Crisanta Knight: To Death & Back

by Geanna Culbertson

  “A lot of people seem to feel that way,” I responded bluntly.

  Gwenivere raised an eyebrow. “I intended no offense, dear. I only mean the timing of your arrival is ideal. Having you and your powerful protagonist friends here gives us an advantage. I must talk with Morgan and the senior members of the Gwenivere Brigade now.” She touched the oak door in front of us. “I will speak with you tomorrow.”

  Hm. I guess I’m not invited to whatever meeting the queen is about to attend.

  That insulted me a bit and reinforced the idea that my friends and I were just tools to be called upon when it was convenient for the people whose roof we happened to be under.

  “Head down that hall and you’ll find your way back to the study,” the queen instructed. “One of the girls there can show you to your room, or to the kitchen if you’d like to have something to eat.”

  Now I was less insulted. After the day I’d had, I’d much rather have a snack than talk strategy.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “We shall have much to discuss by morning,” Gwenivere replied. She turned the handle and pushed the door open just a crack so I could not see inside. She glanced over her shoulder. “Rest well, Crisanta Knight. Things are about to get very interesting.”

  walked down the hall to find Mindy in the study, who then showed me to the kitchen. Once there I chowed down on a cold mutton leg with a glass of milk, grateful for the food and that my escort had left me alone to enjoy it.

  I’d gotten up early and it was getting late, but I still wasn’t ready to go to sleep—the curse of an active mind mingled with my dread of nightmares. In addition, Mindy had told me that Jason was still in the healing room and would probably be there for another hour or so. I wasn’t about to go to bed without knowing for sure that he was all right. So, to kill some time after I finished my snack, I explored the castle.

  Eventually I found the library. Given my history of getting attacked in libraries—Century City, the Forbidden Forest, my castle in Midveil—I probably should’ve been less comfortable in such a place. But this room was the most peaceful setting I had come across in a while. The fireplace roared with cozy flames. The dark-green velvet couches looked plush and inviting. Warm walnut shelves held books with beautiful, shimmering bindings. The decorative artwork in the room depicted tranquil landscapes. I was content to stay here for a while.

  After browsing through the shelves, I selected a book about Avalon with a lovely silver cover and one called Beasts of the Land, which was ruby red with a glittery spine. I nestled onto a couch to peruse them both, starting with the ruby one. When I flipped it open, however, I gasped and almost dropped it. An inscription inside the front cover read,

  Dear Crisanta Knight,

  This book contains some of the lesser-known details about the beasts in our land. I recommend the section on the Questor Beast. Might help later on.

  —Merlin

  My eyes nearly bugged out of my head.

  What the frack?

  Merlin had Pure Magic, which meant he could see the future just like Liza and me. This note implied that—at some point—years ago before he disappeared, he’d foreseen me being in Gwenivere’s castle and had planted this book for me to find.

  But why did he care? Who was I to him?

  I sped to the section on the Questor Beast. There were plenty of illustrations of different nightmarish animals in the book, but when I found the monster I was looking for I was certain that it was the most fearsome of them all.

  My arm hairs stood on end as I read about the oddity known as the Questor Beast—a creature that dwelled in the Passage Perelous, which my friends and I would have to go through to reach the Isle of Avalon. When we were in Neverland, Dorothy described the monster as frightening and gruesome. But seeing the various renderings in this book paired with the description of the monster’s abilities put a face to the wickedness and gave fear a context.

  The creature was massive. It had the body and thick legs of a dragon but from the shoulders sprouted five snake-like necks. Each neck bore the head of a leopard. A golden, spotted coat covered the monster’s skin. A long, thin tail protruded from its backside, ending in a rounded, spiked tip like a mace.

  The Questor Beast had great strength and speed, and given enough time it could grow back its heads if they were chopped off. In addition, it could spit acid, produce fog to camouflage itself, and kill anything with its poisonous teeth and claws. A single bite or scratch was deadly.

