Crisanta Knight: The Lost King

by Culbertson, Geanna;

  The energy plowed into my body—but without hurting me. Rather, it felt strange, like my internal organs were hit with a gust of wind. The moment after the energy sunk into me, something changed. I hadn’t noticed that I felt a tad hollow until that missing piece of my soul was reunited with my form. Now I felt so much stronger. Everything flashed with white light before the earthquake subsided and the room returned to normal.

  Blue, Jason, and I exchanged a look of surprise. Then we turned to Peter. The kid shook off some dust that had fallen from the ceiling and gotten in his hair.

  “What the heck was that?” he asked.

  “Peter,” I stammered. “You’re—”

  “Crisanta Knight.” Arthur’s voice echoed across the chamber.

  My friends and I turned as Arthur strode toward us. “Is everyone all right?” he asked. “I was worried when the earthquake hit. It came out of nowhere.”

  “Yeah. Fine, man,” Peter said.

  Hold on. Hold on.

  “Arthur,” I said earnestly. “That earthquake didn’t come out of nowhere. I fulfilled the pledge I made to the Boar’s Mouth. It happened when Peter sat on the throne. Arthur, I think that Peter is—”

  “In my seat,” Arthur interrupted hastily. He gave me a stern look but rapidly adjusted the expression to a smirk when he turned toward Peter. “Though since he was just knighted, I suppose I can let it slide, just this once.”

  “Sorry, AP,” Peter said. “Pretend I was never here.” He grinned and flew off to check on the Lost Boys and Girls.

  “Arthur,” I said.

  “Not here,” he responded. “The three of you need to come with me. Now.”

  “Peter Pan is your son,” I stated matter-of-factly once Arthur, Blue, Jason, and I were alone in the Knights’ Room and the door was closed.

  “Yes,” Arthur admitted.

  “How long have you known?” Jason asked.

  “About five years,” he said. “The kid almost always wears sleeves to prevent his arms from getting cut when he flies through the jungle. At least that’s what he says. But I think he also does it to hide his birthmark.”

  “The Pendragon Mark,” I clarified. “You and Rampart were supposed to be the only blood-born Pendragons left, but I saw the birthmark on Peter’s arm just now.”

  “Yes, the Pendragon Mark,” Arthur said. “I didn’t see it on him until about a year and a half after I joined the Lost Boys and Girls.”

  “So does he know that you and him are . . . you know?” Blue asked.

  “No,” Arthur replied.

  “But the mark?” I said.

  “He’s never seen mine,” Arthur explained. “And he doesn’t really understand what it means.”

  Arthur took a seat at the head of the Round Table. He gestured for us to join him, so we did—me on his left. It was interesting. This was the first time we were sitting with the king at the Round Table as official knights. I hadn’t been sure what we’d be discussing when this moment eventually came, but I certainly didn’t think it would be how Peter Pan was the long-lost son of King Arthur.

  “When I discovered Peter’s mark, I asked him about it,” Arthur said. “We hadn’t known each other long, and he waved off the question and said it was only a birthmark. I could tell he wasn’t sharing all that he knew, but he had no idea who I was, so for the time being I didn’t say anything more. I simply committed to staying with the Lost Boys and Girls for as long as possible. He was my son. There was no denying that once I saw the mark, and I saw him. I had no idea how he was alive or how he’d come to Neverland, but I was never letting him go again.”

  The king passed a hand over his eyes. “It was simultaneously one of the happiest and saddest moments of my life. I could not have been more grateful to be reunited with him. But it seemed like a cruel joke that he didn’t know I was his father and that I could never return to Camelot to share the news with Gwenivere.”

  Arthur’s brow creased. The rest of his face remained hard but his eyes shone as his mind whirred. It was a familiar expression. My father was a king. I’d seen him look like this in moments of great stress. I felt the odd impulse to put my hand on Arthur’s arm and let him know everything was going to be okay. But I’d never done that with my own father and I was not about to do it now. Men like this—kings who made tough decisions everyday—didn’t need you to tell them it was all going to be okay. For one, no one ever knew that it would be. And two, it was an important part of their role to channel that belief on their own. Merlin had given me similar advice a couple of days ago. I understood it a lot better now, but reckoned I still had a lot to learn.

