Crisanta Knight: The Lost King

by Culbertson, Geanna;

  With the reinforcements and Merlin’s powers, it only took a few minutes to destroy all our foes in the ballroom. We stood victorious over the diverse carnage.

  Hot dang.

  Merlin made the Lost Boys and Girls visible again. There were sixteen of them floating around the room, each holding a violent weapon most adults would never let children anywhere near. Our surviving forces gathered on the center dance floor below the thorned iron chandelier. Less than twenty of us were left. It wasn’t a bad turnout, but as we paused to catch our breaths, I took in the scale of the damage. I’d been high on the victory, but now I noticed the navy knights and members of the Gwenivere Brigade that lay motionless across the ballroom. The ones who were dead. I regretted our losses deeply and felt the urge to do something about it.

  My magic has been resting for a bit. I bet I can harness it to resurrect some of our fallen allies.

  After someone died, they only had a three-minute window to be saved by any kind of magic before their souls were lost. Looking around, I was certain there were people in here I could save.

  Battles may feel like they last a long time, but in terms of minutes and seconds, who was to say with a big enough power surge, I couldn’t still save all our friends in this room.

  I dashed over the cherry wood floor to the nearest body. Just as I reached it, however, the same boy who’d helped Blue grabbed me by one arm while a second Lost Boy with dark hair swooped around and snatched up my other arm. Together they lifted me off the ground.

  “Hey! Let go!”

  “I’m sorry, Crisanta,” Merlin said calmly, his dragging robes creating a bloody smear behind him as he walked across the ballroom. “I cannot allow you to waste your magic on this. You’ll be needing it soon and saving these people will only weaken you.”

  “Merlin, you have no right to—”

  “Boys,” Merlin said. “As we agreed.”

  The two Lost Boys holding me zipped out the shattered wall of windows before I could argue any more. “Put me down!” I said as we flew over the rose garden and shot into the sky.

  “Sorry, old guy’s orders,” the black-haired one said.

  The boys flew me up to an open balcony six floors above the ballroom and dropped me inside the connecting bedroom. They zoomed away before I could protest further. Fuming, I rushed to the balcony to see Blue being lifted by another pair of Lost Boys. They deposited her hurriedly on the balcony beside me then darted away equally quickly.

  “Merlin said you’d need my help,” Blue grunted, dusting off her cloak. “But he wanted to keep SJ. The two of them are going to lead the Lost Boys and Girls through the castle and finish what’s left of Rampart’s army downstairs.”

  I heard her say the words, but I was so angry I barely processed them. My fingers clutched the stone railing and I looked at the garden below.

  I suppose I could enchant something and use it as a platform to get back down there, but I might not make it before those people’s life windows close.

  “Merlin told me to tell you not to bother finding a way back down to the ballroom,” Blue said, foiling my plans. “Several of the kids are guarding the room just in case. That dude is adamant about you saving your magic right now.”

  I scowled. How could Merlin do this? He couldn’t manipulate me like that, nor could he decide who was and wasn’t worth saving. Who cared if rescuing a few knights or Gwenivere Brigade girls made me weaker? What was the point of being strong if I was going to be selfish about it?

  “Blue? Crisa?”

  We spun and saw Ormé, Andrea, and two other Gwenivere Brigade girls entering the bedroom. We moved inside to meet them. The room featured a graceful chiffon canopy bed, a bronze chandelier, and a fireplace carved in the shape of a monster’s mouth.

  “Thank goodness you’re here,” Ormé said. “We’ve been searching the castle for Rampart and Morgause, but they’ve eluded us. If we don’t find them soon, they’ll likely escape.”

  I sucked in my frustration with Merlin. I’d confront him about this later.

  “We’ll help you search,” I said. “Come on, Blue.”

  We started to canter out of the room, but then the roaring fireplace gave me an idea. “Hold on a sec,” I said.

  The girls skidded to a stop. I removed the silvery hexagon-patterned belt from around my waist and held it in front of the fire with my eyes closed for a moment, concentrating.