  As I read on, I learned that the Questor Beast was also all-but-impossible to destroy. Over the years, many former Knights of the Round Table had dedicated themselves to hunting it. Some had even succeeded. But there was a difference between killing the creature and destroying it. Unless it was properly slain, the monster would disappear and reform somewhere else in the Passage Perelous.

  The only way to stop it permanently was by piercing the Questor Beast through the heart, which was located under the chin of its center head. But even this had a catch. According to the book, the Questor Beast would only be forever destroyed if it were “stabbed through the heart by someone with the death blood of their one true love on their hands.”

  Yikes. I hoped we would not encounter that thing on our way to Avalon. Unfortunately, Merlin’s note left me with a queasy feeling that it was inevitable.

  As I flipped through the book, each passage and picture relating to the Questor Beast was more awful than the last. When I turned to the page that described how the monster could lock onto the fear of its prey and track them like a possessed hound, I shut the volume. That was more than enough horror for one day.

  I tossed the copy aside and picked up the other text I’d plucked from the shelf. Skimming through the table of contents, the chapter on the Lady of the Lake caught my eye and I turned to the corresponding section. As I read, I remembered some of the information that Arthur had shared with us back in Neverland.

  The Isle of Avalon was home to all kinds of enchanted obstacles. The Lady of the Lake—the guardian of Avalon—was one of them. We had to show her respect and do exactly as she asked. If we deviated even a little from her instruction, we would die. If the spirits of her lake did not deem us worthy, we would die. And if we didn’t pass any of the tests awaiting us on the isle, we would also die. Basically, there was a high probability that we would die.

  What else is new?

  I passed through the pages until I saw an entry about another familiar topic—the Excalibur Decision.

  If we managed to reach Excalibur, whoever claimed the sword (me, hopefully) would need to sacrifice a decision. What that meant was there would come a time in my future when I would be faced with a life-defining choice and I would not choose wisely. That was the cost of claiming the great power of Excalibur—relinquishing some part of my fate to a negative consequence of my own design.

  I had no way of knowing what this decision would be, nor when it would occur. I only knew that when I made the bad choice, the Lady of the Lake would appear before me to confirm that I had finally paid the price.

  Staring at her rendering in the book—a pale-blue ghostly woman with raven eyes and dark flowing hair—I shivered at the thought.

  I’d had to pay some hefty prices on this journey. Heck, just a few hours ago the Boar’s Mouth had sucked out a piece of my soul. But the idea of surrendering a decision to poor judgment made me more uneasy still. If there was one thing I valued, it was the ability to make my own choices. Choices were what defined us and gave us power over our destiny. To have to sacrifice one was a hard cost.

  Sigh. Sometimes being the lead protagonist on an adventure can really suck.

  I read for a bit longer until my eyes started to droop. I knew I needed sleep, even if that meant having bad dreams. Looking at the clock on the wall, I confirmed it had been over an hour since I’d spoken with Mindy. I hoped Jason was all done being healed.

  My friends and I had been invited to stay in the guest
rooms on the fourth floor. Mine was to be the fifth door down the hall while Jason’s was the first. Mindy said he would be taken there once Elaine finished with him. After I put away the library books, that’s where I headed.

  When I arrived at Jason’s room I knocked on the door. When there was no response, I slowly pushed it open.

  “Jason?” I whispered.

  I peeked into the room and spotted him propped upright with pillows in a dark blue canopy bed. The bedframe was gold and reflected the glow of the blazing fireplace. His chest was wrapped in a thick bandage. The jacket he’d been wearing at the party hung on a coatrack beside his bed. When he saw me he held a finger to his lips and pointed across the room. Blue was fast asleep on a navy velvet couch, her face smushed into the armrest at an odd angle.

  Jason waved me over to the bed, so I shut the door quietly and went to him.

  “I didn’t want to wake her,” Jason whispered, gesturing to Blue. “After Elaine brought me here, I told Blue a dozen times that I was healed, but she refused to leave. She passed out ten minutes ago.”