  “Since I wasn’t able to connect with him as a father,” Arthur went on, “I tried to be there for him as a friend, and later as a mentor. I taught him to swordfight, to hunt, to study his enemies and best defeat them. I worked with the other children too and helped protect the camp. When I’d been there for four years, Peter finally opened up. He shared with me how he’d really ended up in Neverland.

  “He said he’d been raised in Camelot by magic hunters who’d told him that he was meant to rule. They said any person with his birthmark had a claim to the throne and prophecy foretold he was meant to kill the current king and take it. The hunters kept him isolated for much of his life; he was never allowed to leave their village. They schooled him and also trained him in their own way. They intended for him to kill the king—to kill me—when he turned thirteen.”

  “That’s messed up,” Jason said, indignantly. “Not only were they prepping him for patricide, they kept him sequestered from the greater world so he never got a chance to learn the truth for himself.”

  Arthur nodded. “Even now that we are in Camelot, surrounded by so many flags with the same symbol he bears on his arm, he has no idea the mark is a familial symbol. He just assumes that it is the mark of any ruler with a claim to the Camelot throne.”

  “So I guess the people who stole your son when he was a baby didn’t drown like the story goes,” I said. “Somehow, they escaped and raised Peter as their own, thinking he was the Pendragon that Merlin prophesized would kill you. They had no idea that Mordred was actually the Pendragon of the prophecy. Just like Peter has no idea that the mark means you’re blood relatives.”

  “Correct,” Arthur responded solemnly. “It was a very sad, twisted turn of events with an unpredictable ending. You recall Peter once told you why kids go to Neverland? It’s either because they have no place to call home or because they want to escape what adulthood has in store for them. Peter went for the latter. When he reached his twelfth year, he decided to escape his village. He’d been planning to for some time, but he needed the right way out. And when he learned about the wormholes, it was only a matter of stealing a Hole Tracker from the magic hunters who raised him and finding his way to Neverland. He stopped aging to escape what he thought was his fate to kill me at thirteen, and . . . you know the rest.”

  We let the truth sink in for a few moments.

  “Does anyone else know about Peter?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What about Merlin?” Blue said.

  “No one ever knows everything Merlin knows,” Arthur replied.

  “I know that’s right,” I huffed.

  “So now what?” Jason asked. “You know he’s your son. You’re the rightful king that Merlin’s prophecy indicated would return, but Peter is the lost king that the Boar’s Mouth wanted us to return. Now he’s here. You and Gwenivere are here. You’re going to tell him, aren’t you?”

  Arthur paused for a second.

  “You don’t know how, do you?” I said.

  Arthur sighed. “After seven years, how am I supposed to tell the kid that he’s actually my son? He sees me as a friend and a teacher. His world would be shattered if he knew everything he’s believed his entire life has been a lie.”

  “Arthur,” I spoke gently. “A parent should be a friend and a teacher. Peter looks up to you. Anyone can see that. And
you giving him this missing piece of his past isn’t going to break him—it will make him whole.”

  “She’s right,” Jason said. “I never knew my father, and it’s always felt like there was a piece missing. Trust me, it doesn’t matter what life Peter has managed to forge on his own. To understand one’s past and parents never stops being important.”

  I studied Jason out of the corner of my eye. He never talked about his birth father. I’d met his mother, stepfather, and siblings, but aside from being aware that he didn’t have one, I didn’t know anything about his dad. I wondered if Blue knew. She didn’t look surprised, just supportive.

  “Peter is planning on going back to Neverland as soon as possible,” Arthur said. “He told me so. That’s his world. Being here puts him on edge.”

  “A person can belong to more than one world, Arthur,” I replied. “Book is home for us, but our fates are tied to a handful of realms. Peter would gladly call Camelot his home if he knew the truth, and that doesn’t mean he’d have to give up his ties to Neverland.”

