Inherent Fate

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Inherent Fate Page 34

by Geanna Culbertson


  Blue shrugged and looked at the queen. “Witches and monsters, what’re you gonna do?”

  “Given that,” SJ continued, “we understand if you would like to take back your offer of a favor. We hardly deserve it for the thievery.”

  The queen blinked and then huffed in amusement. She smiled warmly at SJ. “Dear, you are a princess. How many horses does your family own?”

  “I do not know. A few dozen perhaps.”

  “My family—like most royal families—is no different. So given that you crossed worlds and various dangers in order to bring me closure to my daughter’s mystery and restore my life’s peace, I think we can forgive you for a few missing steeds. My offer of a favor still stands, and always will.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Jason responded. “That’s more than we deserve.”

  “You are welcome,” the queen replied. “Now, would you children like anything to eat before you depart, or perhaps you would like to stay the night?”

  “Again, thank you,” Jason said. “But we’ve been gone a while, and . . .” He paused and looked at the rest of us to see if we were thinking the same thing.

  I nodded. “I think it’s time we go home.”

  “All right then.” The queen stood from her chair. We followed her lead and began to rise as well. But before I could get up, she was standing in front of me.

  “Crisanta, dear, would you mind if I had a word with you in private before you leave?”

  I glanced at my friends in confusion but agreed.

  “This will not take long,” the queen told the others. “Crisanta will meet you in the main foyer in a matter of minutes.”

  I followed her iridescent pumps into the hall one click after another, wondering how hard it must’ve been adjusting from a fish tail to high heels. I’d been human my entire life and I still couldn’t move with that much grace.

  he queen led me to a secluded balcony with a single glass table and a set of iron chairs facing the placid waters. My royal escort sat in one chair and I placed myself in the other.

  “Crisanta,” she began, “when you and your friends described the events that transpired when meeting my daughter, you mentioned you learned she was gifted with a special magical ability.”

  “Yeah. Healing,” I replied. “She told us that all Mer people, or people of Mer descent, are born with a magical power.”

  “That is correct,” the queen affirmed. “Mine, for example, is empathy.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Does that count? I mean, no disrespect, but that seems like more of a personality trait than a superpower.”

  “Normally that would be true,” the queen admitted. “But my ability is a bit more developed than that. It allows me to read hearts the way others with psychic abilities might read minds. It lets me feel everything that a person is feeling—like an open window to the soul of another.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said slowly. “So, the reason you wanted to talk me is . . .”

  “I can feel the conflict inside of you. It has always been there, but it has grown quite complex in the last few weeks. Your friends, like most people, all have their worries and troubles. But you, my dear, have been at war with yourself for quite some time. I can sense that this internal conflict came very close to tearing you apart, but recently it has begun to work itself out.”

  I blinked, taken aback by the frank analysis.

  “You and your friends did something very special for me today,” the queen went on. “So I would like to try and help you find the same kind of peace you have given me by assisting with your internal progress.”

  I leaned my head back against the chair and exhaled deeply. Ashlyn’s enchanted locket glowed vaguely purple against the queen’s neck from its new In and Out Spell-breaking ability. We hadn’t mentioned this ability to the queen. That was another story. I shifted my eyes to the glass table, which reflected the moon.

  “I appreciate the gesture, Your Majesty,” I replied. “But I’m afraid fixing me isn’t that simple.”

  “Because you think you cannot accept who you are?”

  “Not exactly,” I responded. “I used to think that I was defined by other people’s opinions of me. And I let myself get lost in them. But then . . .”

  “Something changed,” the queen stated, finishing my sentence.

  I nodded. “Daniel—the kid out there with the brown hair and the know-it-all face—he helped me realize that the only person who gets to choose who I am is me.”

  “And you think he is right?”

  “I do. I just . . .” I sighed and stared out at the waters, which were now the same shade of dark blue as the queen’s eyes. “I feel like knowing who I am, accepting who I am, isn’t enough. I’ve come to accept a lot about myself in recent weeks—good things, bad things, incredible things, terrible things. I’ve gotten to a point where I genuinely think I’ve accepted everything I am and everything I’m not. Yet something still feels like it’s missing.

  “I thought that when I finally knew who I was I would feel better inside—stronger, more confident. I thought that I’d undergo some big, liberating epiphany. But I haven’t and I think it’s because . . . I don’t entirely like who I am. There are aspects that I’m proud of. But overall I feel like it’s not enough. While I may be heroic, I’m not the hero I wish I were. And while I may be princessy, I’m not the admirable princess I wish I were either. I’m just Crisanta Knight. And I don’t know if it’s my pride or my shame talking, but I’m not satisfied with who that girl is, with who I am. Somehow . . . I don’t know. Somehow, I hoped I could be more.”

  The queen nodded with understanding. Then, much to my surprise, she took my hand. “Crisanta, sweetheart, did you ever stop to consider that maybe the reason you feel so conflicted is because you have been asking yourself the wrong question?”

