“Does anyone else wish to speak?” she said, again with a distressing lack of emotion.
Typhos looked around. No one so much as lifted their foot to step forward. No one else has a reason to speak.
“Typhos,” his mother said, her voice finally sounding like a mother and not as the chief. “This is your chance to say whatever you want before we vote on the matter.”
Take it.
He stepped into the middle of the circle and slowly faced everyone. The creepiness of the masks had worn off some, and Typhos took one gulp before he began.
“I am truly sorry,” he said. “I should never have lied to you, Amelia, Ramadus, and Garron, about what Fargus said. I did this only because I love my mother. I do want to become a member of the council someday. I cannot lie about that. But of greater importance is the love I have for my mother and the chief of the Kastori. Yes, I made a mistake.”
He paused to consider whether he would press ahead or surrender and fight another day. Press ahead, win now. Fight another day… what if you don’t get another day?
“But I would ask you all to think like Amelia did. She still supports my attempts to be with my mother and comfort her. I lied. I am not proud of that. But I am proud of the absolute truth of my love for my mother, and I would think that one lie should not change anything. I said true things to everyone I spoke to. I would hope that one relatively meager lie would not diminish the heavy, emotional truths which I spoke about.”
Typhos could sense the surprise from the councilors. Pleasant, or disturbed? Wish I had better control of my sense magic. He turned to his mother, who nodded in the direction of his previous spot. Typhos retuned to it.
“In situations like this, it is custom for the chief to speak,” Aida said, Typhos still unable to get over her dry and emotionless tone. “However, due to the obvious conflict of interest, I have nothing to say. All who are in favor of allowing Typhos Kaos to be present at the council, raise your hand.”
Typhos, his head still down in embarrassment, stole a glance. Not a single person raised their hand. All of you are caught up in the small lie. Does that really matter so much? Do you want to see your chief suffer? My mother?
“All who are against allowing Typhos Kaos to be present at the council, please raise your hand.”
Typhos could hear their arms raising, brushing against their robes. He didn’t need to look up to know it was unanimous.
“The motion is dismissed,” she said. “I am sorry, Typhos.”
It was the first thing she had said that sounded remotely like emotion.
“When a lie has been propagated, punishment is usually handed down. However, it typically takes a trial to determine such a fate. We do not wish to spend any time on this, so we ask you, Typhos. Do you accept the loss of magic for one day as punishment?”
Take it, son, it’s the best you’ll get.
Typhos heard the words of his mother in his head, and, though he wanted to fight it, he felt too defeated at the moment. Regroup. Plan from scratch. And go.
“I accept.”
He felt a whoosh from his back as one of the red magic councilors absorbed all of his powers. He felt naked, as he could not even muster a single spark.
“I will teleport you home at this time.”
Typhos nodded, closed his eyes, and felt the rush from his feet rising in his body. He opened his eyes after the feeling had completely enveloped him. He was back in front of his family’s tent. He tried casting a spell once more, but sure enough, Fargus had taken all his powers.
“I’ll be back,” he muttered.
And when I come back… no one’s going to support me. Amelia, Garron. That’s about it. Mom’s a mess. No one else likes me after that.
I need to go to Mom directly. Ignore the councilors. Go straight to the most powerful being on this world.
She’ll help me take her place.
21
Typhos stewed in his tent, ashamed at his humiliation from the council and feeling shackled without his powers. He waited on the edge of his mother’s bed for her to return and give him a chance to apologize.
Apologize for the way I handled it. Not for going to the council, though.
He went outside when he heard the first set of footsteps, and though he saw Garron entering his tent, he could not see his mother anywhere. Probably hiding from me, too embarrassed to face me. Or, more likely, as she always does, she’s working too late.
He went back inside and went deep into his thoughts on the side of the bed as he vacillated between shame, anger, sorrow and confusion. He could not break the cycle—and, after a certain time, he didn’t want to try to.
After he had cooked some stew and slowly slurped it down, he finally heard the forceful footsteps of his mother approaching. He braced himself for her arrival and stood up at attention. She walked in with cold eyes, eyes that highlighted the lack of expression on her face. Though he lacked red magic, Typhos’ gut told him the blank look hid an immense amount of pain at his actions.
“Mom…” Typhos said. Aida said nothing, though her eyes urged him to continue. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what I did. I… I should not have lied.”
She cleared her throat and gulped before speaking.
“You completely embarrassed the Kaos family name up there. You know how much the council means to me and how much it meant to your father. It is not something to be manipulated and bent to your will. It is something to be respected. Instead, you mocked it with your ambition. This reflects poorly on you and me, and I am humiliated by your actions.”
Are we getting a second round of make Typhos feel like an utter idiot? Is this really necessary?
“Mom, I said I’m sorry, I… I don’t know.”
“And while I appreciate that, son, it doesn’t yet make up for the fact that I had to deal with some serious criticism from the council as a result. Criticism which stung and was disturbingly true. It leaves me wondering if you really want this council for the right reason.”
Typhos bit his lip and grimaced. She’s right. I don’t care about the Kastori race. It just sounds nice in my head.
