Midnight Law

by Geanna Culbertson

  I looked one final time at Kai’s shattered frame, down at the crack through my family, then into Knight’s knowing green eyes. Her words had gotten through to me. Though I guess since she was an extension of my mind, those were really my words—my beliefs and reasoning trying to get through. I accepted the harder, healthier truth they propagated.

  I didn’t want to backtrack my character growth even if the sadness I felt right now made it seem like a more appealing option. Long term that would only make things more difficult and maybe even destroy me altogether. No more running. No more retreating.

  A part of me may always be scarred, but I wasn’t going to let fear of getting punched in the heart stop me from fully using it like I did for so many years already. Maybe this wasn’t the last time someone would hurt me; maybe this wasn’t the last time a relationship would cut me to my core. But I refused to throw away all the positives that came from letting good people into my life in order to avoid feeling like this again. Sadness, anger, betrayal, and heartbreak sucked, but Knight was right; they happened. I just didn’t have to let them break me. I could choose to not let the people and things that hurt me haunt me forever, and move forward instead.

  I took a deep breath. “For the first time, I think I really am ready.”

  Knight gestured at my heart essence. The energy pulsed like a living organism.

  “Last time it burned me,” I said.

  “Last time you weren’t ready.”

  Hesitantly I reached out and touched it. The moment I did, the energy surprisingly changed color—going from icy blue to fiery red. My entire body rushed with warmth and the energy expanded to envelope everything around me in a blinding glow.

  “Yikes!” Tiny Mauvrey said.

  I looked to my right and discovered her and SJ where I’d left them. I stood in the Queen and King of Hearts’ throne room again—my body outlined in a haze of red energy.

  “Quick!” the Queen of Hearts bellowed. “A sample!”

  A fish footman zipped next to me with a special device like an old-fashioned pair of bellows for blowing air into a fire. He used it to suction some of the red energy from me. A second fish footman hurried over. With his fins, he held up an empty jar. The first fish ejected the energy he’d taken into the jar, which the second fish proceeded to seal. He shook the jar intensely for a few seconds, then held it up. The red energy inside vibrated, contorted, and formed the shape of a misty crimson heart.

  “We’ve got it, Your Majesty,” the fish footman said, rushing over to the queen and holding up the jar for inspection.

  “Marvelous,” she said. Her eyes darted to me. My red energy had almost faded away. “Boy! You are the first hero I’ve left alive in some time. I should like you to put your heart sample in its place with my collection yourself. Then you shall have your flame.”

  She abruptly stood. “I have risen!” she announced. All but her husband hastened into a bow or curtsy as she picked up her skirt and stomped down the stairs of her throne platform. Everyone started to come out of their bows and curtsies when she reached ground level, but she waved her hand dramatically. “Stay down. I will be back shortly.”

  All the guards, fish, and courtiers froze uncomfortably in mid bow or curtsey. The queen snapped her fingers at one footman. “I expect my afternoon tarts and tea here when I return.”

  She bustled out of the room. SJ—Mauvrey still on her shoulder—and I, along with the fish footman carrying my heart essence, pursued the queen. Her heels clicked and clacked on the marble floor.

  “I hope you will explain to us later what happened to you,” SJ whispered.

  “Yeah. What’d it look like on this end?”

  “You went into a trance,” Mauvrey replied. “Your eyes glowed blue for a while and you stood perfectly still for about five minutes until they turned bright red. Everyone just stared at you in silence.”

  “Sounds awkward and uncomfortable.”

  “So is riding on a former roommate’s shoulder,” she replied.

  “Here we are!” the Queen of Hearts announced. She thrust open a set of massive ruby double doors that formed a heart. We followed her inside.

  Dang.

  The chamber we entered was tall and cylindrical like a soda can. Shelves wrapped around the room covering every inch of wall space. Hundreds of glass jars glowed from the shelves. Some held heart-shaped collections of energy like mine did; most seemed to contain actual human hearts, which glowed too. SJ’s face paled but she didn’t say a word.

