Crisanta Knight: The Lost King

by Culbertson, Geanna;

  “Arthur?” I called.

  “In here.” Arthur’s voice came from the stall, along with some rustling. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

  “I wouldn’t believe that,” the little woman whispered to me. “He’s been in there a while.” She waddled back up the aisle, leaving me to wait.

  I paced around for a moment as goose bumps prickled my skin. It was pretty cold in here. I rummaged through a nearby clothes rack and pulled out a navy jacket with black velvet shoulder pads and military-style gold buttons. It was nice and soft, so I put it on for warmth. I wasn’t sure if it went with my outfit—black leggings, red dress, silvery hexagon-patterned belt—but I liked it.

  I sat on the stool with my hands resting against my knees. A rectangular rug with a maroon floral design ran from my stool to the changing room. It lay at a weird angle.

  “Sorry this is taking so long,” Arthur said from behind the curtain. He grunted in frustration and I heard a couple of thuds like he’d hit himself against the wall. “It’s taken me a while to find a shirt that fits and that doesn’t have Rampart’s face on it.”

  “It’s no problem,” I said. Rustling continued behind the curtain. “Ormé and the others are doing some last-minute planning with Gwenivere.”

  The rustling stopped. Arthur didn’t say anything.

  “She’ll be so excited to see you,” I said, trying to end the uncomfortable silence.

  No luck. The awkward lull continued.

  Finally, Arthur responded.

  “I hope you don’t think less of me,” he said, “but I confess I’m a bit wary about the re-introduction. My wife is a magnificent, fierce, and very noble woman. With or without me, she is a queen in all forms. What do you say to such a woman after not seeing her for seven years?”

  “I don’t think you have to say anything,” I replied. “I’ve heard your wife talk about you. It’s easy to tell that she is still completely devoted to you. Believe me, you just being there will be enough.”

  “Curses,” Arthur mumbled from behind his curtain.

  “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep, I just—”

  “No, it’s not you,” Arthur said. “That’s the third time I’ve almost dislocated a shoulder trying to get dressed in this forsakenly small room.”

  Something clattered behind me and I turned to see Blue coming down the aisle with Peter behind her. She quickly picked up the bobble head she’d knocked to the floor and zipped over. Peter followed her on foot to remain inconspicuous whilst sipping a cup of hot chocolate.

  I stood abruptly. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” Blue said.

  Peter looked around to make sure we were alone then flew up to sit on one of the tall stacks of magazines. He picked up a copy from the top of an adjacent tower and began to lazily flip through it with one hand.

  “Listen,” Blue said, joining me and talking in a hasty whisper. “This isn’t about our conversation before. I need to show you something that I—”

  Arthur threw back the changing-room curtain and stepped out of the small stall, which I wasn’t sure how he’d fit into to begin with. A shirt was caught around his shoulders, and with a grunt he slid out of it, then put it on properly. It was burnt orange and fit him well, but he did not put it on fast enough to keep my friend and I from checking out his abs.

  “Hot dang,” Blue said under her breath.

  I elbowed her in the ribs.

  Arthur put on a dark olive jacket and then attached a new leather sheath to his belt. It already had Excalibur tucked safely inside.

  “I’m going to pay,” Arthur said, not noticing our reaction. “Join me?”

  “In a minute,” I said.

  He smiled at us and glanced up at Peter. “Let’s go, kid.”

  “You got it, boss,” Peter said, flying down to land beside him. “But you’re also buying me a box of fireworks I saw by the register.”

  “You don’t need those.”

  “We’re going to war, man. Grant a guy a last request.”

  The pair disappeared from view. When they were gone, Blue dramatically fanned her face with her hand. “Did you see that guy?”

  “If by that guy you mean the king of Camelot, yes, Blue, I saw him.”

  She smiled widely. “I didn’t know adults could be so—”

  I smacked her on the arm. “Would you rein it in? You’re practically drooling. And anyway, I thought you were all about Jason.”

