“No,” he said as he got up and ran into the dust cloud, ignoring the breathing difficulties. “No! No! No!”
He screamed louder each time, the frustration causing his hearbeat to accelerate. He stubbed his toe on something metallic and looked down as he swore numerous times.
Part of Omega One.
He limped toward where the old ship should have been. But there was nothing. The meteor had wiped it out and everything nearby. He walked further and felt the ground sloping sharply, revealing the crevice of his new home.
“No!”
Celeste. Celeste! Please. Just show up. Show me you’re here. Show me it was a trick of Typhos. Please!
“Typhos! Come back here! You want her, take both of us! Come on!”
He screamed into the brown air, unable to even see the trees. Nothing but dirt and small pockets of air surrounded him. All life in the immediate vicinity had perished. The green beneath his feet had turned brown. He could not see the sky with the dust cloud enveloping him. My world, ruined. Again.
My fault. I’m sorry, sis. I should’ve… I don’t know. I shouldn’t have run. I should’ve come and helped.
I… I’ll find you. I’ll get Erda to come back to Monda. We’ll rescue you. I swear we’ll save you, OK? I promise!
Just… don’t die. Please, please don’t die. I can’t live with that outcome or that thought.
He turned at the sound of footsteps. He saw the outline of Crystil at the edge of the crater and stormed over to her.
“You!” he said. “This… this is your fault! Your fault! You’re the reason Celeste is gone!”
Crystil said nothing, but her eyes expressed so much sorrow that Cyrus softened. He didn’t know what to think. But someone had take the blame.
“You… you don’t get mad at us, and, and… I don’t have to go with you, and we’re still with Celeste… Celeste would be here. And I…”
He let out a long sigh as tears welled in his eyes. Crystil came closer and embraced him, and Cyrus lost control of his tears. They streamed out of his eyes and onto Crystil’s shoulder as he mourned the loss of his sister, the loss of his home, and the loss of the sense of family and community that he’d reestablished.
“I’m sorry, Crystil,” he said between sobs as she continued to hold him tight. “It’s not your fault. You’re the reason we’re still alive. I’m sorry. I just…”
“Cyrus, it’s OK,” Crystil said, her voice warm and empathic. She finally had the persona of a caring, sincere friend more than someone just trying to be his friend. “I’m hurt too. I love Celeste as well. It hurts me more than I think you realize, though I know I can’t possibly feel what you feel.”
Cyrus let out one loud sniffle and wiped the tears away from his cheeks. He looked at his commander and saw wetness in her eyes too, if not actual tears. She kept her hands on his side as she waited for him to speak.
“It’s just… ugh.”
He sniffled once more and looked down. When he looked back up, Crystil had assumed her commander’s stoic expression.
“I’m going to help you do everything we can to get her back. We need to plan. We need to train. We have time, Cyrus. I know it’s painful to think of her with Typhos, but you saw him. He wants to turn her to his side. He’s going to work her, and we know she’s strong enough to resist. We can’t go now, or we’ll die. But we will plan how to get her back, OK?”
Tough. But it’s why I love this girl.
“OK,” Cyrus said, his voice a bit shaky. “I know you’re good for it, Crystil.”
“Always,” she said, a slight smile coming to her face. “We can’t be fooling around anymore, though.”
“I know.”
“And we need to come up with a good plan. I don’t have ideas right now, but—”
“I do.”
Both Cyrus and Crystil turned as the dust parted to Erda’s presence. The opening reached the two of them, and the three stood mere feet from each other in a magical cocoon where they could breathe and talk easily.
“Erda, where did you go?” Cyrus asked, suspicion in his voice.
Erda pursed her lips as she looked down at the ground.
“I ran. I’m sorry, Cyrus.”
I… I just… it doesn’t matter, Cyrus. Yell at her, curse at her, it won’t bring Celeste back. Only working with Erda will do that.
“Why?” he asked.
