Crisanta Knight: The Lost King
Page 36
Galeschin was a tad on the short side and had strawberry blonde hair like his mother. I pegged him for close to Alex’s age. When he arrived at the stage, he knelt before it and Arthur stood and stepped forward. An attendant carrying a pillow with a wreath upon it appeared by my side. The wreath was made of slender green leaves, ivy, and white thistle.
Arthur drew Excalibur from his sheath. Its glow had never been more inspiring. The king brought the side of the blade to rest upon Galeschin’s right shoulder and recited The Pentecostal Oath, which he’d given to me in Neverland.
“Candidate for knighthood, I now put before you the sacred bond of our congregation, The Pentecostal Oath. As a Knight of the Round Table, you, Galeschin of Garlot, hereby swear to defend the realm of Camelot—her lands, people, and sovereign—from all those who pose a threat. You promise to give mercy to those who ask for it, resist cruelty, malice, and self-interest, and agree to offer succor to any and all innocent souls who require it. These are the duties you are charged with. And to the best of your ability, you shall be sworn to their standard forevermore, upon pain of forfeiture.
“In accepting the responsibility and title ‘Knight of the Round Table,’ you eternally bind yourself to uphold the name and legacy it carries. You pledge yourself to the service of others, no matter the personal cost. You commit yourself to protect Camelot and her interests with all of your mortal ability. And you swear to be honor-bound from now until the end of days. Knowing this, Galeschin of Garlot, do you accept The Oath?”
Galeschin raised his bowed head and looked Arthur straight in the eyes. “I do.”
Arthur nodded and moved Excalibur to Galeschin’s left shoulder and back again. “Then, Prince Galeschin of Garlot,” he said, “I officially dub thee a Knight of the Round Table.”
No one moved.
Arthur glanced at me.
Oh snap, that’s me!
I snatched the wreath off the pillow a little too hastily and placed it on Galeschin’s head. He smiled widely and rose to the sound of applause, turning to face the audience. I stepped back. Galeschin bowed deeply then moved to the side of the stage. The squire with the scroll then read out another name. This one was Morgan’s son Ywain.
The process repeated from there. A dozen other men and women who I didn’t know were called up, likely different important allies from across the land who’d helped Gwenivere with the revolution. After each one bowed, he or she stepped to the side and joined Galeschin. They started to form multiple rows after a while. At the fourteenth name, things got interesting.
“Jason Sharp,” the squire announced.
My eyebrows shot up as my friend stepped onto the walkway. He came forward—noble, tall, and strong. I caught Merlin’s eye. The wizard gave me a wide smile.
Are all of my friends being knighted?
Indeed, after Jason was knighted, SJ, Daniel, Kai, and even Peter were called forward. It gave me an enormous sense of privilege to place the wreaths upon their heads; I had seen firsthand how they’d earned them.
When Peter’s name was called, rather than float straight down from the rafters, he took a flying lap around the room that the projection orbs ate up. I saw Arthur smirk a bit. Once the kid’s ceremony was finished, he did a big backward flip in the air to land behind the third row of the newly knighted, where he continued to hover.
At that point, the squire who’d been reading the names broke his pattern by calling three at once. “Lady Morgan La Fay, Ormé La Roushe, and Blue Dieda.”
All three women emerged in the center of the room and approached. They knelt as a trio in front of the throne stage. Blue—who was wearing a crème-colored A-line gown with a skirt of chiffon decorated by a pattern of big blue roses—gave me a mischievous grin just before bowing her head.
“In addition to being inducted as the final new members of the Knights of the Round Table,” Arthur proclaimed, “these three women are being honored with the highest accolade in our land, the navy heart, which recognizes incomparable service to Camelot. My sister and Miss La Roushe were invaluable in leading the fight against Rampart and protecting my wife, your queen. Meanwhile, Lady Dieda was able to do what no knight in the history of our land—myself included—has ever been able to accomplish. She has slain the Questor Beast that has killed and terrorized so many for innumerable centuries. For that, all three must be rewarded.”