  “What are you doing?” Andrea asked.

  “This belt was enchanted by a bunch of ghosts I saved the other day,” I said, reattaching it to my waist. “It works as a talisman and has the ability to summon the ghosts one time if I hold it in front of an open flame. There are still a lot of enemies out there. I figure this may be the right time to use it so hopefully we can wrap things up swiftly.”

  “So where are the ghosts?” Ormé asked.

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “But I’m sure they’ll be here soon. Let’s go.”

  The six of us entered a long hallway. The carpet was navy with embroidered flowers. The wall on the right had massive oak doors every fifteen yards. The left side of the hall was rimmed by a balcony with three different stone staircases extending from it. We rushed toward the balcony and looked out at the world’s most bananas stairway intersection.

  Whoa.

  There were five floors below us. The staircases on our level led to the seventh (and second-to-last) floor, the third floor, and ground level. Every floor was rimmed by a balcony and had three staircases sticking out from some part of it like ours did. Adding all eight levels of the compound together that meant two-dozen staircases—none with handrails—going to different parts of the building. It was arguably the most confusing, stupid floor plan I’d ever seen. And to make matters more challenging, fights had broken out on every level of the compound and half the staircases. The colors of the outside world poured through a huge glass ceiling that resided over the entire stairwell intersection, shining light on the battle.

  “This layout is ridiculous!” Blue commented, reading my mind. “If we really are protagonists, and this was some grand story, I would slap the author.”

  “I know, I know,” Ormé said. “Blame the wormholes. A while back, this man named M.C. Escher accidentally fell through. He became friends with Rampart and redesigned this part of the castle.”

  “Oh yeah, that was in a brochure we read when we first came to the citadel,” I said.

  “Look!” Andrea interrupted, pointing to the third floor. “There’s Arthur and Gwenivere!”

  The king and queen were battling a horde of enemy knights. They were doing well, but two against like fifteen hardly seemed fair.

  “Let’s start by helping them,” Ormé said. “Then we find Rampart and Morgause.” She ran down the staircase that led to the third floor, the rest of us followed.

  I picked up the rear, careful to watch my step. Alas, my caution didn’t help. Halfway down the staircase, silver light encased my body and I was launched across the stairway intersection. I sailed over the railing of the fourth floor. Thankfully the carpet on this level was plush and thick. I had the wind knocked out of me, but I rolled to a comfy stop.

  I scrambled to where the nearest staircase branched out. It looked like the same silvery assault had affected the rest of my group. Ormé and Andrea wound up on the third floor we’d been aiming for—only toppling forward since they’d been so close to it at the time. The other Gwenivere Brigade girls and Blue had fallen short of the third floor railing but they’d grasped onto an area of floor outcropping underneath it and were now pulling themselves up with an assist from Ormé and Andrea. They would be fine, but other members of our army were still being blasted around by silver light. I glanced up and found the source of the assault. It was Morgause again.

  That woman’s the worst.

  Morgause was positioned on a staircase near the eighth floor. Her body glowed with silvery light that made her white-ish blonde hair look ghostly.

  Our eyes me
t, then a pulse of silver light rammed me back into the hallway and against the wall. My brain warbled from the impact. When I recovered, I noticed the weapons belonging to the decorative suits of armor along this hall were . . . shaking. And glowing silver.

  Crud.

  The glistening weapons ripped free of the armor and shot toward me. I was about to be skewered by swords, spears, and more when the glow around them abruptly ceased and they clattered to the floor.

  What just happened?

  I dashed to the railing. Morgause was floating back to her previous position. Something had knocked her off her staircase at precisely the right moment, thus breaking her control over the weapons and saving my life. A big gust of wind rushed past me and shot toward the wicked woman, preventing her from landing.

  Morgan.

  She was standing on a staircase protruding from the second floor. Having had time to rest, her own silvery aura radiated brightly as she volleyed wind at Morgause. Morgause evaded one wind punch after another by levitating out of the way or by levitating someone else into the line of fire. Meanwhile, her attempts at getting a magical grip on Morgan were counteracted by a wind orb that Morgan had enclosed herself within.

