Crystal: Starlatten Book One

by Darby Cupid

  My eyes find Crystal. She’s stood, still as a statue, her face glazed. People begin to whisper and point, taking their phones out and pointing them towards our group. I shake my head, trying to shuffle the events into something that makes sense. Was it her? Did Crystal have something to do with what just happened? No. Impossible. She seems to sense me watching her and as our eyes meet, she snaps out of her trance. Before I can speak, she turns and runs.

  I chase after her. Pushing through the busy street, I follow close behind as she weaves in between the shoppers. Reaching out, I grab hold of her wrist. She tries to pull away, her eyes fixed on the path in front of her.

  “Crystal! Stop! Please,” I plead.

  At the sound of my voice, she slows, her arm relaxing as she turns to face me. Her face is streaked with tears and she looks terrified.

  I put my hands on her shoulders, trying to ignore the people giving us second looks as they walk past. “Come on. We need to get out of here.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Crystal

  Dylan leads me away from the town, toward green mounds and spaced out dwellings. It looks similar to where I landed. I watch him as he leads the way, a step ahead of me. He’s tall. Not as tall as a Dyja guard, but still tall. His hair is halfway between blond and brown and somewhere perfectly between tidy and too long. His shoulders are tense. My heart sinks a little. It’s my fault they’re like that. We haven’t spoken since the high street.

  I shiver. The air is cooler than when we first left the hospital and I note that the sun star is lower in the sky. I glance again at the blanket of blue above me. There’s so much of it! Without three moons taking up space, it seems so vast; so solitary.

  On the long walk here, I’ve played the scenario from the high street over and over in my head. It was instinct. That vehicle was going to hit Eddie. It could have killed him.

  Back home, on Starlatten, I never managed to lift anything heavier than a small figurine. My professors would be impressed I managed to lift a person so high into the air. However, I have no time to relish in my success, because ultimately, I’ve failed. I have no idea how to even begin to explain this.

  We reach a small fenced-off area filled with strange colourful apparatus and I spot Sera and Linda sitting on seats suspended from a bar by chains. Jordan and Eddie sit on opposite ends of a large circular seat made of orange bars. They seem to be purposely facing away from each other. Curiosity bubbles in my stomach and I can’t stop the question as it bursts from my lips.

  “What is this place?”

  “This is a playground,” Sera answers, leaving her suspended seat and folding her arms across her chest. “Now, what are you?”

  “Sera,” Dylan interjects. He’s still standing beside me, although he’s clearly keeping what he perhaps perceives is a safe distance. “Let’s just slow down. We need to give Crystal a chance to explain.”

  As he looks at me, I can tell he’s hoping for a very normal and simple explanation. He’s going to be very disappointed. I consider lying. Would they even believe the truth? After all, this planet is beyond primitive. Can they fathom the concept of life from another universe?

  “Look. Whatever happened back there,” Eddie stands and offers me his hand. “You saved my life. Thank you.”

  I stare at his hand, then back at his face. He’s smiling, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. I wonder whether he’s afraid of me. Unsure what to do, I decide it must be some sort of gesture of peace, so I hold my hand out in front of me in a similar fashion.

  I very quickly realise it’s a mistake.

  “See!” Linda cries, leaping up from her hanging seat to join the others. She points at my hand. “What is that? Who doesn’t know what a handshake is?”

  Handshake. That seems quite self-explanatory. Straightening my shoulders, I take hold of Eddie’s extended hand and shake it firmly up and down. “Is that better?”

  Eddie stares from my hand to his and bursts out laughing, shaking his head as he flops back down on his seat.

  “Okay,” Dylan says, his eyes searching mine. “Let’s start from the beginning. Do you really have amnesia?”

  Jordan throws his hands in the air. “Eddie literally flies and that’s the first question you ask?”

  “I said we were starting at the beginning,” Dylan says, narrowing his eyes. “What do you think beginning means?”

