With that, she hung up. I closed the Mark Two and stared into the mist. I hated that Lenore hadn’t listened to me. I hated more that she’d made some good points. I knew my reasoning regarding Alderon was good, but I couldn’t believe I hadn’t considered what would happen to the innocents throughout the realm if they were left undefended against rebellion attacks that night. It hadn’t even crossed my mind.
Was Lenore right? Was I inherently coldhearted?
As her words rung in my ears, I headed back to meet my friends in the dining room of the castle as we’d agreed to do before separating. SJ and Blue were already there. They were having breakfast with Ormé, Elaine, and Mindy. Jason and Daniel must’ve still been talking with Morgan and Gwenivere about the best way to get through the Passage Perelous.
When I entered, SJ and Blue raised their gazes to meet mine.
“What did she say?” SJ asked.
“We’re on our own,” I replied.
Blue shrugged nonchalantly. “What else is new?”
ver the next half hour many plans were formed.
I was going to lend my Hole Tracker to Ormé and a faction of the Gwenivere Brigade so they could get to Neverland, find Arthur and Peter, and free them from the antagonists. My friends and I were going to use our map of Camelot, which our hosts helped us improve, to get to Avalon. And Gwenivere and Morgan were going to move forward on their original plan with renewed vigor.
Before we even came along they’d been planning to siege the citadel on the night of the Vicennalia Aurora. With Rampart and his forces distracted by the festivities, it was the perfect time for an invasion. That was what Gwenivere’s closed-door meeting last night had been about. Some of the queen’s key allies across Camelot were having second thoughts about attacking Rampart’s forces, fearing that they weren’t ready. But with our arrival and word that Arthur was still alive, Gwenivere and Morgan were able to convince everyone to carry on with the plan.
And so, we decided on the following: My friends and I would retrieve Excalibur and rendezvous with Gwenivere’s troops at the edge of the Forest of Mists at five o’clock on the day of the Vicennalia Aurora. We’d help our new allies take the citadel, restore Gwenivere to the throne, and free Ozma. After that, we would return Ozma to Oz and use the sword to liberate Paige’s mind from Glinda’s memory stone. And finally, we’d head back to Book to aid the Fairy Godmothers at Alderon’s border and stop the antagonists from destroying our home realm before returning Excalibur to Arthur, its rightful owner.
Easy peasy.
JK. Not even close.
The newest information regarding the flying monkeys made things even trickier. My vision told me that one way or another, those flying monkeys were coming to our realm. There were a lot of ways this could happen. Alex could beat me to Excalibur, which would lead to Arian swapping the sword with Rampart for Ozma’s Simia Crown. If I succeeded in claiming Excalibur, Arian could still get Rampart to give him Ozma’s crown, probably by force. Or perhaps Arian would take Glinda’s Simia Crown during our inevitable confrontation with the witch in Oz.
Whatever ended up happening on that front, we had to assume two things going forward. One, Arian would get a Simia Crown at some point, so we should try to do the same in order to at least counteract the flying monkey attack. Two, whether Lenore wanted to listen to me or not, she needed backup and we were going to give it to her.
That part of the mission, however, seemed a million miles away. Just like fulfilling my oath to the Boar’s Mouth by getting the “lost king” to sit on Camelot’s throne. There were so many instances of possible death between now and the climax of this story arc that I wondered if it would be best to push factors like this out of mind for the near future and concentrate on the first task at hand. Our immediate obstacle was traversing the Passage Perelous. According to our hostesses, it could take anything from hours to days to weeks to get through it and reach the Isle of Avalon. Some who ventured inside never returned at all.
Given that, I wasn’t sure what the odds were that we could get to Avalon and back before sunset two days from now. When I raised this concern, Gwenivere laid it out quite plainly.
“If you are truly the Knight of the prophecy, you will return in time. If you are not, then you won’t make it in time and all will be lost.”
“Is there a third option?” Blue joked.