  The weapons on the floor behind me suddenly zipped forward, but not toward me. Encased in Morgause’s silver light, they went over the balcony targeting Morgan. The surge started to overwhelm Morgan, who could only block so many assaults at once, and eventually a spear got through her defensive wind orb and grazed her arm. Concentration broken, the wind orb faltered and Morgause took the opportunity to get a grip on her nemesis. Morgan started to levitate off the steps. Enemy knights positioned around the staircases drew their bows and took aim—some at Morgan, others at more vulnerable members of our spread-out team. Things looked bleak.

  That’s when the ghosts attacked.

  White clusters of spectral energy dove through the glass ceiling. There were over a dozen of them—all the spirits I’d saved from Bluebeard Tower—and they dive-bombed Morgause and the enemy knights.

  When ghosts passed through the bodies of the living, they unleashed a terrible, jarring sensation like a mega brain freeze. The ghosts now inflicted this attack on the enemy knights and I couldn’t have been more delighted.

  Movement on the third floor drew my attention. Taking this opportunity to act, Ormé and Andrea fired arrows at the glass ceiling. They were loaded with charges. When they hit the skylight, the explosions caused half of it to shatter. I should have jumped back immediately, but I stayed, watching Morgause instinctively release her magic hold on Morgan and duck, protecting her head as glass poured down.

  I leapt a few feet away from the railing as the glass rained down to my level. From my position I saw Gwenivere Brigade girls on another floor fire arrows toward where Morgause had been. I dashed forward anew and witnessed the shots—also laced with charges—blow the staircase the woman stood on. It crumbled without mercy and Morgause fell. There was not enough time to focus her powers. As Morgause dropped, Morgan’s silver aura ignited and she lifted her arms and made fluid continuous movements that created a wind orb, which enveloped her aunt. Morgan pulled the wicked woman closer. When Morgause’s orb was twelve feet away, the two womem exchanged a final glare, saying a thousand things without speaking a word. Then Morgan made a strong downward motion that slammed Morgause straight through the center of the stairway intersection with the force of a hundred winds.

  I briefly closed my eyes right before Morgause impacted the floor. When I reopened them I saw the villainess lying there, far below. Morgause had hit the bottom with so much power that the tiles around her had cracked.

  All fighting stopped for a moment. A small crowd of people gathered on ground level around Morgause, Kai and Daniel among them. Kai was the closest. By the look of it, she’d barely had time to dodge Morgause’s body when it had crashed to the floor like a comet. Sword in hand, she stood over the woman in surprise.

  I was surprised too. That got real.

  Suddenly a plume of silver energy emerged from Morgause. It floated above her for an instant like chimney smoke and then rapidly absorbed into Kai’s body. It was like what happened when the Questor Beast died and its essence transferred into Blue.

  My godmother Emma’s words from long ago came to me. “Magic cannot be created, nor can it be destroyed. It can only change form or change hands.”

  Magic hunters had tried to kill me numerous times because they wanted to absorb my power for themselves. When the Questor Beast perished, Blue took its abilities. And now that Morgause was dead, her magic had to go somewhere too, so it’d latched onto the closest living thing—Kai.

  Kai stood frozen as the glow faded into her, then she collapsed. The intense injection of magic was too much for her to handle. Daniel caught her before she hit the floor and pulled her out of my line of sight. At that, the battle resumed on all levels. Now that Morgan and Morgause’s magic duel was done, the other fights continued with even more urgency. Everyone knew a conclusion was coming.

  Elaine the Younger—one of my favorite ghosts and daughter of Morgan’s sister Elaine Senior—flew up next to me. I grinned ear to ear.

  “I so wish I could hug you right now,” I said. “Thanks for coming.”