  The Queen of Hearts pushed a rolling ladder over and gestured to me. “H for Hero means eighth row from the top. Up you go. Make sure you latch the jar properly into the safety lock.” The fish footman passed me the jar and I carefully climbed the ladder one-handed. When I reached the eighth shelf from the top, I observed that each jar was on a special, circular pedestal and held in place by a set of latches. Each jar also had the name of a person glittering on the front of the glass. There was an empty pedestal next to a container that held a human heart for someone named Joseph Richardson.

  “Sorry, man,” I found myself saying as I pushed my jar onto the pedestal next to his. I heard a click and the safety latches clasped my jar. Then by magic my name appeared on the glass. I looked at the glimmering Daniel Daniels before descending the ladder. I hopped off the last wrung and faced the queen. “Now your end of the bargain, Your Majesty.”

  “Say please first.”

  “Please.”

  “Now bow.”

  I rolled my eyes but did as she asked. When I stood up, the Queen of Hearts revealed the flame, pulling it from the folds of her dress. I took out my pocket watch and she opened her fingers, willing the flame to me. I caught it, then touched it to my watch and the final quarter of the device was washed with glowing light. The word Perseverance appeared over the watch’s face. I showed it to SJ and Mauvrey.

  “That feels right to me,” SJ said with a nod.

  “Me too,” I responded.

  In a snap of light, our green exit portal appeared in the floor —swirling like a whirlpool.

  “Oh, my lovely floor!” The Queen of Hearts exclaimed. “This portal clashes with my color scheme. Out with you all, now!”

  “This portal should take us to Crisa, wherever she is on Earth,” SJ said.

  “Finally,” I replied. “After you.”

  “One thing first.” SJ reached into her magic sack and drew a few handfuls of potions, which she put in her pocket. “In case I cannot activate my sack with Earth’s magic restrictions,” she explained.

  “Good thinking,” I said.

  Without another word, the girls jumped through. I prepared to do the same.

  “Daniel,” said the Queen of Hearts. I paused. “Remember, you owe my sister a magical favor. Next time you return, perhaps show me a bit more devotion like the rest of my subjects. I don’t need anything from you anymore, so there is no need to keep you alive. And I actually disagree with my sister.” She stared at me, her expression deadly serious. “You are too handsome not to behead.”

  The intensity in her eyes and tone caught me off guard. A fish footman nodded vigorously, which didn’t help.

  I turned on my heel. I had bigger fish to fry and more important hearts to worry about.

  Knight, I’m coming for you.

  I stepped through the portal in time to see full-grown, grimacing Mauvrey sitting on the floor of the room we’d landed in. And by room, I meant bathroom. Minuscule, moderately sticky tiles underfoot, teal stalls to my right, and a trio of stained sinks on the left.

  “What a time for me to change back,” Mauvrey said, disgusted as she scampered to her feet and went over to the sink to wash her hands. The portal closed behind me.

  SJ activated her Hole Tracker. “We are in an area of Earth called California.” She powered the device down and shook her wrist. “The magic rejection here works fast. I already felt my wrist burning.”

  I took out my pocket watch. “I’ll try to keep this clo
sed while we’re here, but I want to check how much time we have since we couldn’t keep track accurately in Wonderland.” I flipped the watch open and my face dropped.

  “We only have ten minutes of Book time left! That’s, what, roughly three hours and twenty minutes on Earth?”

  SJ’s eyes grew equally alarmed. “Bathroom break is over.” She charged toward the main door and pushed it outward. “We have to figure out where Crisa—”

  “SJ?”

  My eyebrows shot up and my hand went for my sword as SJ staggered away from the door . . . where Knight’s brother Alex stood.

  loved being a conquering hero.

  Yes, Chance was the one who had petrified that crazy Hydra-Rat in gold, but my friends and I had all helped, and the citizens of Toyland were overjoyed.

  Following Chance’s explanation to the Nutcracker King and Kevin, and a brief debrief with the whole army, it was time to party! Our last portal hadn’t appeared, which made us all anxious, but there was no better distraction than a bunch of stuffed animals lifting you on their shoulders and parading you through cheering streets on your way back to a shining palace.

