Crisanta Knight: The Lost King

by Culbertson, Geanna;

  He and I passed the ball back and forth, darting through the clouds. Two projection orbs followed us through the obscene altitude, with one Seven Suns player and two additional White Dwarves on our tail. Suddenly, Daniel dove with the ball. I followed. Gordon popped out of the clouds and startled the two boys we’d been monkeying with.

  The arena came into full view again—a donut of color with grass as green as an emerald in the center. Daniel and Dillain were zigzagging to throw off the last pair of White Dwarves protecting their goal post.

  Dillain had the ball, but one of the White Dwarves collided roughly with his Pegasus. He dropped his lacrosse sword and fell. The player who’d knocked into him quickly zoomed in. The ball hadn’t fallen out of Dillain’s basket so the rival player swiped the entire lacrosse sword from midair and zoomed for our goal post.

  Crud.

  Wait, forget that crud.

  Javier cut off the White Dwarves runner. The two battled in a spiraling mess of Pegasus wing light and metallic armor. I chased them. When I was fifty feet below, I saw on a holographic screen that Javier landed a great blow. The White Dwarves player did not fall, but Javier spotted me so he decided on a different tactic. In a moment of self-sacrifice, he leapt from his Pegasus and tackled our opponent off his. Both boys fell, but so did the lacrosse sword with the ball. I had no time to store my own weapon. I dropped it and reached out to catch the lacrosse sword that held the ball.

  Got it!

  Cheers flooded the background. My heart pounded so loudly that it drowned them out. Sadie and I whirled around and charged straight for the goal. Daniel ran protection and blocked the remaining rivals. I was clear. And three seconds later, my shot was clean. I thrust the ball into the goal post and scored the winning point for my team.

  WHOO!

  The crowds resounded ecstatically. Images of Sadie and I were on most of the holographic screens. Projection orbs stalked us at different angles, but I didn’t mind. I’d done what I’d come here to do, and it had been gloriously triumphant.

  The next few minutes went by in a happy blur. The refs officially declared the Seven Suns the winner of the match. Players dismounted and turned in their Pegasi. Announcements were made reminding us about tomorrow’s matches and tonight’s ball.

  My team huddled in a victory celebration, many of the boys congratulating me. Javier smacked me with such enthusiasm that he almost snapped my rotator cuff through the armor. Elevated with the sweet feeling of accomplishment, I floated back to my locker room to the song of the simmering crowd.

  I say my locker room because I basically had my own. There were two main locker rooms in the arena—one for each team. The captains also had a private locker room and office. When girls had been admitted onto Twenty-Three Skidd teams, the captains decided that whenever teams with girls were playing, the ladies could use the captains’ locker room as their own and the captains would join the rest of their teams.

  It was a super considerate arrangement. And it meant I had total privacy as I reveled in the game’s aftermath. Washed with the contentment of today’s win, I strode into the captains’ office then through the door to the lockers. Mine was in the middle of the bottom row and had “C. Knight” engraved on the front. Seeing that always made me smile.

  I paused there for a moment. Then, helmet tucked under one arm, I slid to the ground with my shoulders to my locker and I leaned my head back against it. All the highs of the day soaked in like glorious bath salts and I sat in that peace for a precious, private interval in time.

  It felt good to be fulfilled.

  aturday sped by after the Twenty-Three Skidd match. I talked with my friends, grabbed a quick lunch, then booked it to my room. I needed to finish grading those papers for Madame Alexanders before the ball.

  It was rough. I was so stoked on adrenaline that I found it difficult to focus. I tried. I gripped the red quill in my hand and attempted to force myself to stay at my desk until I was done. But I found myself periodically drifting off in daydreams. I got up and went out to stand on the balcony and clear my head.

  It was a gorgeous Saturday and there were lots of girls outside. Prior to the magic hunter attack, ball days would sometimes mean the In and Out Spell was fully taken down for the afternoon and Lord Channing’s students could mingle with Lady Agnue’s students as they pleased. After the attack those rules had changed. Now the boys would remain at Lord Channing’s until tonight’s ball.