  “I told you we would,” Elaine responded. “No matter where we were, we all felt the summons of your talisman. I was actually already in the area. Some of the ghosts had unfinished business after you freed us—visiting relatives and such. I went to visit my mom at Gwenivere’s castle and learned about the attack on the citadel. I have been going through the city helping the troops and escorting my mom so she can fix up the wounded with her healing magic.”

  “I stand by my original statement,” I replied. “I am totally air-hugging you right now.”

  “Air hugs later. First, more fighting.”

  “That’s a better idea.” I nodded.

  Elaine whooshed off to continue attacking enemy knights. I headed for the third floor—luckily my current level had a staircase directly there. When I made it, farther up the hall I spotted Arthur and Gwenivere engaged in combat with the last of the enemy knights on this level. Ormé and Blue were already rushing to lend their services to the combat. I followed and dove into the fight too. I was careful to only injure or knock out the foes I faced. Though it took a lot more work and precision, I was practiced at it, and Blue’s advice about not taking life—whether by magic or by blade—would not stop ringing in my ears.

  We finished off the threat just in time to see Andrea and a couple of Gwenivere Brigade girls stagger onto our level, assisting Morgan. The woman looked exhausted. Honestly, given the dampening powers of the Aurora on regular magic, I was impressed she had lasted long enough to give Morgause the final smackdown. But then, she had close to four decades of magical practice.

  The Gwenivere Brigade situated Morgan on a cushioned bench against the wall. She grunted in pain as she sat. We hurried to meet them. Arthur knelt next to his half-sister and looked at her with concern. “Are you all right?” Excalibur flashed brightly as the blood on it magically melted away.

  “I’m fine. It’s only Magic Exhaustion,” she said. A small, pained smile crossed her lips. “And by the way, I realize we haven’t had time for sentiment today, but can I just say it is really nice to see you.”

  “You too,” he replied warmly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  “I know we all have a lot to say to each other,” Gwenivere intervened. “But now is not the time. Our family’s reunion comes second to finding Rampart. He cannot be allowed to escape or this will never be completely over.”

  “You’re right, my love,” Arthur said. “Ormé, did you complete the sweep?”

  “Yes,” Ormé replied. “We’ve checked all the obvious places—the Knights’ Room, the temple with the Boars’ Mouth, the Throne Room, the king’s chambers.”

  “Then we split up and cover as much ground as possible,” Gwenivere said. She wiped her sword clean of blood on a nearby
tapestry.

  Blue staggered backward, as if she’d been punched in the stomach. I grabbed her by the elbow before she teetered over. “Blue, what’s wrong?”

  She looked at me and her eyes were glowing Questor Beast green. “I can sense him,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Rampart,” she said. “I . . . I can sense him. I don’t know how to completely explain it . . .” Her green eyes darted side to side. “But you know how the Questor Beast could lock onto the scent of fear and adrenaline in its prey? I think I’m doing that with him now. It’s like I can smell Rampart’s panic.”

  “Well, don’t just stand there,” said a voice from behind us. “Lead the way!”

  We spun around to see Peter floating over the balcony. He was completely covered in soot—from his long sleeves to his face—from having saved those people in the burning building, and his expression was brilliantly wild. He waved and nodded at Gwen.

  “You must be the wife.”

  Gwenivere raised her eyebrows.

  “Introductions later, kid,” Arthur said. “Morgan, are you coming?”

  “Go without me,” she said. “I’ll only slow you down. Hurry, before Blue loses the scent.”

  “You heard her,” Arthur said to Blue. “Which way?”

  She took a deep breath. “Up.” Then Blue spun on her heels and sped up the stairs.

  Two Gweneivere Brigade girls stayed with Morgan while the rest of us pursued Blue. We raced up to the fifth floor, then changed staircases and took another flight up to the sixth. Blue followed her nose like a bloodhound, abruptly pausing to reevaluate her course here and there, but staying utterly focused.

  We ran down the hall until Blue brusquely stopped at a set of grand double doors. “This one,” she said. Her eyes burned brightly as she grabbed the handles. They didn’t budge.