“Self-preservation,” she said, before adding after a long pause, “and old habits.”
It doesn’t matter. She’s honest, at least.
“I can only promise that I won’t run away the next time we have a situation like this. In any case, Cyrus, what Crystil said about Typhos is right. He is ruthless and cunning, but he’s not out of control. He recognizes opportunity when it presents itself, and to him, there’s been no better opportunity than to convert Celeste to his side.”
“OK, stop with that, because that’s not going to happen,” Cyrus said with a rising voice. “What does matter is that we have time. And that all of us are in agreement that our top priority right now is my sister, right?”
Crystil nodded quickly. Erda hesitated.
“I agree, but only for one reason,” Erda said. “We cannot defeat Typhos without her. I realized during battle, when he summoned that meteor, that he has become far stronger than even I. Far more powerful than even my pessimistic side would have believed. Celeste, however… she is not strong enough to defeat him alone. Not yet, anyways. But she’s the only one with the potential to do so. If we all work together, we might be able to defeat Typhos, but the three of us without Celeste are not strong enough.”
I don’t care. Let Typhos live the rest of his days on Monda in my father’s place if it means we get Celeste back.
“I don’t care why you agree, Erda. I just care that you agree.”
“I do,” Erda said. “But we need to leave. Now. We need to go to Mount Ardor.”
“And how long do we prepare and train?” Cyrus demanded.
An ominous pause came.
“Cyrus, the training is not on any schedule. The training is to fill the space until we have an opportunity when Typhos leaves Monda.”
No. No. Not good enough.
Cyrus swore as he limped away, trying to calm himself down. Celeste will die in that time frame. We can’t… no, set a time limit, and then prepare. If he hasn’t left the planet by then, we go.
“Not gonna work,” he said when he came back, speaking in a slow pace to avoid cracking. “I believe Typhos will not hurt Celeste at first. But how can we know that she’ll be alive the next time he goes to a planet? How do we even know—”
“Cyrus, she’s right,” Crystil said. If the soldier of the group says it…
“This is how it will happen, Cyrus,” Erda said. “Typhos will try and persuade Celeste to join his side. He is a patient man when he needs to be, either in getting what he wants or in playing mind games with his foes. When he breaks, he shatters, but with someone as potent as Celeste, he will not even crack for quite some time. Should that fail—and I suspect it will be weeks before Typhos gives up—he will torture her and try and pick her brain, either to learn her magic or to guide her to his side. Typhos likes, as much as I hate to admit it, to stretch this out as long as possible. Only then, after weeks of torture, will he kill her. That gives us months of time to operate. I know from my encounter with Typhos that he wants to do more than just conquer Monda. He will grow impatient, and will use planetary conquest as a distraction from any failures with Celeste.”
One thing bugged at Cyrus as his mind raced through the possibilities.
“Could Typhos win over her?”
Erda sighed and looked away. Not the response I was looking for.
“Typhos… when he killed the chief and a councilor, and we threw him in jail, I thought for sure the Kastori would support us. He had no means of using mind control spells in that prison. But Typhos has persuasive gifts that require no magic. He has a sharp tongue, an unbe
lievable ability to deduce details, and a dangerously charming personality that can win over just about anyone. I would not assume that Celeste is invulnerable.”
“So…”
Celeste would never. No. There’s no way. Not a chance.
“Cyrus, I know what you’re thinking. I want to think the same thing you are. But I can’t because that would be a lie.”
“No!” he shouted as he folded his arms. “You know Celeste!”
“Yes, and I know Typhos.”
Cyrus screamed in frustration as he kicked the ground in frustration, sending dust clouds up. He walked away from the two women and the dust, where he could see the stars once more and feel a bit more grounded. No freak rocks from space were coming, and no enemies from a planet he thought he’d left behind would appear. Cyrus calmed himself, and it helped that the gentle hand of Crystil on his shoulder once more slowed his heart.
