Crisanta Knight: To Death & Back

CHAPTER 1 THE SPARE KNIGHT-2

“Crisa, you and Jason can’t fly,” Blue said, flinging another knife at an attacker. “Your minds couldn’t host enough joyful thoughts or whatever to remain airborne.”

“Then I’ll secure another means of transportation,” I stated. “Like this.”

I transformed my bow back to a wand, dropped to one knee, and placed my free hand on a stone the size of a carriage wheel.

Come to life. Beat up the soldiers. Show no mercy.

Golden light burst from my hand and encased the rock. A moment later, the rock lifted off the ground and flew toward the nearest group of soldiers. It began to pummel them like a chef tenderizing a tenderloin.

I spun back to my friends. “Peter and Daniel, go find Arthur. Blue and I will find Jason. SJ, help the Lost Boys and Girls until we’ve got everyone. Stay away from Arian and Alex.” I glanced around. There was no sign of my brother. “Wherever he is.”

The others nodded in agreement and we broke apart. Arian was still too distracted to pursue me, and I counted that as a blessing. Blue and I made for the perimeter of trees and plunged into the forest in search of our friend. Worried thoughts assailed my mind as we searched for him.

Thanks to my Pure Magic Disease, I’d had a vision of the future that Jason was going to die sacrificing himself for Blue. My vision had shown it occurring next to a river during the day, so I knew that this fate was not going to play out here. But the only way to break a prophecy was if the subject died prematurely, so Jason’s safety tonight was not ensured. There were so many enemies brooding in these woods, anything was possible. The image of my close friend getting stabbed with a spear as he stepped in front of Blue was hard to push away.

“Crisa.”

Blue’s voice drew me back to the present, and I came to a stop beside her. She pointed ahead at a clearing, where I spotted my old classmate and foe Mauvrey. She fought against three Lost Boys. A couple of them were in their teens, and each of them had a weapon—a sword, a sturdy hammer, and a large club. They were no match for her.

Mauvrey was wielding a pair of weapons that looked like bronze fingerless gloves. I knew from personal experience that they packed a punch. With her use of those unorthodox accessories, the fight wouldn’t last ten seconds. Blue and I didn’t have time to intervene, but we sprinted toward the clearing anyway, watching the fight unfold before us.

Mauvrey shot out her right hand. A pair of thin, shimmering wires emerged from her glove. They wrapped around the wrist of one Lost Boy like dual whips. She closed her fingers over her palm twice then yanked her arm back. The wires reeled in like a super-speed fishing line and Mauvrey nailed the boy in the face with a brutal punch from her other hand.

The whips released the boy and snapped back to starting position. He swung his fist, but Mauvrey ducked and bobbed around his side. She elbowed him in the spine and kicked out his knee. The kid went down and she whirled around to meet the other two boys charging at her.

The princess extended both hands and each of her metallic gloves fired a set of whips. They ensnared the boys’ waists and Mauvrey pulled her arms apart, flinging the boys in opposite directions. They smashed into trees. Mauvrey unclenched her fists and crossed her pointer and middle fingers. In response, a charge of cackling energy surged down each set of whips and electrocuted the boys.

They shouted before the charge knocked them out. Again, Mauvrey closed her fingers around her palms twice and the wires reeled in with a rapid snap. Blue and I dashed into the clearing just as the first boy who’d attacked Mauvrey tried to get up, and she spun around and punched him in the head.

“Ladies,” Mauvrey said with a wicked smile, turning to face us as the boy collapsed to the ground. She wore a purple leather jacket that matched her spiky-heeled ankle boots. With certainty in her eyes and confidence in her gait, she took a few steps toward us.

“Blue, go find Jason,” I said.

“You sure?” Blue asked, glancing with concern at Mauvrey then back at me.

“Yes.”

Blue nodded and took off. My fingers tightened around my wand.

“I was hoping we would find you here,” Mauvrey said. “You have a talent for showing up when conflict breaks out. How fortunate that we will be able to secure you and Arthur in one siege.”

“Like you even have a shot,” I replied. “You and your people have been coming at me for months—unsuccessfully.”

Mauvrey glanced up at the orange hue of the sky and the smoke drifting from the main battle. “Then maybe we just need to turn up the heat. Who knows, perhaps if we kill enough people and unleash enough destruction, you will come willingly.”

I gulped and took in the fiery haze for myself. The antagonists may have been here for Arthur, but they’d gladly tear this place apart for me now that they knew I was within grasp.

Mauvrey made a tsk tsk sound and shook her head like she was disappointed.

“You know, Crisa, I pity your life choices. You could have avoided all the impending danger and death if you had stayed put in that coffin I sealed you in back in Midveil. By the way, I have been wondering, how did you beat the Poppy Potion I placed you under? That sleeping spell should have knocked you out for a full day.”