  This morning, Lenore had personally lifted the In and Out Spell solely around the main gate so Lady Agnue’s students could go over and watch the big match, closing the spell after the last carriage had left. She’d repeated the process when our students returned later in the day.

  Although Lady Agnue and the staff confidently claimed the woods were free of magic hunters, the kidnapping attack had caused them to reevaluate their perception of safety. With the exception of the time-crack, they’d permanently decided to tightly regulate anyone going in or out of our spell by only opening it by the main gate at specific times.

  Blue told me that Lenore had actually stayed for the match so she’d be ready to lift the In an Out Spell right after. She’d had a seat in the arena’s VIP box with the tenured faculty, Lady Agnue, and Lord Channing.

  I wondered what she’d thought of the spectacle, and how she felt about watching me—her insubordinate foe—actually succeed at something and get acclaim for it.

  Eh. Who cares?

  According to Daniel, the Godmother Supreme would be returning this evening to render the same spell-lifting service when the boys needed to enter our campus for the ball. I guess that meant she would probably be staying for the ball too, so she could let them out at the end. Perhaps a party would be good for her. If anyone needed to loosen up, it was that woman. Maybe I would pay one of the older boys at Lord Channing’s to ask her to dance. Better yet, one of the younger ones.

  I can see it now—a twelve-year-old prince standing on his toes to waltz with the six-foot-tall statue of a woman.

  Ha.

  An alert went off in my brain like an alarm.

  How long have I been daydreaming?

  I scurried inside and buckled down. This time I worked steadfastly, ignoring the calls of the fresh air. Blue and Kai returned to the room at some point, but I barely paid them any mind as they got ready for the ball.

  “It’s kind of strange not having SJ around to force us to get to the ball early so we can help set up, huh?” Blue remarked when she was nearly done.

  “Uh-huh,” I said absentmindedly. I was trying to get through my final paper, only half paying attention to anything else.

  “You know, I’ve barely spoken with her for a few minutes since she’s been gone,” Blue continued. “She is so busy with Merlin and Julian.”

  “Uh-huh,” I replied again, underlining a misspelling.

  “It’s just too bad about that lab accident she had yesterday that left her with six fingers on her right hand,” Blue said.

  “Uh-huh. Wait, what?” I put down the quill and spun around in my chair.

  “Kidding,” Blue said with a shrug. “I wanted to make sure you were listening.”

  I huffed in annoyance. “Blue, I’m listening, but I’m also concentrating. I’m so close to being done with these papers it’s tantalizing.” I took a double take at Blue’s radiant maroon gown with shimmering strapless bodice.

  “You look nice by the way,” I said.

  “And what about me?” Kai asked, emerging from the bathroom in a navy gown with a gold leaf design that wrapped around the dress then expanded to the shoulders. She twirled—her black, luscious hair whirling with her. “Before I met you guys, I never got the chance to dress for a proper ball. I think I’m totally working it, don’t you?”

  “You look like a true princess and protagonist,” I replied with a genuine smile.

  “You don’t however,” Blue said to me as she pulled on her heels. “You planning on going to the ball in your sweats?”


  I harrumphed with indignation. “If you would let me finish, I could get changed.”

  “All right, all right,” Blue said. “Kai, are you ready?”

  “Yup.”

  “Then let’s go help ol’ Madame Lisbon finish prepping the ballroom. We’ve got twenty minutes to spare and, SJ gone or not, I’m kind of used to it.”

  “Fine by me,” Kai said. “Bye, Crisa. See you down there.”

  “I’ll meet you after I drop these papers off to Madame Alexanders,” I said, not taking my eyes off the essay for one more second.

  The door closed and I devoured the last of my assignment. Thankfully, seven minutes later, I was finally done. I collapsed against the desk dramatically, but quickly picked myself up and moved like wildfire to get ready. The ball was going to start soon.