  Worried that things will escalate again, I take a deep breath and let the truth tumble from my lips. “No. I don’t have amnesia. I just said that because I knew they wouldn’t believe me. The truth is, I remember everything. I remember my ship being attacked. I remember crashing here. I remember losing… everything.”

  As I choke the last word out, my eyes flood with tears and my knees buckle beneath me. Jordan and Dylan reach out, catching me by my elbows, before I hit the ground. They ease me onto the orange monstrosity as I try to breathe, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to inhale. Is it the atmosphere? Can I suddenly not breathe the air anymore?

  My heartrate rockets into lightspeed and black spots float in the corner of my vision. This is it. This is how I die.

  “Breathe, Crystal,” Dylan says at my shoulder. “You’re hyperventilating. You need to breathe.”

  I want to scream at him that I’m trying to, but I still can’t get any air in my lungs. A hand starts to rub slow circles on my back, and I realise Dylan is trying to get me to look at him as he hunches at my side. I force myself to meet his gaze and he gives me a reassuring smile.

  “Inhale,” he says quietly. “Exhale. You can do this. Just try to relax.”

  There’s something oddly calming about the circles he’s creating between my shoulder blades and as I relax, my chest begins to expand, allowing oxygen to flow once more.

  Once my breathing evens out, I swipe the tears from my face, my body shuddering. I’m exhausted. Dylan’s hand continues to rub my back and I smile gratefully at him.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  I focus on the line that’s formed between his eyebrows and nod.

  “So – a ship?” Sera ventures. “You’ve been shipwrecked?”

  “Of course!” Eddie exclaims, relief dripping from the words. “You’re from another country!”

  “Are you guys out of your tiny minds?” Jordan rises to his feet again, his hands gripping his tight curls. “That doesn’t explain anything! We are literally nowhere near the sea. Where’s her boat? She speaks our language but doesn’t know what a bus is? How does that work?”

  “Jordan, seriously,” Dylan holds a hand up to him. “You need to calm down. Crystal, are you ready to answer more questions?”

  “It’s fine,” I say. There’s no point postponing the inevitable. “My name is Crystal Akinara. I am the daughter of the King and Queen of Starlatten. We were on our way to peace talks on the planet Ankaria when our ship was attacked by rebels. A few people escaped in evacuation pods. I was one of the lucky few. I crashed here and you found me.”

  I’m too scared to look at their faces as my words sink in. Dylan’s hand leaves my back and I bite my lip. I gave them the shortest version I could, and it still might be too much.

  “What is ‘Starlatten’?” Eddie asks, after a painful eternity.

  I lace my fingers together over my knees and force myself to look at him. “A planet. Quite a long way from this one.”

  Sera shakes her head beside me. “Okay. So, you’re crazy?”

  “I’m going to call Mum,” Linda announces, reaching for her bag.

  “Wait!”

  I look up to see Jordan, his arms outstretched.

  “Don’t you see,” he says. “This is the first thing that makes sense!” He crouches down in front of me, his dark brown eyes intense. “How did you do that to Eddie?”

  Reaching inside my top, I pull out my amulet. “I can lift objects. This amulet amplifies and channels my mind’s abilities.”

  “Okay then!” Jordan stands and gestures to the group. “No one els
e have any questions?”

  After a moment of silence, Linda stands and walks a short distance away. She puts the small metallic box, I think is called a ‘phone’, down on the floor, before returning to the orange seat.

  “Go on then,” she says, looking at me expectantly. “Bring it over.”

  Bewildered, I glance at their wary faces before turning to the object on the ground. It’s a lot easier to lift something so small when you’ve lifted a person and I barely have to concentrate before the amulet warms against my skin. I lift it off the ground and even make it spin around a couple of times before moving it to the space in front of Linda, who stands staring at it, her mouth agape.

  “Aren’t you going to take it?” I ask.

  Cautiously, she reaches out and takes the phone, examining it carefully. “Oh. My. God. So many questions.”