  “And the only reason he’s probably on edge is because he still doesn’t know the truth,” Blue interjected passionately. “He likely sees that birthmark on his arm as some sort of threat to you and wants to put distance between you guys as a result. You know, get out of here before other people capture him and try to force him into what he thought was his destiny.”

  “I know, I know,” Arthur said, frustrated. After a moment he sat back with a sigh. “Of course I must tell him. You’re all sound in your judgment. But I must talk with Gwenivere first. Tonight. I’ll tell her tonight that Gregory is alive. We can decide how to approach him tomorrow.”

  “Gregory? I repeated.

  “That’s Peter’s given name,” Arthur replied. Then he frowned. “Though I don’t think I’ll open with that.”

  Hm. In all the dangers I’d faced with Arthur, I’d never seen him look so nervous or indecisive.

  “It’ll be fine,” I said, resigning to giving him an awkward pat on the shoulder. “What’s the worst that could happen? I mean, you already died, right? So anything that happens now is easy.”

  Arthur raised an eyebrow.

  “Sorry,” I sighed. “Dwayne warned me about the bad jokes.”

  kind of wish we could stick around to find out how things with Arthur and Peter play out,” Blue whispered as we stood on the edge of Scott Lake.

  The wormhole to the Portalscape was going to open any minute and we were waiting on the marshland near the dock. It was late afternoon. Arthur, Ormé, Peter, Merlin, and ghostly Elaine the Younger had come to see us off. Most of our friends were chatting nearby, but Blue and I stood apart from the group, looking out at the water.

  “We have our Mark Twos,” I said. “We can always call Camelot to check in. Which I gather SJ will be doing a lot of if she is supposed to be collaborating with Merlin on that potion to bring out Mauvrey’s memories. Though she and Merlin haven’t shared the details of how that’s going to work yet.”

  “Not that we’d need the excuse of the potion to stay in touch,” Blue commented. “All six of us are Knights of the Round Table now. Our connection to this place won’t be gone because we’re in another realm. This place is a part of us now.”

  “What’s a part of you?” Elaine asked, suddenly breezing through my body.

  “C’mon, Elaine, don’t do that,” I said recovering from the spine-tingling, brain-freezing effect of her passing through me.

  “Sorry.” She shrugged and smiled. “It seemed like it’d be a funny conversation segue.”

  “Funny for you, un-fun for me.” I released one last tremble from the iciness. “Blue and I were talking about how Camelot is a part of us now. This place has changed us.”

  “For better or worse?” Elaine asked.

  “I’ve got deadly monster powers now,” Blue said. “You be the judge.”

  “Two minutes until the wormhole,” Ormé called, gesturing at her Hole Tracker. Blue and I started walking toward the group as Elaine floated between us. The light breeze this close to the lake was causing her form to distort a bit and it was a little hard to see her in the sunshine.

  “So you’re not planning on ‘moving on’ to where most of your ghost friends went?” I asked her.

  “I don’t think so,” Elaine replied. “At least not in the foreseeable future. I want to spend time with my family and support Uncle Arthur as he rebuilds the kingdom. A couple of my ghost friends from Bluebeard Tower are staying too. They have families in the citadel, and the idea of low-key haunting the castle together seems fun.”

  “That’s how I’d spend my afterlife,” Blue commented. She popped the hood on her cloak, but tendrils of her dark blonde hair bounced outside it in the wind. We had all changed back into our battle-worn clothes. Gwenivere had offered to have her attendants get us new ones, but we’d insisted we were fine. I crossed my arms over my worn, but still comfortable navy military jacket.

  “We’ll be seeing you then,” I said to Elaine.

  “If I want you to see me,” Elaine joked as light streamed through her face.

  The rest of our friends were finishing their goodbyes as we joined the group. I had taken care of most of my farewells back at the castle. Public displays of affection were not my scene. The only person I hadn’t said goodbye to yet was Merlin.

  “See you soon, Crisanta,” he said, offering me a handshake.

  I uncrossed my arms and shook his hand. “You probably already know exactly where and when.”

  Merlin smirked, but his face softened and so did his tone. “Whatever you may think of me, I hope you know I am on your side.”