Face it, you’re just a greedy Kastori seeking to reach the upper boundaries of your power. You’re not special. You’re like every other overly ambitious Kastori we have to reign in here. You’re no savior. You’re just a delusional boy.
“Mom…”
“I… Typhos, I just need some space right now,” she said, leaving Typhos feeling marginalized again. “Your actions today have left me wondering if I am handling you correctly after what happened to your father, and I need to… I just need to be on my own, OK?”
Mom…
You’re leaving me?
“OK,” Typhos said, too stunned to respond in any other fashion.
“I’ll be back,” his mother said in an unconvincing tone.
She quickly walked outside, the sound of her footsteps diminishing as rapidly as Typhos’ self-confidence. Wish I had magic right now so I could at least try and sense what’s going on in her head.
Crushed, Typhos sat on his bed, his arms folded across his knees. Tears fell from his eyes, but he couldn’t even exert the energy to cry them. Gravity played a greater role in the descent of his tears than his eyes did.
He swore not to follow his mother, but Typhos knew he needed to get out of the tent. He meandered toward his favorite hill. He passed by Pagus’ tent and froze.
He could hear his mother inside.
He didn’t care if he got caught. He needed to know why her so-called “need to be on my own” involved talking to his best friend’s father. He crouched near the right side of the tent just as she finished saying, “… said I don’t have control of Typhos, and it’s my fault, and I hate to say it, but it feels true.”
No one has control of me. I’m my own man. I have to be with Dad gone. I shouldn’t be controlled.
“Am I doing something wrong? I try and love him when I can, and I don’t hate him, but—”
“Ai
da,” Garron said in a comforting voice. “Relax. The boy is going through a tough time. You are going through a tough time. You have different ways of coping with Adanus’ death. We know that Typhos loves you and loves the idea of being on the council—to a certain extent, this was inevitable.”
“I know, Garron, I know, but I didn’t raise a liar. I… I…”
She sighed loudly. Is that what she thinks of me? That I’m a liar, someone who just pathologically bends the truth to get what he wants?
That’s your fault for seeing that, Mom. You know I’m not a liar. One mistake doesn’t make me a liar.
Right?
“Don’t worry about it,” Garron said. “Pagus has lied to me before. When it happens, I discipline him, he learns, and he grows. The boy’s going to make mistakes, Aida.”
“But there’s a difference between making a mistake and knowingly lying to the councilors to try and get his way,” she said, her voice burdened with too much grief and sadness. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m pushing him too much to be like his father.”
I will never be like my father. No way. Never. I will never be like him.
“Let the boy be his own man. As long as you love him and nurture him, he’ll be fine.”
“That’s what I thought I was doing before.”
Only for about an hour a night.
“I thought I was supporting him and his goals, but… I just worry that I’m going to fail with him—if I haven’t failed with him already—and that everyone who says a boy of that power is dangerous will turn out to be right.”
Wow. Maybe…
Maybe I have failed.
If my Mom feels this way…
“Don’t worry about them,” Garron said. “But Aida, I do think you need to take a break. Leave Anatolus. Go to Monda or somewhere else quiet.”
“But Typhos…”
“Don’t worry, he’s growing into a man, and I will watch him.”
I… at least she still cares about me.
But no. There’s no way she can go. No way. I’m not about to be on my own yet with neither parent around.
“You need the time away, Aida. You are too caught up in everything that’s happened here. Don’t think about your duties as chief. Don’t even think about your duty as a Kastori. Just go… live.”
“You think so?” she said with far more eagerness than Typhos had hoped for. She wants off. She really needed that, huh.
Guess I’m not first in her book after all. She just wanted the comfort of looking that way.
And for someone who always talked about how Kastori should remain on Anatolus…
“I know so. You still haven’t been well, and today is only going to make that worse. You’re under a lot of stress and have never really had the chance to recover from Adanus’ death. Go, Aida. Go for a week. We’ll delay all critical decisions in that time until you return and will only discuss simple matters. There’s nothing pressing, anyways. Typhos’ inclusion was the only thing we voted on today.”
Then what are they possibly working on that could require my mother’s attention so much?!? Why do they have her working all the time so late??
“I… he’s suffering, Garron,” his mother said, which calmed some of the bubbling anger in Typhos. “If you think I’m under stress, well, he’s… he should come.”
“No,” Garron said, and the anger boiled back up. “No. You need to get away from everything that reminds you of your husband’s death, even him. Those first couple of days, while you are gone, are going to be terrible for you. But you’ll get better in time. I promise.”
Aida sighed, exhaustion evident even on the other side of the tent.
“If it helps, this will benefit Typhos as well. Both of you, I think, need time away from the other.”
No. No. No!
I don’t! I don’t. I don’t need time away from her. I need more time with her. Garron, you stupid…
“I’ll take it into consideration,” his mother said. “If I do go, I’m going to Monda. The humans there will be easy to blend in with.”
“By take it into consideration, I hope you mean that you will go. You shouldn’t leave much choice in the matter for yourself, Aida.”