  Dylan runs a hand through his dark blonde hair and shakes his head. “So, you’re really from another planet?”

  “Yes,” I say. “Which is why I didn’t know what a bus was, or a train, or – what in Jetzia’s name this orange thing is.”

  Eddie points at the seat. “What? This orange thing?”

  “Yes!” I gesture at the other strange contraptions. “What is it? What is this place for?”

  “It’s called a roundabout,” he explains with a chuckle. “And this place is where little kids come to play.”

  He motions for me to move and proceeds to show me how the roundabout spins on the spot. Dylan jumps on and the two of them go so fast, I reach a hand to my stomach as it begins to churn.

  “See?” Eddie calls out. “Fun!”

  I’m not so sure, but they look so pleased with themselves, I can’t help but smile. Linda and Sera run back to the suspended seats and start swinging backwards and forwards on them.

  “These are swings!” they shout in unison.

  “I guess we’ve got a lot to explain too.”

  I glance up to find Dylan standing beside me, a playful light in his eye. “It must be a lot to take in.” He smiles a smile that warms me inside before turning to the others who are running around the playground giggling. “Hey! How about we use that pizza money your mum left us?”

  I reach up and tap him on the arm. “About that,” I whisper. “What’s ‘pizza?’”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jake

  I’d give absolutely anything to be somewhere else right now, but I’m trapped. Trapped in my room, with the sounds of smashing and shouting echoing below me.

  I glance at the window, considering the possibility of climbing out undetected and slipping away into the warm summer evening. Curiosity keeps my feet glued to the floor. I can’t be sure, but it sounds like whatever Uncle Cas wanted retrieved has already been taken. Listening to a conversation through floorboards, without context, is like listening to a foreign language when you only know a few words.

  A door slams and it goes quiet. Chills run up my spine and my eyes flit to the window, but I’m too slow. The sound of footsteps on the stairs barely registers before my door flies open. At six foot four, Cas fills the doorway.

  His amber eyes flash with disgust at the sight of me. “Going somewhere?”

  “No.” I will myself not to look at the window. How could he possibly know?

  His expression doesn’t even flicker. “I need you to go keep watch on a house.”

  My mouth falls open as I realise I’ve mentally prepared myself for a beating. I take another look at him. His shoulders are tensed and his fists are clenched. The deep furrows in his forehead, combined with his salt and pepper hair, make him seem older and more tired than I’ve noticed before. I have no idea how old he is, and I wouldn’t dream of asking.

  “Which house?” I ask carefully.

  “264 Maple Avenue.” He folds his arms across his broad chest. “Any more questions?”

  I know he’s not really asking, but I need more information. “What am I watching for?”

  “The man who lived there took something of mine.” Cas’ eyes bore into mine. “I think someone else will come looking for it. When they do, tell me.”

  Knowing this is as much information as I’m likely to get, I nod.

  He stares at me for a moment before looking pointedly at my door. “What are you waiting for?”

  My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What? Now?”

  “Yes,” he says as though I’ve asked the most ridiculous question in the world. “And don’t come back without information.”

  Grabbing my black leather jacket from the end of my bed, I jog downstairs, not daring to look back. I play the conversation over in my head, repeating the address. I don’t think it’s particularly far away, and as I check on my phone, I realise I’m right. It’s only an hour’s walk away.

  Despite being summer, there’s an evening chill creeping into the air and I’m grateful I remembered to grab a jacket. Uncle Cas’ words keep coming back to me. The man who lived there. Lived. Past tense. I wonder when he stopped living there. Poor guy.

  Sirens and flashing lights shatter the serene beginnings of a lovely sunset as I approach Maple Avenue. I know they’re outside number 264 long before I reach it. It’s a nice street. Lots of detached and semi-detached houses with well-kept gardens and large, leafy trees dotted along the pavement. Number 264 was probably nice too before someone blew it up.