Merlin made one final attendant appear visible beside Arthur. This one was a little girl, maybe five years old, with dark hair like Gwenivere and bright eyes like a deer. She wore a puffy white dress with a belt of leafy vines around her waist and more leaves intertwined in her braid. She presented Arthur with a pillow that held three beautiful medals.
Arthur placed them around the necks of Morgan, Ormé, and Blue. When that was done, the little girl curtsied and vanished, courtesy of Merlin. Arthur went on to give all three women The Pentecostal Oath. When he was finished, my attendant presented me with the final wreaths and I crowned my friends. They stood and the crowd went wild.
Morgan, Ormé, and Blue joined the rest of the knighted. Arthur returned to his throne and Gwenivere’s side. The head priest appeared again and raised his voice for the closing remarks.
“For King Arthur and Queen Gwenivere Pendragon!”
“For King Arthur and Queen Gwenivere Pendragon!” the crowd echoed.
“For Camelot!”
“For Camelot!” the crowd repeated again.
“Hoo-rah!”
“Hoo-rah!”
The trumpets played and the crowd cheered like crazy. Arthur offered Gwenivere his hand and the two began to take their leave. As they stepped onto the indigo carpet, Merlin magically unveiled drapes attached to the ceiling. Peter and several Lost Boys and Girls zoomed up and pulled on golden cords attached to the drapes one after another, releasing a massive collection of blue rose petals over the room. The petals floated down in Arthur and Gwenivere’s wake like the world’s most radiant, graceful confetti.
I turned to my friends. Through the blue petals, our eyes found each other and we shared in the happiness of the moment. It was well earned, hard won, and a testament for the good we could accomplish when we never stopped working, fighting, and hoping together.
he people of Camelot knew how to party.
The festivities in the ballroom were in full swing with people eating, laughing, and dancing. Arthur, Gwenivere, Morgan, and Elaine sat in thrones on the elevated stage overseeing it all, as content as their guests.
I’d spoken to many people since the party began. It was really nice to talk with different members of the Gwenivere Brigade, ghosts, knights, and so forth without a battle in progress or looming in the near future. I had just finished conversing with Ormé, wishing her congratulations on her award. She gave me an amicable slap on the back then joined some friends who were calling her over to the buffet table. I was glad I was wearing armor. She was a strong, big woman—not at all light-handed.
I scanned the room and smiled. Today’s ball was truly bananas fantastic. Everyone was ecstatic to be in attendance, have Gwenivere and Arthur back, and just be alive.
I could understand that last part more than most. I had a complicated relationship with life. I’d learned to manipulate it, fear it, and appreciate it for all it was worth. And that went beyond my powers. After facing the constant threat of losing the people you cared for, life took on new meaning.
I’d been stubbornly naïve for a long time insisting that I could save everyone. Even when logic suggested otherwise, I’d put all my faith in this idea because I was an optimist at heart. However, I’d learned that faith and good effort could only get you so far. Sometimes the universe intervened cruelly and I would drive myself crazy if I didn’t learn to accept that some things (like the progression of certain people’s lives) were not within my control. I had finally accepted that after Paige’s death. Then when I’d surrendered the Four Waters to Glinda, I’d come to peace with the notion that I couldn’t always save myself e
ither.
But there was more to what I’d learned than that. There was so much more. In today’s aftermath, with a calm mind and heart, I celebrated a truth that surpassed all of these. A truth rooted in how I’d come to value life on a fundamental level.
You may not be able to save everyone, but that doesn’t mean you should stop trying.
Despite all the bad I’d seen in the world—and in people—I still wholeheartedly believed in good. I believed that coming to terms with failure and loss didn’t mean a person should stop trying for success at every turn. It made you want it more. The lives of friends, family, innocent people, and yourself were always worth fighting for. And the odds were inconsequential in that fight.
Odds were only challengers—daring you to be smarter, stronger, braver, and bold enough to beat them.
“Would you like to dance?”
I pivoted to see Morgan’s son standing next to me. Ywain was a good-looking guy in a quirky-cute kind of way. Maybe sixty percent quirky and forty percent cute?