  I pulled my hand away gingerly. Touchy-feely was not really my scene, but I didn’t want to offend the queen either. “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “The question ‘who am I?’ seems to be the great question that drives many of us,” the queen said thoughtfully. “It is certainly what underlies the thematic elements of most stories, so please do not mistake what I am about to tell you as an implication that it is a worthless inquiry. But the truth is, I do not believe the question matters as much as people think. The simple reason for this is that the answer changes all the time.

  “Who you are as a person is always in flux; it is not a constant because every day we are changing just like the world around us—we are growing and learning and adapting and becoming something new. Thus, trying to find a finite definition for who you are is irrelevant because who you are today could very well be different from the person you will become next week or next month or next year. Knowing this, I believe that there is a far better question people should ask themselves in life. And that is, ‘Who do I want to be?’

  “It is the answer to this question that defines us more than anything else, because this is what defines our choices. And that is what a person is truly molded by in the end. Their choices. Each path that they do or do not decide to take, big and small. For there is so much about this great world that is out of our control, but our choices—those are ours alone. And in deciding who you want be, you are giving your choices a sense of direction—a sense of purpose that will drive you and influence your destiny.

  “So my advice to you, Crisanta, is to move on from accepting who you are. That is an important part of total self-acceptance, but it is not the only part. The other side of that coin is deciding and accepting who you want to be. Even if you are not that girl right now, in actively accepting that you want to be her, your choices will reflect that, and every day you will become more like her as a result.

  “To summarize, my dear girl, if this Crisanta Knight is not enough for you,” the queen gestured at my general person, “then simply stop being her. Let that girl go and accept who you want to be instead. Because if you feel like you could be something more, then yo
u have a responsibility to yourself to see that you become just that. And once you accept this, I promise you, you will finally feel whole.”

  I spent a great deal of the night reflecting on the queen’s advice.

  After we’d said our goodbyes to the royal family, my friends and I retrieved our Pegasi from the castle stables where we’d stashed them upon embarking on our search for Ashlyn on Earth. It felt like an eternity since we’d left them there, but in reality (and due to the Earth-to-Book time difference) it’d only been a couple of days. When we asked the queen about the Pegasi before leaving the castle, she’d informed us that the staff had found the creatures and had been taking care of them.

  I was grateful for that—glad we could return to school with the steeds. We’d already lost two Pegasi and a carriage on this adventure. With all the trouble we were going to be in when we returned, losing more of the schools’ property wouldn’t improve our situation.

  On our way back to school Daniel and Jason rode on individual steeds while SJ paired with Blue on the third Pegasus (my favorite, Sadie). SJ was never a fan of horses, but somehow an enchanted horse seemed like a less scary transport option than a fire-breathing dragon.

  I rode back on Lucky alone. The air got progressively colder as the skies became darker. And yet, the more I thought on the queen’s words, the brighter my heart and mind burned. Enlightenment was building inside me, priming for its dawn.

  We arrived back at Lady Agnue’s a few hours before sunrise. All six of us (including Lucky) passed through the In and Out Spell around the campus effortlessly. We were no longer hindered by such things. And since our school’s simpler version of the spell was never designed to keep animals from passing through, the Pegasi fazed through with just as much ease.

  We didn’t have much time for goodbyes. While Lucky’s landing was not particularly loud, his size drew the attention of every guard on duty. Within seconds of touching down in the practice fields, guards began to rush toward us.

  “Good luck,” Jason said as he quickly hugged each of us. “I hope Lady Agnue doesn’t roast you.”

  I smirked. “Considering the amount of firepower we brought back, I hardly think she has anything on us.” Lucky snorted, as if he agreed.

  Daniel wasn’t a hugger, but SJ hugged him anyways. Blue punched him amicably in the arm. “See you boys at the next ball, I guess.”

  “Assuming we are not placed under house arrest for the rest of the school year,” SJ said, nodding at the guards headed for us.

  The Pegasi belonged to Lord Channing’s, so Daniel and Jason hopped back on their steeds. Jason rapidly tied a rope to the saddle of the third Pegasus so it would follow them. It was best if the boys weren’t here when the guards arrived. Which meant they had about thirty seconds to lift off.

  Looking up at Daniel on his Pegasus in the shadow of the moon, I felt my heart beat slower. I couldn’t tell you why. I just felt its rhythm change in my chest. Since the beginning Daniel and my relationship had been full of fiery emotions, but the energy between us finally felt at peace. We’d changed. We were friends now. Of all the incredible things to come out of this journey, that was one of the twists I was most grateful for.

  “You were right,” I said.

  “I’m right a lot,” he said. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  I shook my head and smiled at him. “We were able to finish this story together.”

  “Time to go, man,” Jason said to Daniel. He kicked his Pegasus’s side. Pairs of brilliant, holographic wings sprouted from the creature’s back, as well as the back of the second steed.

  “Come on, Knight,” Daniel replied with mischief in his eyes. “Who says this story is finished?”

  He gave his own Pegasus a kick. The pure black steed’s eyes blazed silver and matching wings sprouted from his back. Jason and Daniel shot into the sky with a gust of wind moments before the guards reached us.

