable.

  “Crisa! What are you doing?” Daphne asked.

  Again, my magic responded before my brain fully formed an answer. I wondered if that meant the magic didn’t need to know how I felt in order to act, or if it was acting on my true desires before modesty and restraint could abandon them.

  “Cereus is right,” I said, my voice deep and hands still glowing. “Torture works on everyone; you just need the proper kind. A few succinct heart stops and resurrections should do the trick.” Before my friends could react, I took Bondo’s life and restored it again.

  When the villain’s eyes opened anew, he rolled and twitched on the
ground, panting. He was in agony, and I understood. It was shocking to come back to life—your heart stopped and lungs empty one second, then the next moment all your organs reactivating at once while your blood flowed harder than before. I raised my hand to continue the torture, but someone grabbed my wrist. I looked over at Kai; she was both scared and determined.

  “Crisa! Stop.”

  “This isn’t you; it’s the magic,” Divya added.

  “Let her go, Kai,” Blue said, stepping forward. “It’s both of them—her magic and her. The power might push Crisa to act brashly, but she can stop it if she wants to. I’ve seen it. She’s partially making a choice here. And I agree with it. We don’t have time, and I’m tired of villains thinking they can hurt good people without worrying that good people will hurt them back.”

  Hm. Had that been what my magic and I had always been doing—making a choice together? I was used to treating Magic Instinct like an enemy, a powerful force that took over and enacted its will over my own. What if this whole time that had been an excuse? Blue was right; in the past I was able to stop my power if I disagreed enough with what it was doing, like in the case of Madame Aelxanders. So did that mean that Magic Instinct or no Magic Instinct . . . had the core of everything always been me?

  Kai looked at me sternly, but released my wrist. I no longer felt completely possessed by Magic Instinct, like I was on autopilot. Control was settling back into my body. However, before the full power of Magic Instinct left me and was replaced by weakness and pain, I forced out a final action. Magic Instinct and I took Bondo’s life a third time and resurrected him.

  “Tunnel system,” he gasped when he could speak. “There are ancient tunnels beneath the realm that connect many different kingdoms.” He scrambled to the corner like a beaten, frightened animal, still panting. “The rebel leaders discovered them a few years ago and made the hub of their operation there. Forces have been exploring and excavating tunnels since then. A narrow tunnel goes through this mountain range and ascends to the castle, letting out in the boiler room.”