“Thanks, man,” I said. “But honestly, I can’t. This armor looks awesome, but it was definitely not designed for twirling.”
I gestured at the dance circles right as Kai and Daniel whirled by. Kai’s olive gown with cutouts swirled around her as Daniel lifted her off the ground. Both were smiling grandly. I wished I could join in the fun, but what I said to Ywain was true.
“Next time, then,” Ywain said. “By the way, it’s nice to meet the famous Crisanta Knight. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“All good things I hope.”
“Of course.”
“Liar.” I smirked.
Ywain returned the grin then bowed gallantly. He joined Galeschin and some other knights at the buffet table. I considered following him to sample more of the tasty hors d’oeuvres, but a waving Blue beckoned me from the other side of the dance floor. I migrated through the merry crowds. She and Jason were standing by the ballroom’s open main doors.
“Don’t tell me we have another room to break into?” I joked when I reached them. “I am so over hidden temples and clandestine missions.”
“Nah, not today,” Blue said. “We just wanted to show you something epic. Come on.”
I followed Blue and Jason out of the ballroom. They’d removed their wreaths at some point, but Blue still proudly wore her medal. “Congrats on that,” I said, gesturing to it. “Congrats to both of you. I had no idea you guys were being knighted.”
“We only found out this morning,” Jason replied. “A woman named Dwayne gave us some instructions, attendants brought us clothes, and here we are.”
“Yup, here we are,” Blue said. “Three Knights of the Round Table—a chick developing magic monster abilities, a hot guy with an axe, and a princess with the power of life.”
“Hot guy with an axe?” Jason raised an eyebrow.
Blue blushed slightly, realizing what she’d said. Her eyes flashed Questor Beast green.
“Power settling in all right?” I asked, trying to help her save face.
“Uh, yeah,” she said. “Somewhere between Neverland and Oz the pain and wooziness stopped. Now that we have some time to breathe, I’d really like to figure these powers out. I don’t want to accidentally sneeze acid on a classmate when we’re back at school.”
“I’ll help you,” I offered. “Powers just take practice. I learned; so can you.”
“I was hoping you’d offer,” Blue replied. “I could use a magical mentor. Kai probably could too.”
Oh, right. Kai has magical levitation powers now. As if I don’t have enough to worry about with her.
“What’s with that look?” Jason pointed to my face.
“What?”
“You seem conflicted.”
Was I conflicted about Kai? I’d lived up to my promise to help Daniel protect her. I’d saved her, though it had come at a great cost. But to be honest, I wasn’t sure if she was safe. The antagonists knew about her now. While my friends and I would soon head home to the safety of our schools, she lived in Century City. How could we protect her there? How could Daniel and I make sure the antagonists wouldn’t make a run at her again?
“I guess I’m concerned about her,” I replied. “How can we look out for her when she lives in a different city?”
“Maybe a change of living arrangements is in order . . .” Blue commented.
We turned a corner and arrived back in the throne room. My face lit up. The floor of the room was an impressive sea of blue rose petals and the airspace was full of flying kids. Now that the crowds had gone, the Lost Boys and Girls had taken over. They’d clearly raided the buffet by the looks of their towering plates of turkey legs, fruit skewers, and cookies. And since dancing was not their scene, they’d come back here to fly around and frolic. They zoomed about with such speed that the blue rose petals on the floor whooshed in wonderful waves and tornadoes. It looked super cool.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, glancing around. Then I pivoted back to my friends and recognized something in their expressions. “You guys didn’t bring me here to show me the petals, did you?”
“Not entirely,” Blue admitted. “We thought we should talk.”
“About what?”
“About that.” Jason pointed to the throne on the other side of the room. “You brought Arthur back and he sat on the throne, but nothing happened. That piece of you that was taken didn’t get returned, right?”
“Wait, what are you talking about?” I asked.
“The Boar’s Mouth, Crisa,” Blue said.
My eyes widened.
The Boar’s Mouth. I’d completely forgotten about the Boar’s Mouth. So much had happened in the last few days that other concerns had taken up the valuable real estate in my memory.