“I’m frustrated too,” she whispered. “But listen to what Erda has to say. We disagree calmly, OK?”
Cyrus nodded as they both turned to Erda emerging from the dust as well.
“Are we at least in agreement, Cyrus, that we will go and train and wait for the right time?” she asked.
With a grunt and a deep breath, Cyrus replied, “For now.”
“Good. Our goals with each of you will be to make you strong enough to defeat any guardians or other Kastori we run across. The guardians were the Kastori you saw in dark black robes, destroying our town. They are not as powerful as they appear—the element of surprise and our ennui caused our defeat as much as their power. You both will need to continue training in sword fighting, an assignment which I leave up to you, Crystil. Cyrus, I will train you to use magic in tandem with your sword to make you a dual threat to enemies both near and far. Crystil, I cannot teach you magic, but I can teach you how to wield one of our swords so that you may deflect and even reflect magic.”
Cyrus turned to Crystil as a subtle smile creased her mouth. She’s finally included in this. Nice. We’re all gonna play a part in getting Celeste back. All of us against some weak magicologists…
Just gotta wait for the right moment. It’ll come.
“I warn you both, though, that the training you undergo will be brutal. Oxygen is in short supply at the peak, making tasks that you think you are fit for strenuous. I will harp on you constantly to train because Typhos could go to a new planet in the next five hours or five months. I will test you both not just physically, but psychologically. I will make your lives awful during these tests, because when you encounter Typhos, he will not just try to beat you with brute force. He will trick you with illusions, false sensations and all sorts of traps. You may very well come to hate me when it is all said and done. I need to make sure that you are aware of this.”
Cyrus started to speak, but Crystil’s firm hand stopped him. Let the soldier speak.
“I hated my officer for much of my training, but it worked out well,” she said. “As long as Cyrus has his big boy pants on, we’ll be ready.”
“Aww no, you can’t challenge me like that,” he shot back.
“Think about it, both of you,” Erda said. “This is serious. I will be back in a couple of minutes. Think it through.”
Erda departed, and Cyrus turned to Crystil, who had resumed her stoic face. Whatever interest you had in her, it’s on hold. Don’t distract yourself with anything other than your sister’s rescue. Crystil can wait. She wants the same thing you want, and is probably thinking the same thing.
“All business?” Cyrus asked.
“Completely,” Crystil said, affirming Cyrus’ suspicions.
“I’m in then,” Cyrus said.
“You’ll need to work on your sword fundamentals,” Crystil said, and for the next couple of minutes, Crystil reviewed exactly that before Erda made her return. She allowed herself to smile when heard their discussion.
“There’s only one thing I need to know,” Cyrus said.
He thought about the question, one that nagged at him, and one he didn’t want to ask, but one he knew he’d regret if he didn’t.
“Will you be able to sense if Typhos is about to execute Celeste?”
Erda paused, deep in thought. Cyrus didn’t like the look of that but kept silent. If you say you can’t… if three months pass and we get nothing, we’re going. I’ll die for her. I don’t care.
“I cannot promise that.”
Ninety days. Begins now.
“But I will use all of my power and strengthen my sense magic to learn of her fate before it is too late. That, I can promise.”
Good enough.
Cyrus and Crystil both closed their eyes as Erda began teleporting them to the peak of Mount Ardor.
27
Celeste stood before Typhos outside her prison, shaken, but not broken. Typhos had her in the exact state he wanted—weakened, and susceptible, but not damaged beyond repair. He dismissed his guardians and walked up to her slowly, making sure each step echoed through the interior of the temple.
“Remember, child, how this goes is up to you,” he said as he put a hand on her cheek. “I have no intention of hurting you. But I also do not have infinite patience. Your brother and friends on Anatolus are dead. You have no one left but me. Do you really want to die alone?”
The girl said nothing, even as she kept her eyes locked on his mask. It’s a shame she’s on the other side. I have never met anyone with such power. I wonder where she got it.