Gwenivere did not laugh. None of us did.
After our plans were set, Ormé and a troop of twelve girls from the Gwenivere Brigade geared up to leave straight away. I strapped my Hole Tracker to Ormé’s wrist as we stood on the edge of the castle’s outer wall.
“Be careful with it,” I said. “A really nice White Rabbit gave it to me and I owe him a rain check.”
“Will do,” Ormé replied with a smile.
The Gwenivere Brigade girls huddled together in three groups and Morgan began the process of creating a wind orb around them one unit at a time to transport them to the other side of the Poppy moat. When the Brigade was out of sight, Gwenivere and Morgan met with their attendants to further their plans. They had a lot of Mark Two calls to make.
While SJ, Blue, Jason, and Daniel got ready to depart, Elaine took me to her daughter’s old room. It was a tad awkward. The woman had been present at breakfast and during all of our planning, but she was nowhere near as vocal as Morgan or Gwenivere. She seemed quite timid, and I really hadn’t interacted with her beyond our first meeting. As we walked together to the room, I thanked her for healing Jason.
I also asked Elaine if there was any chance her healing magic could bring people back from the dead. Alas, she said it couldn’t. It was a long shot, I know, but Jason’s clock was ticking and I had no idea if my current magical chops were strong enough to save him.
I didn’t want to overemphasize this insecurity, but I did want to warn him of the fate that was closing in (or suggest that he wear extra sturdy armor under his shirt as we proceeded). Unfortunately, I hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to him alone this morning. I hoped an opportunity would present itself later. With SJ’s SRBs allowing us to remain in the same clothes for long periods of time, the battle of Jason’s death may not be in the immediate future. Still, I aimed to talk to him by the end of the day.
The room of Elaine the younger had dark rosewood floors with hues of rich red. Onyx paint covered the walls. Maroon curtains blocked out most of the natural light. The bed frame, desk, and armoire were made of iron.
“Are you sure this is okay?” I asked Elaine as I looked into the open closet.
“Take whatever you want,” Elaine said sadly as she ran her finger along the iron frame of the bed. “My daughter has likely been dead for some time, and I’ve made peace with that.”
I turned around, shocked that any parent could utter those words so calmly.
Elaine sighed heavily. “Ever since King Arthur was taken from us, this realm has been marked by death and despair. There have been many wars for the throne, many struggles even before Rampart came along.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “Morgan and I were both queens once, you know. She was married to King Urion, and I to King Nentres of Garlot. But both our husbands were killed in the conflicts. And now look at us. We are confined to live in this island of a castle, separated from everyone and everything. Our children are brave; our sons continue to fight and serve Gwenivere’s cause despite the risk. But years ago, a battalion of the Gwenivere Brigade, including my courageous Elaine, was attacked in the Passage Perelous. Only one Gwenivere Brigade girl made it back.”
“You don’t know for certain that your daughter was killed though,” I said, trying to be optimistic.
“But I do,” Elaine responded. “I know in a way that only a mother can. She is gone, like my husband and so many of my friends and relatives. And I accept that. I have to in order to keep breathing. I just wish …” She looked at me solemnly. “I just wish I could speak with her one last time.”
Elaine exhaled and stood up. “Her clothes should fit yo
u,” she said quickly as she headed for the door. “Maybe not the pants, but definitely the tops.”
She closed the door behind her with a soft click. I gazed again into the wardrobe of Elaine the younger. It still felt weird to go rifling through the girl’s things. But Blue was right; a person could only fight monsters and bad guys in different realms for so long without feeling like a change of clothes was necessary.
Keeping on my black combat boots and sturdy leggings, I grabbed a simple black tank top from one of the hangers and a forest green leather jacket from another. Straightening out the top in the mirror, I caught the reflection of a picture on the far wall.
The oil painting was of Elaine’s family. I assumed the young man in the center was her son Galeschin. He was short and had strawberry blond hair like Elaine. In this picture he was around Alex’s age.