  “Are you healed?” I asked quietly.

  “Elaine did a great job. She said I need to rest, but I’ll be on my feet by morning.” He patted the bed. “You wanna sit? I’d offer you the couch but …” His eyes drifted to Blue again.

  I climbed onto the bed next to him, scooching against the pillows. We stared companionably at the fire.

  “How are you doing?” he asked after a minute.

  I was so surprised by the question I let out a slight laugh. “I’m doing great. You?”

  “Fantastic,” he replied with a smile. Then after a beat his smile faded and a troubled look crossed his face. “Crisa …” he began. “Your magic is getting stronger. Isn’t it?”

  I pivoted my body to face him. “Yeah,” I responded slowly. “It is. Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I’ve just been thinking. I’ve seen you do some amazing things lately. You literally drained the life energy from a giant this morning. It just makes me wonder … If I’m going to die like your vision foresaw, do you think there’s a chance you can bring me back? Your power is life after all, right? There could be endless applications.”

  I let out a deep breath. “Honestly, I’ve been thinking the same thing. I just didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure. Eventually my powers might grow strong enough to restore life to a person. But we don’t know when that vision of you dying will come to pass. There’s a difference between it occurring next week or next year. Yes, I took the life from that giant this morning. But that was an accident. My magic just reacted, like it did when I crossed the Poppy field. I still don’t know how to consciously make it that strong and completely control it. And if I’m being reasonable, I don’t know if I’ll be able to figure it out in time.”

  Jason looked at me somberly. The expression stirred empathy inside me and also an additional layer of drive that I’d been too timid to acknowledge until now.

  “But then … I’ve never been known to be particularly reasonable, have I?”

  Jason’s expression shifted. I knew I was playing with fire, but I didn’t care. Jason was one of my best friends and despite my dark moments, I was a girl rooted in hope, not cynicism. Every part of me and my story was embedded in the idea that the things we wanted most in life might be the hardest to get, but they were worth fighting for. So no matter the odds or the toll, I would not stop fighting for the win, nor would I ever stop believing that the win was possible. I had to believe that. There was no life to live if I didn’t.

  I sat up straighter and looked Jason straight in the eyes.

  “When we were in Neverland, I told you that I believed we could save you,” I said. “My magic might be able to do that. So I don’t care about the odds against us. I don’t care how much time or power it takes. I’m going to make myself strong enough. I will learn to control my magic so that when you sacrifice yourself to protect Blue like I’ve foreseen, I will be there to resurrect you. Nothing in this world—or any other—can stop me.”

  Jason didn’t say anything; he just stared at me.

  “You believe me, don’t you?” I asked.

  “I do,” he responded. “And I trust you, Crisa, I just … I worry about another deadline.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The Vicennalia Aurora. When Julian and Eva told us about the Four Waters of Paradise, I know we were all thinking the same thing. Those waters can be your salvation. If we recover them on Avalon when we’re looking for Excalibur, you could use them to cure your Pure Magic Disease the same way she did during the event.”

  “Yeah,” I admitted. “I was counting on it.”

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  His question confused me. “Why wouldn’t it be? Liza’s prophecy says I’m either meant to be responsible for stopping the antagonists or granting them success. The outcome has to be linked to whether my magic turns me dark or not. If I were cured of Pure Magic Disease, I would never have to worry about that again.”

  “Yes, but curing you would mean that your magic would become normal; it would lose its purity, and as a result a lot of its power.”

  “I know,” I said. “And I know that power has helped us a lot recently. But it still might be too much of a gamble to keep. Liza has been training me to control my magic, but the fact remains that she, and apparently Merlin, are the only known carriers of Pure Magic Disease who didn’t turn dark. The idea that I can defy the odds too has been fueling me forward up ’til now, but if I’m offered an out, wouldn’t it be more sensible for me to take it?”