  After forty minutes, thirty guards, and two warnings for the guards not to provoke my pet dragon, my friends and I were standing in our headmistress’s office while Lucky was being babysat by school security.

  I’d never seen Lady Agnue in her pajamas before. And this was no exception.

  The woman had somehow managed to make herself look headmistress-ready at four o’ clock in the morning with barely half an hour’s notice of our arrival. Her brown hair was twisted into a bun. Her flowing, dark green dress was offset by her pale expression and sharp features.

  Our headmistress glared at us from behind her desk. As she sat there—the light from the moon shining in from the grand window behind her high-backed chair—I noted the fascinating contradiction of her vicious eyes. How they could be such a warm shade of copper yet still seem so cold was a marvel.

  The four of us had been at it for about twenty minutes now. On our return journey to school my friends and I had agreed that we’d share our most notable revelations with our headmasters when they inevitably took us in for questioning.

  There were certain aspects of the journey we were going to keep to ourselves. Finding Ashlyn was the private business of the Adelaide royal family. My magic was my business. The holes in the In and Out Spell were too precious a revelation to divulge. We didn’t have proof of the ambassadors’ book-related deception and Lena Lenore had forced us into silence about them anyways.

  But apart from that we wanted to communicate the truth. From Shadow Guardians to antagonist plots to the real story of the Author, we felt we owed it to the other protagonists at school to share the information we’d discovered and warn them about what was coming. They needed to know what kind of threats we were dealing with. Moreover, we felt they deserved to understand that they weren’t bound to the Author’s words and it was their own choices that would inspire their fates, not the other way around.

  We thought that our headmasters would agree and that they’d understand the importance of accepting this information and sharing it with the students.

  We thought wrong.

  This confrontation was turning out to be nothing like we’d expected. For starters, we’d been surprised to learn that Lady Agnue hadn’t told our parents we were missing. For all our families knew, we’d never left school. It seemed the headmistress wanted to save face. Having three girls (two of them princesses) find a way to escape school and get past the In and Out Spell hardly made it look like she had things under control.

  The second realization that stunned us was how obstinate she was being about our revelations. I hoped the initiative was going better with the boys over at Lord Channing’s, because our attempts to reason with Lady Agnue so far had been in vain. I didn’t know if it was because she was stubborn or stupid, but the woman would not listen.

  “Lady Agnue, you’re not hearing us,” Blue interrupted for about the twelfth time. “The Author isn’t what you think she is!”

  Once again the headmistress dismissed the claim with a wave of her hand as if it were nothing. “Children,” she began through thinly veiled contempt, “I do not know what you intended to accomplish with these wild stories of yours. But if they are merely a ploy to lessen your punishment, then let me stop you right there.”

  “Headmistress, these are not stories; they are truths,” SJ insisted.

  “They are nonsense is what they are,” Lady Agnue responded. “I mean, antagonist rebellions, and Shadow Guardians, and finding the Author? Complete lies—that is what I say.”

  “But we did find her,” I argued back. “We’re telling you the truth, Lady Agnue. The antagonists are not going away; they’re coming for us—all of us. What’s more, there are kids at this school that are high on their hit list and if you don’t tell them and their parents and the teachers and everyone else about what’s happening, then—”

  “Then what?” the headmistress interjected. “The three of you will try to get people to listen to your deranged, rambling theories?”

  “Maybe we will,” I said firmly.

  “And what, Miss Knight, make
s you think that anyone will believe you?”

  “Absolutely nothing,” I replied calmly. “But you know what? That doesn’t matter. Because even if everyone thinks we’re crazy, they won’t be able to un-hear what we tell them. It’ll be out there—the what-ifs simmering in the back of their minds. What if the Author doesn’t control us? What if In and Out Spells aren’t impenetrable? What if we are not safe from Alderon and its antagonists? And what if all these protagonists’ deranged, rambling theories are more than just theories; what if they’re true?”

  My eyes locked with our headmistress’s defiantly as I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “We encountered a lot of different types of people in our time away from school, Lady Agnue. Godmothers, ambassadors, villains, century-old legends—you name it. And you know what all those people had in common with one another? You know what they all have in common with you? They taught us the power of an idea—about how it can spread and grow and take people over. Maybe not at first, but with enough time and encouragement, it can change them. It can restructure and shift the way they look at the world until one day they go along with the notion completely, forgetting the old ways and choosing to believe in something new.

  “Think about it, Lady Agnue. The tradition and order you love so much is slowly, progressively disappearing. Do you honestly think it matters whether or not anyone believes us at first? Or is it really just a matter of time?”

  Lady Agnue glared at me steadily. Then without breaking eye contact she gestured to the door. “SJ, Blue . . . get out.”

  “What? No way!” Blue protested.

  “That was not a request.”

  “Neither is our insistence on staying,” SJ countered. “We are not going anywhere.”

  Lady Agnue turned to my friends. “Fine then,” she said. “I was just going to give you both a month of detention in the school’s prison towers, but since you continue to behave disobediently I am increasing it to two.”

 

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