King Nentres—proud and strong with a black beard and intense eyes—had his hand on the shoulder of the girl next to him. I guessed she was Elaine the younger. She had black hair like her father with short, choppy bangs across her forehead. Dark kohl rimmed her eyes, which made her look edgy and defiant.
Entranced, I touched my hand to the painting for a moment. Then I headed for the door.
Before leaving the room, I realized I’d left my backpack by the bed. On an impulse, I held out my hand and concentrated. I commanded the backpack to briefly come to life and come to me. My hand flared with its familiar golden glow and the backpack rose and moved to rest by my feet. I released my control and frowned. Thoughts crowded my head in regards to Liza’s revelations last night.
Magic Exhaustion was a formidable limitation. The fact that I had grown strong enough to potentially overcome it was pretty awesome. It meant I was getting more powerful. However, the new information Liza had shared was upsetting on two levels. First, while it was good to know that if my life was in peril I might be able to harness Magic Instinct through emotion and relinquishing control, I knew I wasn’t supposed to do either. That was fundamentally a bad road to go down because it’s what fed my Pure Magic Disease.
The other reason this whole thing irked me was that I was beginning to appreciate how much more powerful I could be if I did relinquish control and leaned on emotions. Between the incident with the giant and my immunity to Poppies, I had the potential to do a lot more than I was currently doing. And that was tempting in a toxic way.
As these thoughts whirled in my head as I stood on the threshold of Elaine’s room, I vowed I would try my best to avoid actively harnessing Magic Instinct. Having more power would be nice, but it was not worth the risk of falling deeper into the clutches of my disease. And frankly, even if being corrupted weren’t a risk, I liked being in control and I didn’t want to surrender it. I’d fought too long and hard to be a girl who was firmly in charge of her own destiny and lived by her own rules. I was not about to forfeit that mastery of free will for the sake of power. No matter how strong it could be …
he mist from the Poppies dissipated with each step as the five of us trekked through the forest away from the castle. Fully restored to health, Jason led the way with our newly revamped Camelot map while I pulled up the rear with my newly adjusted view on power. In tune with my wish to avoid using Magic Instinct whenever possible, I had let myself get wind orbed over the Poppies like everyone else. Today was a new day, and I was going to be in control.
We made it through the morning without incident, eventually emerging from the forest into an extensive valley dotted with villages. In the distance, a cluster of bluish mountains crowned the valley. The center of that range was our destination; it was where the Passage Perelous began.
The journey to the mountains was long and tedious. Around midday, we stopped at a tavern in one of the villages to grab a bite to eat. Morgan and Gwenivere had generously given us more money for our quest, which I had put in my backpack for safekeeping. There wasn’t much else inside the bag. Aside from the money, I had two granola bars, Daniel’s Mark Two (which he said I could hang on to until I got a new one), and my dream journal. It was such a slim volume; I’d almost forgotten it was in there.
I’d started writing the text last December to keep track of my dreams, which might offer insights of the future that I didn’t yet understand. Eventually I would need to add my most recent dreams to it, but who knew when I’d get a chance to do that. Being on a multi-dimensional quest didn’t exactly allow much time for journaling.
After we finished eating, we looked for the village stables. Morgan and Gwenivere hadn’t just given us money so we could buy lunch. They knew that some of the villages in the valley had stables with horses for rent, which would speed up our journey.
While my friends haggled with the stable men to make a deal, I wandered around to the side of the stables and sat down, flipping through my dream journal and scanning the bullet points.
Girls in red dresses, dancing at a ball with Chance, giant teddy bears, cheese balls falling from a serving tray, Chance sword fighting with Daniel—
“Moo!”
I jumped in surprise. I’d been so lost in thought that I hadn’t noticed a small brown cow that had wandered over. Her giant eyes stared at me.
“Come along, Milkshake,” her owner said, tugging the rope loosely tied around the cow’s neck. The cow mooed again and trotted after her owner.