  The Nutcracker King had invited us to attend tonight’s celebration ball as we waited to pass whatever test the last Midnight Law flame still required. Again—we were eager to continue our quest, but we embraced the diversion since the time of our departure was out of our hands.

  Personally, I maintained hope that our portal would show itself in a timely manner. If I had learned anything about this place it was that Toyland did not dillydally. This was a populace of planners that moved with the precision of soldiers at their finest. With the way the battle and ball had been organized, in the two hours my friends and I had been here we’d joined an army, defeated a rat-pocalypse, and returned to the castle to change into loaner party clothes.

  I checked myself out in the mirror of the guest room that the doll ladies-in-waiting had provided for me. The room was an explosion of color, as if Mother Nature had vomited all her brightest hues on the walls then the castle’s designers just rolled with it.

  My dress was wild like me. And I meant that literally. While the gown had a thin fabric lining, dark green vines grew over it and composed the majority of the dress from its off-the-shoulder straps to the puffy skirt. Vibrant purple, yellow, and fuchsia blossoms dotted the vines, and the doll ladies-in-waiting had done up my normally unruly hair in a braided low bun adorned with the same flowers. Sparkly, gold earrings with colorful crystals dangled from my ears to complete the look. I eyed my reflection, pleased but also thoughtful.

  I used to shy away from girlie things and lean heavily into my book smart, street smart, tomboy persona. It was a way to prevent people from lumping me into the wrong archetype—the damsel, the love interest, the sidekick. I didn’t want to be known for beauty or femininity or traditional female roles, so I tried to care as little about those things as possible.

  Over time, focusing so heavily on the non-girlie persona made me feel like I couldn’t dabble in girliness at all because then people would make a big deal about it. Gowns were required for our monthly balls, so no one overthought that, but I didn’t regularly put my own extra effort into those occasions with makeup or fancy hairdos or ladylike heels. I certainly never wore a dress to school or in regular life because then everyone would be like, “Ooh, look. Blue’s wearing a dress. Let’s all make a huge thing of it.” I didn’t want that, and it seemed easier and safer to stick with the persona I’d built for myself.

  Now as I looked at my glamourous appearance in the mirror, I realized how unlike me that sentiment was. And I was ashamed that I’d let it drive me for so long.

  I was never about the easy or safe option. For someone who claimed to be fearless, I should’ve seen it sooner. I liked girlie things and rough-and-tumble things. I felt as powerful in this flattering dress as when I hurled a knife at a bullseye. So who cared what anyone else thought? Why was I letting fear of being seen as too feminine and losing my masculine street cred dictate how I lived?

  In retrospect, femininity and masculinity were stupid words, and they were lies. Inlaid in those words was the inherent acceptance that some qualities were solely characteristic of one gender or the other. Viewing an action-packed, gritty girl like me as a “masculine girl” and, I don’t know, a boy with an interest in flowers and fashion as a “feminine boy” was insulting. I was calling malarkey. We were just people with different strengths and interests. I didn’t have feminine or masculine qualities; I had qualities. And character. Stepping outside of my comfort zone didn’t have to compromise that. I had to stop acting out of fear that it would. I needed to own all parts of me at all times, whether they fit with my usual persona or not. Like Crisa.

  One of the coolest things about my best friend was that she had managed to brand herself as a hero-princess. She embodied this breaking of conventional definitions better than anyone. She was someone who loved to fight, and ballroom dance, and wear pretty dresses, and get down and dirty. She was compassionate and tough and caring and merciless, all at the same time. I may not have been a traditional hero by training or a princess by blood, but I didn’t have to be to follow Crisa’s lead and embody that hero-princess vibe. The essence of a hero-princess was unapologetic confidence as you led a life with strong sense of self, goodness in your heart, and honorable intentions.

  With that in mind . . . why would any true hero-princess ever need to worry about getting lost in someone else’s story?