“The Boar’s Mouth statue instructed you to retrieve Excalibur and bring back Camelot’s lost king,” Blue reminded me. “Only when he sits on the throne will your mission be complete and this fragment of your soul be returned.”
“Fail, and your physical body will wither within the year and the rest of your soul will be trapped here forever,” Jason finished quoting.
My friends were right. Something was wrong. In exchange for its blessing to be able to claim Excalibur, the Boar’s Mouth had taken a fragment of my soul. I’d retrieved Excalibur and brought back Arthur like the magic statue had instructed. So why hadn’t that piece of my sould been returned?
“I don’t understand,” I thought aloud. “If I completed the Lost King Prophecy, I should have completed this.” My eyes narrowed on Arthur’s throne as I recited the last stanza of Merlin’s prophecy.
“The Lake shall be crossed
And the Sword will be found
To the rightful king returned
When Great Lights strike the ground.”
“I did that, right? So what am I missing?”
“Unless the rightful king is not necessarily the lost king the Boar’s Mouth was talking about,” Jason replied. “Think about it.” He recited the first stanza from the prophecy.
“A game of four kings
Three of them lost
A struggle for the realm
Where one king pays the cost.”
“That prophecy is referring to four kings,” Jason said. “Three of them lost and one who paid the cost. The one who paid the cost is obviously Rampart. So what other kings do we have on the table?”
“Well, definitely Arthur,” Blue said. “He was lost to Neverland for seven years.”
I frowned, my brow furrowing. “I think one of them might be Alex. He was a big part of this adventure and the Excalibur storyline. As next in line for my family’s throne, he would’ve been Midveil’s future king if he hadn’t gone down the antagonist path. He became lost to my family in a metaphorical way.”
Jason nodded. “That makes sense. But he couldn’t be the lost king that the Boar’s Mouth was talking about. The statue was clear; it wanted Camelot’s lost king.”
“So if that bit o
f your soul hasn’t been returned, that means the Boar’s Mouth wants the third lost king in this story to sit on that throne,” Blue commented. “Who’s that?”
“Hey, guys! Why so glum?” Peter asked, flying over to us and kicking up a rush of blue petals in his wake. The kid still wore his wreath but had lost his jacket. He tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his stiff, long-sleeved shirt.
“Nothing,” I said. “We’re just talking.”
“Forget talking and have some fun,” he said. “I had some friends bring a fresh dose of fairy dust. We’ve got food. Why don’t we—”
Peter paused as a couple of Lost Girls looking for a place to eat landed on the armrests of Arthur’s throne.
“Hey! Allison, Joanie, come on. Have a little respect,” Peter called. He flew to the other side of the room. We followed.
“Thrones may be awesome, but they’re for ruling, not eating,” Peter lectured.
“Sorry, Peter,” the girls said in unison. They flew away and he shook his head.
“That was grown up of you,” I commented.
“Just because we literally live in a jungle and don’t age doesn’t mean we should forget all our manners,” Peter responded. He tugged at his shirt again and began to roll up the sleeves. “Besides, a throne as legit as this deserves some admiration.” He finished with his sleeves and plopped down on the throne, gesturing to his general person. “See, simply sitting here makes me more intimidating, don’t you think?”
“Definitely.” Jason grinned.
“I’m literally in awe of your legitness,” Blue joked.
“Peter . . . what’s that on your arm?” I asked.
The boy had rolled up his sleeves enough to reveal a faint line on the underside of his left forearm. But it wasn’t just a line; there was another line going over it like a “t” or . . . a cross. Peter noticed me staring and self-consciously rolled down the sleeve.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “A stupid birthmark.”
I got a swirling feeling in the pit of my stomach. Then, all of a sudden, the throne room quivered with the force of a small earthquake. A deep, bellowing rumble came from deep below and a comet of ghostly light shot out of the floor. The kids shouted and took cover as the ceiling shook. I remained perfectly still as the white, hazy energy whizzed around the hall and eventually bee-lined toward me.