  I stop and stare from the opposite side of the road, amidst the crowd of concerned neighbours. Three fire engines, four police cars and a bomb disposal unit vehicle take up a huge section of the street and it’s hard to see the extent of the damage. There are black scorch marks streaked up the cream, pebble-dashed side of the house and a smouldering pile of rubble where I suspect a garage once stood.

  Rolling up onto my toes, I try to see above the crowd without drawing attention to myself. Something large and silver glints amongst the remains of the garage, but a team dressed in white hazmat suits are already putting a tent up around it.

  My hands clench into fists at my sides. How am I supposed to do this job without proper information? What was taken? Who is going to come looking for it? This doesn’t exactly look like the kind of street where dodgy dealings happen. Am I looking for a thieving middle-aged couple?

  Shrugging my jacket tighter around me, I look around for somewhere to set up watch. Behind me, narrow paths link the back gardens of the houses creating small alleyways. I choose one with a good view of number 264 and slip away into the shadows, attempting to get comfortable for what might be a painfully long wait.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Crystal

  “So, Your Majesty, what do you think of pizza?” Dylan asks.

  I pinch at a string of pale yellow, stretching from my mouth to the slice I’m holding, and a smile spreads across my lips. “It’s delicious. I’ve definitely never had anything quite like it before.”

  The past hour has been surreal. Sitting in Eddie and Linda’s home, listening to them chat about their plans for the ‘summer holidays’, my head hurts from trying to piece together words and phrases I don’t understand. Everyone insisted that I sit on a large, soft cushioned seat, while Jordan, Sera and Linda sit on a longer version. Dylan and Eddie are sprawled on the floor leaning against the base of the soft chairs, which they insisted they didn’t mind as it allowed them easier access to the pizza.

  As I look around, the muscles in my shoulders start to unclench and the tightness around my lungs loosens just a little. I can’t wait to tell people back home about all this.

  The tightness returns with a force that makes me gasp, choking on my bite of pizza. I mask it with a cough, giving Dylan a small smile as he glances up in concern. The list of everyone I’ve lost starts to scroll through my head like one of my father’s speeches on the holoprompter.

  It takes all my might to swallow the lump in my throat and refocus on what’s going on around me. I can grieve for my family when I get home. If I get home.

  “Right guys,” Eddie throws a piece of crust back in
to the now empty box on the low table between us. “It’s getting late. We need to decide what to do.”

  Linda frowns. “What do you mean?”

  “We have to decide what to do about Crystal,” Dylan explains with an apologetic glance up at me.

  My stomach instantly regrets that last slice of pizza. “What if the doctors don’t believe me?”

  “Believe you?” Eddie laughs, clutching at his sides, before jumping to his feet and pacing the room, gesticulating wildly. “Hello Doctor! I’m an alien. Do you have a space telephone so I can call my planet?”

  Dylan throws a cushion at him. “That’s enough, Ed. We get it.”

  “I don’t,” Sera mutters, her eyes fixed on her slice of pizza.

  “What Eddie is trying so subtly to illustrate,” Dylan explains, “is we can’t possibly tell anyone that Crystal is from another planet. Not only would they not believe us, she would probably be taken to some sort of psychiatric unit for assessment.”

  Eddie nods vigorously. “Exactly! Or, even worse, they might believe her!”

  “Why would that be worse?” Sera asks, eyes wide.

  “Because they’d take her away!” Eddie exclaims. “Put her in a tank! Cut her open!”

  My blood runs cold. Maybe I’ve misunderstood this planet after all. The pizza is a cold, hard rock in my stomach. How stupid of me to not ask more questions. How many visitors from other planets have suffered this fate? Are they going to cut me open to eat me? When Linda explained that ‘meat’ toppings available for the pizza came from animal lifeforms, I’d been disgusted. Now I find myself wondering, do Earth inhabitants eat humanoid lifeforms too?

  “Crystal? Are you okay? You’re practically green?”

  I’m aware of Dylan perched by my side, but I can’t bring myself to look at him.