  This got Blue’s attention. Her eyes widened in panic and this time she elbowed me in the ribs. “Not so loud. You want the whole ferry to know?”

  “Relax,” I said. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  Her secret was actually annoying the bejeezus out of me, but what could I do?

  I’d known for a while that Blue had feelings for Jason. But when he was killed this morning she’d gotten his blood on her hands. Not the craziest detail in the world, but then afterward she killed the Questor Beast, which could only be killed by someone with the death blood of their true love on their hands. I was the only one who knew this tiny detail about the monster though, which meant I was the only person who knew that her feelings were more than a schoolgirl crush. Making things more complicated, I’d accidentally learned that Jason liked Blue too. Of course he’d sworn me to secrecy as well, so now I had two best friends with undisclosed affections for one another I couldn’t reveal.

  Fan-frickin-tastic.

  It would make life so much easier to blurt the truth out to both of them; however, I strictly refused to do that. I would keep their secrets because A) they were my friends and trusted me, B) we had a lot of dangerous stuff going on that required our full focus, and C) I was not about to interfere with their lives.

  There were already plenty of magical people in our world spouting prophecies that screwed stuff up and made things complicated and awkward. I was not going to be one of those people. I’d learned through our adventures that knowing the future wasn’t always a good thing. I was also beginning to learn that sharing visions of foresight had serious consequences too. Just look at what happened with Arthur’s son because Merlin didn’t keep his mouth shut. Would Alex and I even be here if Merlin’s Great Lights Prophecy hadn’t designated us as candidates to claim Excalibur? Would Arian and Mauvrey have turned my brother into the monster he was today if not for the same reason?

  I didn’t know. But I did know that I never wanted to be like Merlin or even our realm’s “Author,” Liza, who imposed themselves onto others’ destinies with what they knew. That was a cruelty I vowed to never lay upon anyone. Blue and Jason deserved to figure out who they were to each other for themselves, just as we all deserved the chance to find our way to our own futures.

  “You know, just because I like Jason doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate fine-looking guys when they present themselves,” Blue said, folding her arms.

  “You’re right, you’re right. I was only teasing,” I responded wryly. “Now you said you wanted to show me something?”

  “Yeah.” Blue’s expression softened and she uncrossed her arms. “I was finishing my hot chocolate when some other passengers came to stand by the railing. Since we’re trying to keep a low profile I decided to find another place to hang. I was making my way below deck when this started to happen.”

  Blue held out her hands with the palms up. They looked normal. Then Blue closed her eyes. When she opened them again they flashed Questor Beast green and a faint stream of fog began to spiral out of her palms.

  “Blue!” I gasped.

  “I know.” Blue closed her fists and the fog stopped. “More of the Questor Beast’s powers are manifesting. First the acid sneeze, now this? I’m freaking out. I mean, what if I grow a mace tail? Can I fire my teeth like poison daggers? If my sneezes are made of acid, does that mean if I rub my nose against my shirt, it will disintegrate? Crisa, I don’t want to have five heads.”

  “Calm down,” I said. “It looked like you were summoning the fog in the same way I sum
mon my magic. If you continue to develop Questor Beast powers, I’m sure you can learn to control them. Right now, though, the fog trick doesn’t seem that strong and you’ve only sneezed twice. As long as we keep you away from pepper, no one is in mortal danger. We’ll figure this out when we get back to Book. I promise.”

  “All right, just—”

  A horn sounded and I felt the ferry start to slow down.

  “Let’s go,” I said, starting toward the front of the shop. “The boat must be getting near the dock.”

  We caught up with Arthur and Peter as the kid stuffed a box of fireworks into a new satchel slung over his shoulder (something else Arthur had bought him, I supposed). It matched the leather pouch on Peter’s belt where he kept his extra fairy dust. When they saw us coming, Arthur nodded at me.

  “I bought you that jacket,” he said, pointing to the navy number I was still wearing. “You looked comfortable.”

  “Huh? Oh, thanks. It was cold in here. I forgot I put it on.”