  With the speed of a falcon on the hunt, I flew around the room and got ready. I zipped up my school-made dress (a one shoulder gown with dagger-like streaks of teal and black), brushed my hair (which thankfully I’d had the good sense to wash after the match), and pulled on a pair of black combat boots that stayed perfectly hidden beneath my large skirt. Lastly, I threw on a velvet cloak that came with the outfit. It was the same teal color as the dress and lined with black velvet. The cloak also had glittery silver embroidery along the front, around the sleeves, and across the frame of the hood.

  Once I’d finished putting myself together, I had the impulse to collect my wand from its hiding place. My ten days of Magic Exhaustion reboot were up. I could transform the weapon back to its wandpin state and carry it with me like I always did. However, as I reached for its hiding place in the closet, I changed my mind. This morning I’d wanted one more day without acknowledging my magic, and I was determined to finish that out.

  Today I’d been powerful and strong and had earned respect without it. Maybe that wouldn’t last. Maybe by the time the clock struck midnight at the ball, I would turn back into a proverbial pumpkin and my deeds of the day would be forgotten; I’d once again be princess non grata. But even if it was for a few more hours of make-believe, wasn’t it worth it?

  It was.

  I left the wand behind, gathered up Madame Alexanders’s papers, and put them in her briefcase before switching off the lights to my room and shutting the door. I descended the stairs like a normal person—I wasn’t about to slide down a banister in a ball gown with a briefcase. I was adventure-prone, not crazy.

  The potions lab was on the opposite side of the school from the ballroom. Since it was Saturday and everyone else was on their way to the party, this area of the school was deserted. The lanterns and dome-shaped chandeliers along the hall were either dimmed or completely switched off. The school always encouraged us to conserve electricity so I understood, but it caused this part of the school to feel more like a haunted house than a princess academy.

  As I neared my final destination, I passed a few guards in uniform. I gave them a casual wave, but none reciprocated the greeting. I wasn’t terribly surprised; a lot of guards at this school were super serious military types, and right now they were at their most formal. Lady Agnue’s guards typically worked in traditional knightly attire with helmets and all, but during balls they wore full military regalia with fancy sashes and kept the visors of their helmets down, which they didn’t have to do ordinarily.

  “Professor?” I knocked on the door of the potions lab.

  “Come in, dear,” Madame Alexanders called.

  I opened the door and went inside. Only half the lights were on and the large lab desks cast long shadows. During the daytime, the potions lab was one of the most colorful rooms on campus because of its many shelves brimming with jars of weird ingredients ranging from unicorn hair (which glowed pink) to elf kidney stones (which glowed red). At the rear of the classroom, grand crystal vats held a rainbow collection of liquid ingredients. The colors bounced off the glass beakers, vials, and other lab equipment on desks. Tonight, the combination of all these vibrant hues with the shadows made the whole laboratory feel like a shady kaleidoscope.

  Madame Alexanders was sitting at her desk beside the two floor-to-ceiling windows. Lab equipment was spread in front of her, and a couple of briefcases were at her side. One was open—the case with all the samples of Poppy Potions we’d created and tested together throughout the semester. The other was closed.

  My professor’s journal was laid out and surrounded by empty ingredient jars. Based on the fat cauldron perched over the transportable stovetop in front of her, I reasoned she’d been brewing for a while. It reminded me of SJ, and that made me glad.

  The only jar that wasn’t empty was the one that held Poppies. Tiny wisps of drowsy gas were coming out of it, so it wasn’t fully sealed.

  “What’s with the late-night brewing, professor?” I asked.

  Madame Alexanders continued working as she spoke. “I am finishing up the Poppy Potion you and I have been concocting this week. I told you Monday that this brew involved multiple stages?”

  “Yes,” I said. “But why complete the final stage now? Couldn’t we do it on Monday during our next TA session?”

  “I wish we could—it’s awfully late to be working on a weekend—but I’m afraid it has to be done now. Come, I’ll show you why. Just shut the door first. The clanking of the passing guards distracts me terribly.”

  I obliged and approached my teacher’s desk.

  “You have those papers you were grading for me, yes?”