“I know,” she said. “I just need to talk to Typhos about it. After what happened today, he’ll probably think I’m trying to avoid him.”
There’s no probably in that, Mom. And now that you’re going to Monda, I know it without any doubt.
“Maybe he will, but your current, primary responsibility is to get well, Aida. I will take care of him. I will explain to him what is going on. And when you come back, you can attend to him and your chief duties in a higher capacity than you can now. It’s for the best not just for you, but for your son and all of us.”
I’ve heard enough of this nonsense. Mom, you and I are gonna have quite the talk when you get back to the tent. “Be on my own,” “vacation,” all that nonsense.
Typhos stood up and walked back to his tent, not caring if his mother or Garron realized he had heard their conversation. He laid on his bed and heard the footsteps of his mother coming seconds later. Good, let’s talk.
She opened the flap, went straight to her bed, and curled up to sleep.
Great.
My mom’s now becoming as deflective as my father.
I’m not letting her escape without saying everything she needs to.
22
Typhos woke up just from the sound of his mother rising out of her bed. He immediately sat up and stood in front of her, anger in his eyes.
“Typhos…” Aida said.
Her voice softened him as he dropped the furious expression on his face.
“I spoke to Garron last night.”
Do I—
Yeah, screw it, she probably knows.
“I know,” Typhos said, his voice weaker and sadder than he had intended.
He braced himself for another lecture, but his admission didn’t even draw an immediate reaction from his mother. She remained unchanged and invited Typhos to sit next to her. He grimaced but accepted the invite, slowly seating himself. He placed his arms between his legs and clasped his hands, his head bowed.
“This is your chance to ask me anything you want, Typhos. I’m sorry, but I truly believe Garron is right. I promise to come back a happier, better Mom and a better chief. This really is the best thing in the long run.”
At least she’s not beating around the bush here. Decent first step.
“OK,” Typhos said, and he took a deep breath in. “How long will you be gone?”
I’d better get a clear answer to this, too.
“One week, at the most,” she said. “I have no intention of staying longer. I might even come back sooner, depending on how I feel. Well, at a minimum, three days. I promised Garron that. So anywhere between three and seven days.”
Say ten days just in case she’s trying to make me feel good and has a longer time frame in mind. Ten days… be like she died during that time. But just ten days instead of a lifetime. I can survive.
“And you’ll come back after those ten… that week?”
“Yes, without a doubt, I promise.”
I don’t know. But it’s more believable than anything Dad ever said.
“So I’ll be on my own during that time?”
“Garron will watch you to make sure you don’t get yourself into too much trouble,” she said without any humor. “He’s going to watch from afar, though. He’s not going to check in with you unless you want it, or you do something to mandate him watching closely.”
“Such as?”
“You know the answer to that,” she said sternly, a statement Typhos could not disagree with. “Treat this as a great opportunity, Typhos. You lost the trust of a lot of people with your actions. This is a chance to earn it back while I’m gone. They probably won’t ask you to do anything, but if Garron asks a favor of you, or if anyone does, and you do it well… word does spread, Typhos. Do your job, and you will m
ake things easier for everyone, including yourself. You’ll have a better chance of getting what you want.”
Hard to be much more overt than that. Typhos nodded in understanding.
His mother let out a long, exhausted sigh and gently patted her son on the knee. He looked up and saw eyes that finally expressed warmth.
“I will miss you, Typhos, but this will be good for all of us. I know you don’t like it, and I don’t blame you. But like I said, don’t look at this as a burden to carry. Look at it as an opportunity.”
“I understand,” Typhos said, though he turned away when he said that. “When do you leave?”
The pause in the conversation gave Typhos the answer that she confirmed seconds later.
“As soon as we finish talking,” she said.
Well, that’s abrupt. But… guess it’s best to just get it done with.
“Do you have anything else you want to ask me?”
He shook his head. Even if I could think of something, wouldn’t matter. You should just go.
Aida cooed and hugged Typhos tightly. She kissed him on the cheek, and though he embraced her back, he did so only to ensure she didn’t feel rejected. Just go. Don’t drag it out.
“Love you, Typhos. I’ll be back soon.”
She walked out of the tent, stopping just a few feet outside. Typhos looked down, shaking his head in frustration. Opportunity. Whatever. I don’t even really want it anymore. I just want to know that she’s definitely coming back. I don’t need to have a second parent disappear on me like this.
At least I’m not gonna be watched like aviant prey.
Feeling like staying in the tent would only enhance his sadness, Typhos walked outside and immediately saw Garron approaching. Maybe I take back that last bit.
“I know you eavesdropped on us last night,” Garron said. “I had a feeling you were. But in any case, I just want to let you know if you need anything at all, and I mean anything, I—”
“Appreciate it, Garron,” Typhos said, stopping the black magic councilor. “I should be good, though.”
“OK, then. Pagus was asking about you recently. Maybe you should go see him.”
“Was just on my way,” Typhos said, adding a warm smile to diffuse the chill.
Kastori Tribulations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 3) Page 11