  The four of us proceeded above deck and made our way to the front of the ferry. Ormé and the Gwenivere Brigade were already there, alongside SJ. The water still glittered, but it wouldn’t for much longer. Sundown was imminent and the Aurora was barely a couple of hours away. This story arc’s climax was getting as close as the shore.

  “Are you ready?” SJ asked as I came to stand next to her.

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  Arthur approached and we all naturally parted for him. He stood at the railing beside us. The pale blue and washed gold of the sky reflected in his serious, steadfast eyes. The light wind swept back his blond hair. He looked strong and calm.

  Arthur stared at the mountains ahead for a moment, taking them in. Then he turned to Ormé with a chillingly determined expression. “Let’s take back our kingdom.”

  s we’d assumed, most of the passengers on the ferry were headed for the festivities in Camelot’s citadel. Carriage cabs lined the dock, waiting to take people over the mountains then down the other side. Our team split up and boarded three separate vehicles.

  Arthur, Peter, and a few Gwenivere Brigade girls were in the first carriage. Ormé and the rest of the Brigade were in the second. SJ, Blue, and I rode in the third. When our carriage started on its way, SJ caught us up on her conversation with Dorothy.

  “Did you tell her that I saved Arthur?” I asked.

  “Yes,” SJ replied. “I also said this probably means you will be able to heal her mortal wound so she can leave Neverland as well.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” I said.

  The sky was beginning to change. It was a humbling reminder of how far we’d come with such limited time. I looked at my watch—5:35 p.m. The attack on the citadel had already begun and our friends were surely in the thick of a fight somewhere. I tried to remain patient and calm despite my powerful yearnings to be fighting alongside them.

  The carriages were ascending the final steep slope to the top of the mountains so I stuck my head out the window to catch a glimpse of the citadel.

  Any moment now . . .

  We reached the peak. The crest of our mountain allowed a brilliant view of the great valley below. In the distance to the left was a forest. My friends and I had come through it on our way to the citadel several days ago. On the right, and much closer to the citadel, was another darker forest. That was the Forest of Mists we’d escaped to after fleeing Rampart’s party. Meanwhile, at the valley’s center rose the notable mountain I’d been looking for. Built into that natural stronghold—structures moving with the rises and falls of the rock—and surrounded by a tall outer wall was our objective: the Camelot citadel.

  Our carriage suddenly veered to the side, keeping me from studying the landscape any further. The ground levelled off here and a traffic guard knight was directing all ascending vehicles into some sort of parking corral. I threw open my door and hopped out. My friends followed.

  “What’s going on?” I asked the knight closest to me. Behind him was the citadel, but he moved in front of me to block the view. The knight wore sleek black armor—which was fairly cool—and a fluorescent yellow sash with the words “Perimeter Enforcement” across his chest—which was very uncool.

  “I am sorry, miss,” the knight said. “We are not allowing anyone into the valley for the time being. The citadel’s main gate is under attack. We’ve shut down the descending mountain pass by order of King Rampart. Under penalty of death, no one else is allowed near the citadel until the assault has been quashed.”

  Peering around his shoulder and narrowing my gaze, now that I had more than a second to look, I could see small bursts of fire like explosions being unleashed across the outer wall of the citadel.

  I moved through the cluster of people and vehicles until I stood on the edge of the plateau where the road dipped to take us down the mountains to the valley. A sturdy three-foot-high barricade prevented carriages from going farther. I put my hands on it. Leaning out, I saw that the steep road zigzagged through the mountain pass. On this side the route was way steeper than the ascent had been.

  Additionally, at the base of the mountain where the road reached the valley stood a security checkpoint. It was a sizeable fort made entirely of stone. Just before it was a much larger barricade. More small barriers had likely been set up along the path to the fort. But beyond that stronghold it was a clear shot across the valley to the citadel.

  A metal hand grabbed my shoulder and I spun, going for my wand out of instinct, but then quickly withdrew. It was just a perimeter enforcement knight.

  “Ma’am, please step away from the barricade.” I took a deep breath and nodded. Now was not the time to start a fight.