“Poppy Potions don’t work on me, Mauvrey,” I replied bitterly, remembering her attacking me in my own home.

“Probably a side effect of your magic,” Mauvrey mused, then shrugged as we started to circle each other. “Life, right? You must be getting powerful enough for the ability to expand in other ways.”

I frowned. I genuinely hadn’t thought about it. I knew I was getting more powerful, but I hadn’t linked that to my weird Poppy immunity. It made sense though. My ability was generating life, and Poppies put people to sleep by means of draining life energy. My body must’ve been accessing my magic without my command when I came into contact with the toxic flowers. I guess I hadn’t fully considered this possibility until now because I’d never tried to use my powers of life on myself. I didn’t know that I could.

“Must be tempting to hold such power,” Mauvrey continued. I eyed her bronze gloves, and the other weapons attached to her belt—a dagger within a sheath and a miniature crossbow with two arrows.

“Are you going to try and use that power on me?” she asked.

“I don’t need magic to beat you, Mauvrey.”

Mauvrey’s cruel grin returned. “I was hoping you would say that.”

She shot out her right hand.

Shield.

The whips from her glove bounced off my weapon as I raced at her. She closed her fingers twice, making the wires snap back. When I was four feet away, she extended her other hand. The whips came out. I ducked and rolled—Wand—landing to my feet on her other side.

Shield.

Again, I blocked a pair of wires headed for my chest, but I was unable to avoid the second set aimed at my legs. The whips snatched my ankle and Mauvrey yanked forcefully, pulling me off my feet.

My shoulders slammed into the dirt. I looked up and flung my shield at Mauvrey discus-style. It knocked her in the chest. She staggered back and her whips released their hold on me. I leapt up and grabbed the shield.

Spear.

I lunged, but Mauvrey sidestepped, spun, and evaded my strike. As she turned, she clapped her hands together. When she came out of the turn, her gloves were surging with electricity and she grabbed my spear with both hands. The staff acted like a lightning rod and the energy blasted me back. I let go of the weapon and was knocked against a tree. Mauvrey fired her mini dual-arrowed crossbow. It released two arrows attached together by a small wire. The wire caught my left wrist and pinned me down as the arrows plunged deep into the tree trunk.

I was still recovering from the electric shock and couldn’t react quick enough. Mauvrey fired a second shot, which captured my other wrist before I could move. Then the princess was in front of me with a dagger in hand.

I glared at her. “Go ahead. I dare you.”

Mauvrey smirked. “Not afraid of dying, Crisa?”

“Not afraid of you, Mauvrey. Besides, today is not the day for me to die. I know you need me as a fallback for the Great Lights Prophecy.”

Mauvrey crossed her arms, grudgingly impressed that I was aware of their play. “You are just lucky the Boar’s Mouth did not respond when Alex tested it. If The Oath he pledged to the current king of Camelot, King Rampart, had been accepted, you would be finished right now. Once your brother pledges The Oath to Arthur and gets the statue’s blessing all bets will be off and I will kill you in the most painful way possible.”

“You have no chance, Mauvrey. You’ll never capture Arthur,” I replied, struggling against my restraints. “You may have the numbers, but Arthur once ruled an empire. You really think you can beat him?”

“We can together,” a familiar voice answered. “And we’re not leaving until we do.”

I turned my head to see my brother walk into the clearing to join Mauvrey. The pair of them stood not three feet from where I was pinned. Alex was four years older than me, built like a hero, and taller than Mauvrey by a good five inches. I didn’t like how well they paired together—the blond hair, the blue eyes, the confidence.

It was weird. When I looked at Mauvrey, I felt spite and craved vengeance. When I looked at Arian, I felt hatred and intimidation. But when I looked at Alex, it was a mix of all four sentiments with the very distinct addition of sadness.

He’d betrayed my family, our kingdom, and everything that being a protagonist stood for. I wasn’t sure if I could ever completely erase the love I once held for him, but at this point it was so frozen over that its frost would have inspired the snow queen to put on a jacket.

Alex studied me. His face was hard, his expression steely, but his eyes held a tinge of remorse. Mauvrey may not have seen it, but I did. He and I were too close; I could read him like a book. He may have fully committed to the antagonist role, but old habits died hard.

“You didn’t hurt her, did you?” he asked Mauvrey, confirming my suspicions that a small part of him still wanted to protect me. This sentiment made me even more irate; after selling out our family to the antagonists and commons rebellion, and half destroying our castle, he had no right to pretend I still meant anything to him.

“Of course not,” Mauvrey responded. “But she knows about the Boar’s Mouth and the Great Lights Prophecy.”

“I would expect as much,” he responded. He pivoted back toward me. “Since we still don’t know which of us is going to qualify as the Knight of the prophecy, you’re going to have to come with us as a prisoner. I’m sorry about this.”