  “Yeah.” I heaved the briefcase onto her desk, frowning slightly when I thought about all the hours I’d spent on the assignment.

  “Boring, grueling work?” Madame Alexanders asked, seeing my expression.

  “The boringest and gruelingest,” I replied. “But don’t worry, I did the work thoroughly and took the job seriously. I want to earn my grade in this class fair and square.”

  “Good. Take them out while I finish with my part of this potion.”

  I nodded, removed my cloak because the room was notably warm, and started unloading the papers. Madame Alexanders carefully used her forceps to drop an entire Poppy into the large cauldron. When she did, the brew inside bubbled and turned silvery. It smelled like pumpkin bread, heavy on the nutmeg and cloves.

  “Finally,” Madame Alexanders said, looking quite pleased with herself. She retrieved a syringe from her open lab case. Each time we finished a new potion, she’d take a sample and inject it into a vial to be corked.

  “You know, I have spent many long months trying to perfect this exact Poppy Potion, Crisanta,” Madame Alexanders said. “So much studying, so many notes, so many mistrials. But I was always a step behind. I didn’t have all the information, so I had to tinker. This week, though, I was given the missing piece of the puzzle. After that, I only had to wait for you to bring me the last thing I needed. These papers.”

  She put the syringe down and reached for the large stack of essays I’d labored over. She picked the stack up in its entirety, and before I could process what was happening, she dropped it in the cauldron.

  “What the heck?” I exclaimed. I rushed over and peered over the brim of the cauldron as the essays disintegrated like confetti in the rain.

  “Crisanta, I had you grade those papers because that was the final ingredient needed for this potion to work,” my professor explained.

  “Essays?” I said, still in shock.

  “No, dear. ‘Essence of Boredom.’ Following my failed attempt at this potion with you earlier in the term, my research uncovered that this ingredient helps make sleeping potions much stronger by extending the time before they wear off. I knew how bored you would be grading a hundred papers, so I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to collect the final ingredient. I’m sorry to trick you. You did say you wanted to earn your grade though.”

  I was angry that Madame Alexanders had used me as her guinea pig—saddling me with so many hours of busywork just for another dumb lab exercise. However, I was also confused.

  “Which Poppy Pot
ion is this?” I asked, realizing she’d never exactly said while we worked together this week. “I don’t recall us brewing one earlier in the semester that looked like this. I think I would remember using a whole Poppy in a potion. Normally we only put in a few petals because their effect is so strong.”

  “I know, but this potion needs the extra oomph,” Madame Alexanders replied. “Though the true kicker that makes this brew work actually was gifted to me by Lena Lenore of all people.”

  Madame Alexanders went over to her closed lab case and opened it with her back to me. I thought I heard the vague clanking of metal outside. A guard must’ve been passing by. When the professor turned around, she was holding something tiny and black with a pair of tweezers. She threw it into the cauldron before I could properly see what it was, but as the little black blob drowned, red-and-purple streaks like spider veins spread across the surface of the brew.

  “What did Lena Lenore give you?” I asked, surprised.

  Madame Alexanders dipped a syringe into the potion and took a sample of the liquid. “It’s like I was saying, Crisanta. The missing piece of the puzzle. More specifically, the information I needed to make this work.”

  Madame Alexanders suddenly turned on me, plunging the syringe into my arm and injecting the potion into me like a vaccine.

  “What are you doing?” I shouted, rubbing my arm and staggering away.

  “Finishing a semester-long project, dear,” Madame Alexanders said calmly, holding the empty syringe in one hand like it was a piece of blackboard chalk and she was teaching me a lesson. “You and Lenore gave me what I needed to fulfill my mission. Essence of Boredom only strengthens a Poppy Potion if the boredom comes from the person intended to be the victim of said potion. This meant I had to wait for you to return to school to get this vital ingredient. Additionally, when Lenore sent out that press release and informed the realm that your Pure Magic was the power of life, I knew there would only be one thing strong enough to counteract it in a brew. A Stiltdegarth.”