  By now, many passengers had stepped out of their vehicles and were gasping in horror at the distant explosions. That’s when I spotted Ormé and Arthur casually approaching the front of their carriages. Each of them was accompanied by a Gwenivere Brigade girl with a bow in hand.

  The rest of the Gwenivere Brigade and Peter had not gotten out of their transports. I saw Andrea’s face through one of the windows. She looked still, but her eyes were vigilant of everything around her. Ormé caught my attention and tilted her chin toward her carriage driver. Then she pointed at me and thrust a thumb in the direction of mine.

  Oh. Got it.

  I gestured for my friends to follow me back to our vehicle. “You remember how we fled the citadel last time?” I whispered to SJ. I flicked my eyes to our driver. “Join me up front, will you?”

  “What about me?” Blue whispered.

  “There’s only room for two on the front seat,” I replied. “We need SJ up there to clear a path with her potions. I’ll drive. Trust me, I’m good at it. You keep a lookout through the side windows. There are probably guards stationed throughout the pass. If any threats come at us from behind, you can use your throwing knives to take them out.”

  “Fine,” Blue said. “But at least let me clear your seat.”

  Blue sauntered up to our carriage driver. The man was in his early twenties and solidly built. I wondered if he did a lot of recreational weight lifting. He wore a heavy black overcoat with golden shoulder pads the color of our three horses’s saddles. Each long-legged steed was chocolate brown with a lustrous black mane and tail.

  The driver fiddled with his coachwhip as he sat on his velvet perch. Most carriages in Book only used reins to drive horses, not coachwhips, but I was familiar with how they worked. Carriage drivers cracked coachwhips close to the ear of their lead horses to increase speed. No big adjustment. I had a good amount of experience driving a carriage from some of my more . . . mischievous ventures growing up, so I felt confident I could do this.

  Blue moved next to the driver, smiled roguishly, and batted her eyelashes. “Hey,” she said. “Want to know a secret?” She beckoned for him to lean down. He smiled and obliged.

  “Closer,” she said.

  He leaned out even further. Blue wrapped her fingers around his shirt collar delic
ately then pulled him nearer and whispered something in his ear. We didn’t hear what she said, but his smile abruptly faded and his eyes widened. Blue yanked him from his perch with a mighty thrust and he fell to the dirt. She picked up the coachwhip he’d dropped and tossed it to me. “Here!” she said.

  At that very moment, Arthur and Ormé knocked out their drivers. The perimeter enforcement knights noticed the ruckus. “Hey!” one of them yelled. “What are you doing?”

  But it was too late. Blue hopped in our carriage. SJ fired a red portable potion that blasted the first barricade to smithereens and knocked the closest guards out of the way. Then we leapt on the front seat and I cracked the coachwhip loudly. The lead horse responded with a whinny and took off.

  “Stop them!” another guard yelled. “No one is allowed past this point!”

  Our carriage sped down the uneven ground of the mountain pass. I held onto the reins and the coachwhip. SJ gripped the driver’s perch. I glanced back swiftly and saw that Arthur and Ormé were tailing us in their own vehicles. Behind them, several perimeter enforcement knights were in pursuit on horseback.

  We picked up speed. The road was narrow and the turns were sharp. If we got to the bottom in one piece, I figured the Driver’s Ed course I’d been planning to take at school would be an easy A.

  Halfway down the mountain, we went through a tunnel. On the other side, about a quarter mile ahead, a barricade blocked the lower level of the pass. Just beyond that barricade, a concrete bridge spanned a wide gap in the road.

  Suddenly arrows whizzed by. We were getting shot at. I dared to glance up. Guards stationed at higher vantage points throughout the mountain had begun firing arrows. I curtly leaned sideways, barely avoiding being skewered. An arrow plunged into the front seat directly between SJ and me.

  Return arrows were sent out from behind us, courtesy of the Gwenivere Brigade. I cracked the coachwhip and our horses ran faster. We were close enough that SJ could blast the barricade from our higher switchback and the smoke would clear by the time we reached the bridge.