  “You’ve never been known to be particularly sensible either, Crisa,” Jason replied. “What does your heart tell you?”

  “My heart.” I laughed bitterly. “My heart tells me that if I continue down this path, I might not have a heart to worry about anymore. It’ll turn dark and be worse than useless—it’ll be dangerous.” I leaned back against the headboard. “You want to know something that I haven’t admitted to anyone? I really like my magic. I like feeling powerful, and I’m grateful for all the things I’ve been able to do and all the people I’ve been able to help. But I’m scared. I don’t want to turn dark. And after today with that giant, I’m worried that if I stay on this road I won’t be able to stop.”

  “Crisa, I can’t tell you what to do when it comes to deciding whether or not to keep your Pure Magic if we find the waters on Avalon,” Jason said. “From a selfish point of view, I hope you decide not to take the cure when the Vicennalia Aurora hits. You probably won’t have the strength to bring me back if my death comes after you’re cured.”

  Hmm. I hadn’t thought about that.

  The Vicennalia Aurora was the only day when the Four Waters of Paradise could work because the day’s magic fluctuations made carriers of magic vulnerable. If Jason’s death happened afterward and I’d already been cured, my promise to save him would fall flat. Normal magic wouldn’t be able to revive him; I hadn’t even proven that Pure Magic could.

  “That aside,” Jason continued. “I want what’s best for you, and as it happens, I also think that means saving your Pure Magic. Your turning dark may play a key role in the antagonists’ triumph, but I believe you using your magic for good is what will lead to their demise. You’ve been given an important gift. You can do incredible things. That giant of Geene is just one example.”

  “How can you call that incredible?” I responded. “Don’t you think it was wrong of me to suck the life from another living creature? To kill that giant in cold blood?”

  “No. I don’t,” Jason said plainly.

  He paused. The firelight reflected in his bright blue eyes. “Crisa,” he said. “How much do you know about Lord Channing’s?”

  His question came as a surprise.

  “Um, I know all about Twenty-Three Skidd since I love the sport and made it onto one of your school’s teams this semester,” I said. “You’ve mentioned some
of your classes over the years and I know students can leave school periodically for quests. But that’s about all I’ve got. I really don’t know that much about your day-to-day.”

  “That’s probably for the best,” Jason responded.

  “How do you mean?”

  “There’s a lot about Lord Channing’s that you don’t know, Crisa,” Jason said. “Aside from the fact that our school doesn’t have an In and Out Spell protecting it like yours does, there’s a reason why Lady Agnue’s students are never invited to our campus except for the Twenty-Three Skidd finals matches in the spring. Just like all of your students have to take Damsel in Distress classes, we have requirements of our own—ones that may not reflect the personalities of every student, but that are mandatory for all heroes and princes nonetheless.”

  The serious tone of Jason’s voice told me that he was about to divulge something important. I sat uncharacteristically still and listened quietly.

  “At Lord Channing’s, we’re taught the importance of vanquishing enemies,” Jason said. “That’s why we’re allowed to go on quests. In fact, it’s mandatory we go on at least two before we graduate because there are two tests we need to pass during our junior and senior years. They’re called Valiancy Tests. The first requires that we slay a monster. The second … well, we have to kill an antagonist.”

  “You mean to tell me that the students at your school can’t graduate until they’ve killed somebody?”

  “Not just somebody,” Jason replied earnestly. “A bad guy. When you’re a hero, you have to be able to stand up to a villain and have the courage and strength to end them. That’s what’s expected of us. I’m not saying it’s right. I’m just saying that it’s a part of our archetype. While princesses are expected to show justice in the form of mercy, we’re expected to exhibit justice in the form of decisive, deadly action.”

  He took a deep breath. “Didn’t you ever wonder why Daniel and I weren’t punished for ditching school last semester? You, Blue, and SJ were given detention for an eternity. We got a slap on the wrist. Why do you think we didn’t get reprimanded more severely?”