  “For today,” I said. “But after our conversation last night, I think we both know that the future is changeable and you don’t necessarily believe it works out in my favor.”

  Merlin didn’t respond to my comment. He merely shook his head. “I’ll be in touch, Crisanta. There’s more to discuss . . .” His eyes drifted to Daniel. “But today is an interlude of peace that you’ve definitely earned. I advise you enjoy it.”

  I got the bad feeling he was holding back again.

  What is it now? Something to do with Daniel?

  I was curious, but chose to take Merlin’s advice and enjoy a break from the chaos. We had earned it and I didn’t know how long the peace would last.

  A silver wormhole tore open in the air five feet to my left. A White Rabbit popped out. We knew him—it was Harry’s dad. He was right on time. His red jacket looked freshly pressed and his pocket watch recently polished.

  “Children,” he said, peering at us through his monocle. “Please present your storyteller visas.”

  “Mr. White Rabbit, you already know we have all-access storyteller visas,” Jason said. “You saw them yesterday in the Portalscape when Harry vouched for us.”

  “Hrrmph.” The White Rabbit thumped his foot. “Inter-realm travel is no place for favoritism or casualness, dear boy. Friends with my son or not, I need you all to present your visas or you shall suffer the consequences.”

  Sheesh, and I thought my dad was intense.

  “Fine, fine,” I said.

  We all took turns presenting our ordinarily invisible hand-stamps to the White Rabbit, which he scanned with a small baton he drew from his jacket pocket. When it was Kai’s turn, I stepped forward.

  “She doesn’t have one,” I said. “But we’re going home soon. Can’t you make an exception this once?”

  The White Rabbit thumped his foot in irritation. “Fine. But only this once. And only because I’m in a good mood.”

  I wonder what a bad mood looks like.

  The White Rabbit hopped to the side of the portal and gestured for us to proceed.

  “Goodbye, everyone!” Blue shouted to the Camelot gang as she jumped through. My friends followed one at a time, waving at our allies before taking the leap.

  Daniel and I were last in line. I flicked my eyes between him and Merlin. Bad feelings tingled, but I f
orced them away. “After you,” I said to Daniel.

  He nodded and leapt through the portal. I took a final glimpse at my friends assembled on Scott Lake. “We’re only a call away if you need anything,” I said to Arthur. “Happy ruling.” Then my focus shifted to Peter. “Take care, kid. Don’t stay out of trouble. And don’t be afraid to lean on the people around you. Take it from me. I’m nothing without my family.”

  “Wise words, Page Turner,” Peter said. “My parting advice for you is thus: two wrongs don’t make a right, but two fish will make a good sandwich.”

  I blinked and nodded. “Your goodbye was better.”

  I gave a final wave to the group before jumping through the portal. One long tumble later and I bounced off the bed at the bottom of the Portalscape, no White Rabbits or Shadows in sight. SJ swung open the door to Oz and my friends and I stepped through.

  Wow. Another optimal landing point.

  Not far ahead, the Emerald City’s green glass towers jutted into the sky. We could see some big shapes floating above the tallest buildings. Were those blimps?

  “And the good luck continues,” Daniel said.

  We followed the Yellow Brick Road, keeping a lookout for anything seedy. After all, we didn’t know what had happened to Eva.

  As we got closer to the city, we discovered that the flying objects above were, in fact, supersized blimps and balloons. Many were even dropping confetti.

  “Are they celebrating?” Blue commented.

  “It would appear so,” SJ responded. “Anyone else up for another party?”

  “You’re the only one who’s dressed for it,” Kai replied.

  She was correct. SJ was the only one who hadn’t changed out of her re-coronation outfit. That was because hers was the only outfit that could double as a normal daytime look. While Blue and Kai had been given full gowns, SJ’s wardrobe master in Camelot had decided to go another way. Our friend wore a mint green jumper with a lace pattern over the bodice and wide silk pants that were loose and flowing like bellbottoms. The only modifications she’d made to the outfit were swapping the heels for her previous shoes and attaching her old belt to her hip so her potions sack and slingshot would have a place to hang.