  Why couldn’t I feel weak at the knees for Jason and still be strong as a mountain? Crisa and Daniel had developed a strong relationship—stronger than I think either of them realized—but they were also wholly themselves. They worked as a unit and they worked separately. They were a team, but they were solo acts. They shared a story, but their individual journeys stood proudly on their own. The same thing applied to Crisa and Chance’s budding relationship. Though my friend had anxiety about dating, none of it stemmed from dread of being swallowed up in the prince’s narrative or watering down her purpose in life. She knew where she stood and she was not concerned that her character couldn’t withstand the addition of a strong male character. All that led me to one question where Jason was concerned:

  Why the frack had I been so afraid?

  Midnight Law had been challenging, scary, and genuinely awful at times. But the benefit of things that are challenging, scary, and awful is the opportunity to learn and grow.

  I had made so many mistakes. I had broken Jason’s heart. I had treated my friends like crud. I had let anger and guilt get the best of me. And worst of all, I had forgotten the real meaning of strength, which had nothing to do with muscle, power, or being invincible. It was holding your head high in the face of whatever the world threw at you, and in spite of whatever insecurities lingered in your subconscious.

  I had changed through this quest and I knew who I was now: Blue Dieda—deadly warrior, fierce thinker, good friend, and relatively snarky blonde girl. Now all I had to do was garner the courage to face the final challenge; I needed to know who I was in relation to Jason.

  I took Crisa’s wand out of my backpack and stuffed it in my boot. I didn’t need to be a princess to know the beat-up backpack did not go with this outfit, but I still wanted to keep the precious tool near me. Following, I picked up my blue cloak, my trademark. I felt its soft material . . . then I put it down. It did not go with me tonight either. And I was okay with that.

  I made my way down the hall and descended the grand staircase. Below, couples of all kinds—dolls, soldiers, stuffed animals, and more—strode across the gold-and-white striped floor toward the doors. Every lady had her hand slipped through the arm of a gentleman.

  I spotted Chance, Girtha, and Jason at the base of the stairs waiting for me. Jason looked handsome in his formal attire, but he stood out no matter what he wore. I did notice that his smile shone brighter than normal when he saw me coming down the steps. I liked that. I was open to that. I was also
open to it when Jason offered me his arm. I only hesitated for a second.

  Chance gallantly offered Girtha his arm, and she accepted too. We merged with the line of toy couples and proceeded through the doors and connecting colorful halls.

  “I take it no portal appeared during our costume changes?” I said, leaning back toward Chance.

  “Unfortunately, no. They’ve always shown up for us when the time is right, but we’re running out of time. We may want to consider a Plan B if this portal doesn’t show soon.”

  “Such as?” I asked.

  “Well, we know Crisa’s on Earth,” Girtha said. “We could try to find a regular wormhole that leads there and hope our final portal eventually appears to take us the rest of the way.”

  “It’s a decent backup plan,” Chance said. He snuck a peek at his pocket watch then addressed all of us. “It’s quarter past seven in Toyland now. Jason and I talked to some of the stuffed animals while you ladies were changing. This realm moves half as fast as Book. Let’s go to the ball like we told the king we would, but in one hour exactly, we’ll decide if we want to take the more drastic measures Girtha suggested.”

  “What time will that make it in Book?” Girtha asked.

  “In one hour,” Chance replied, “it’ll be 11:30 at night in Book.”

  “Geez! That’s cutting it really close with our time to reach Crisa,” I said.

  “Yes and no,” Chance replied. “Half an hour in Book gives us ten hours on Earth. Considering the next Midnight Law portal should take us directly to Crisa, if it does show up here soon then we’ll be completely fine.”

  Jason nodded. “Ten hours does seem like plenty of time. I’m game with holding out here a bit longer in that case. I’d rather kill more time in Toyland waiting for the right portal than take a gamble on randomly portal hopping without any clue of where on Earth we need to be.”

  That did seem reasonable. Thinking about our remaining time as a half hour in Book made my stomach hurt. Thinking about it as ten hours on Earth didn’t make me sweat at all.