I continued reading until my eyes landed on a bullet point halfway down.
Nyneve.
I snapped the book shut. So much had happened since I had woken up this morning that until now I hadn’t put two and two together. Gwenivere had mentioned Nyneve in her workshop! She was the half magic hunter who Merlin had taken on as a potions apprentice—the one he’d fallen in love with and who Gwenivere believed had something to do with his disappearance.
I had dreamed about Nyneve last night, as well as many nights ago when I was back at school. On both occasions I also dreamed about Jason’s death so, although my visions didn’t normally show me things in chronological order, I wondered if experiencing them together twice was a sign that they would happen in close proximity time-wise. If Jason’s fate was fast approaching, was Nyneve’s also nearby?
Jason’s fate …
I felt guilt well up inside me. Yes, I intended to talk to Jason regarding the closeness of his death as soon as I had a chance with him alone. However, since I hadn’t yet, all morning I’d been making casual conversation with my friends like everything was normal despite knowing one of them was meant to die soon. I knew I had to keep up these appearances because the others didn’t know about Jason’s doom, but I was surprised how easily I’d been able to block out my concern for him on the trek. It felt wrong that I was able to do that, even if it was necessary.
Lenore’s words echoed in my skull.
“I know your heart is destined for darkness. You have more inherent coldness in you than many Pure Magic carriers I’ve known in the past. It’s obvious in the way you care so little about people.”
“Hey! Are you looking for the bathroom too?”
I looked up and discovered Blue walking toward me. “Just reminding myself of some past dreams,” I replied, holding up my journal.
“You sure that’s all it is?” Blue asked, coming to stand in front of where I was sitting. “You’ve got your pensive-Crisa face on.”
“I have a pensive-Crisa face?”
“Uh-huh. Lately, it’s been one of your most frequent expressions. So, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just …” I bit my lip. “Blue, do you think I’m cold?”
My friend looked puzzled. The sunlight hit the back of her hair, making it look more golden than normal. “Where’s this coming from?”
“Lenore. She said that I’m coldhearted because I care more about keeping the Alderon In and Out Spell up than protecting the people of the realm who are in danger because of the commons rebellion. It really bothered me that she said that. I guess I could just use a second opinion.”
Blue sat down against the sta
ble wall next to me. “Well, do you think SJ is coldhearted?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Plenty. Crisa, you and I both know that SJ is one of the kindest, most compassionate people alive. But to people who don’t know her like you and I do, she might not seem that way. She is very logical and calculating. And those kinds of qualities can make someone seem cold. Sometimes you’re like SJ in that way. But just like it doesn’t make her cold, it doesn’t make you cold either. And anyway, you’re only half like her,” Blue said. “Your other half is a lot like me. While SJ runs on logic, I run on instinct. I’m all fists and fire, and you can be that way a lot of the time too. It just kind of varies depending on the situation. What doesn’t change is your intention to do what you believe is right. And that, my friend, is what matters.”
Blue slapped me on the leg affectionately then hopped up and began to walk away.
“Wait, you’re just going to make a speech like that and slap out?” I commented.
“Crisa, I love you. And I’m here for you. But I came out here for other reasons. I have a small bladder and a big lemonade sitting in it. Nature calls.”
The proprietor of the stables had seven horses. He allowed us to rent five with the caveat that he and his assistant ride us to our mountain destination. That way, they could rope up the steeds when we were done and steer them back home.
We agreed and saddled up.
As I was hoisting myself onto a caramel brown horse with white patches around his ankles, I saw SJ approach her steed gradually. The creature huffed and stamped his feet anxiously when he saw her coming.
“You okay?” I asked. “You know you can share a ride with me.”
“No, no,” SJ insisted, drawing closer to her horse. “You know I have been practicing. I can do this.” She scrambled on top of the horse and grasped the reins tightly. The horse whinnied and bucked a bit.
Crisanta Knight: To Death & Back Page 21