“You don’t have to answer that now,” he said as he cast a quick spell to open the door to her prison—normally a room with a darkened void but for her, a room with walls, a hard bed, and a chair. “But it would behoove you to answer it soon.”
He put his hand firmly on her back and guided her in. As he led her, he quickly dived into her mind. Celeste. Beautiful name. And Cyrus was her brother. A tragedy. Sacrifices must be made at times.
Celeste went and sat on the bed, not looking at Typhos, as she closed her eyes.
“Don’t bother using your magic in here. You cannot—”
“Who said anything about that?” Celeste said.
Typhos breathed deeply to calm himself. You need to catch up with Gaius. This can wait.
“Ask for me anytime you wish to talk. If you do not, I will summon you at some point.”
The god of Monda slammed the door shut and let out an exasperated sigh as he walked back to the throne room. He ordered Gaius to meet him there and reflected on his walk.
Failed to kill Erda again. I might have to blind myself with rage to kill her. She’s too entrenched in my past for me to rationally kill her like the rest.
Maybe Celeste could do it. But then she might match me in power, and I don’t need a coup on my hands. I already have someone here trying to do that, and the last thing I need is two traitors.
Or, Typhos, you can be strong and put the sword through her heart. Close your eyes if you have to. You alone control your blade.
“My Lord.”
Typhos snapped out of his thoughts and walked with purpose to Gaius, who kneeled before him.
“Rise,” Typhos commanded. “Did anything happen in the time that we were on Anatolus?”
“Nothing happened, my Lord, but the camp closest to us was showing suspicious activity. I sensed much of the camp congregating when they should not have, and though I could not sense what they discussed, they seemed to be communicating in some code.”
“And our Kastori patrolling the camp?”
“They have done nothing, my Lord. I don’t think they suspect anything.”
Typhos groaned. I should just kill them all. Concentrate the storm.
No. You know who’s there.
And you know how fun it is to drag this out for him.
“Go to the camp. Find out what you can. If anyone is planning an attack, bring them to me. I will need to blow off some steam from my new captive. If I am away when you bring them to the temple, throw them into one of our dark prisons.”
> “Yes, my Lord,” Gaius said as he bowed before walking down the flight of stairs.
Typhos let him leave and walked into his throne room.
The girl isn’t going to want to talk to me. I’ll need to move things along. If she wants to help me conquer my next world, this can’t wait long.
In fact…
Typhos paused at his chair, just before sitting down, and whirled back around, marching to his prized prisoner.
28
Work in the field every day. And for what? To grow crops we will never eat? To clean land that none of us will ever use for anything other than labor?
I think we need to do something soon. I’m reaching my limit.
Petrus wiped his brow as the sun rose on a new day, one that would mirror every single day since Typhos had usurped power. Work from sunrise to sunset, with only one break for food and two for water. Receive a “briefing” on how everyone performed that day, followed either by sleep or more work—the latter more often than not.
Maybe today I’ll spend extra time at the water. I—
“Petrus!”
Gaius.
This will hurt, but then he’ll help.
The guardian approached, and Petrus braced himself for a rough welcoming. Gaius grabbed him by the neck and dragged him, a rather public display of the magicologist’s strength over the humans.
“You are planning something. What is it?!”
Don’t say anything. Just wait until you’re inside.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Petrus. I know what you did. I know what all of you are doing. Speak now or come out of this shed with more scars than you would after Typhos!”
It’s all an act. Sometimes too real but all an act.
Gaius opened the door to a shed and tossed Petrus inside. Petrus collided with the wall and groaned as Gaius slammed the door behind him.
“Do you always have to be so physical?”
“Appearances matter more than most people would care to admit,” Gaius said as he came over and lifted Petrus up. “But in this case, I come to you because we have a real development that may aid us in our quest.”
Kastori Devastations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 2) Page 10