Kastori Devastations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 2) (13 page)

“Oh. She hasn’t told you. Of course she hasn’t. She doesn’t tell the whole truth to anyone.”

“Erda?”

But the chief was coughing and out of breath. Disgusted, Typhos turned back to his guardians as he muttered, “Worthless.”

“Take them both back to Monda. Make sure the girl is fed and do not harm her. As for her,” he said, motioning to Erda, not even looking at her. “Place her in the darkest prison we have. Do whatever you want to her. Just keep her alive. She is mine to kill.”

“My Lord, we—”

But before the red-striped magicologist finished, he cried out as something knocked him to the ground. Celeste suddenly felt free, but Typhos whirled around and paralyzed her with frightening force. Her eyes lifted to see Pagus on his knees, casting a strong-enough spell to break the concentration of the red-striped magicologist. Typhos brought the sword out of his hand, gave it to the gray-striped magicologist, and that magicologist killed Pagus with a swift chop to the neck. Celeste felt sick as she closed her eyes, wishing she was anywhere else.

“My Lord, Erda has disappeared! Do you want—”

“No!” Typhos yelled with disturbing force. “Let her suffer here. She has no allies left. She will die alone.”

“There’s still the girl’s brother and the human. My Lord?”

Typhos took the sword back from the magicologist and sheathed it away. Typhos went over to Celeste and crouched in front of her without saying a word. He stared at her for quite some time, as if figuring out how she might react.

“Let them stay here,” Typhos said.

“My Lord?”

“I’ll give them a parting gift before we go.”

Typhos stood and opened a warp to the old imperial palace, and looked at his men. The four of them quickly walked through the portal, leaving Typhos and the young girl in front of her.

“Come,” he said, offering his hand. “I will take good care of you.”

Celeste refused it, even though she had regained control of her body.

“You are coming with me regardless of whether you accept my offer or not,” Typhos warned. “I can make your time with me painless, or I can make it on par with what we would have done to Erda. The choice is yours.”

Still, Celeste refused. She thought of Crystil, and how she might act in such a spot like this.
Never give in to the enemy.

With a disgusted sigh, Typhos grabbed Celeste by the neck and lifted her up with great physical strength. He dragged her to the edge of the portal and held her just inches from its entrance. He placed his hand up to the sky, and Celeste’s eyes widened as a meteor came into view.

“Erda has fooled you with a false story, child,” he said. “She and the other Kastori here are nothing more than power-hungry, manipulative, deceitful fools who couldn’t govern a single tent if they tried. But their reign has come to an end. This meteor will wipe out whatever remains of the Kastori here.”

“
Cyrus! Run!”
she communicated in all directions.

“Come,” Typhos said as he dragged Celeste across the portal seconds before the meteor collided with Anatolus.

24

Cyrus pressed against a tree, away from the crumbling Kastori town, gasping for air. His arms scraped bark, and his feet dug into the ground. To his right, Crystil followed, panting.

“You good?” he asked.

Crystil gave a thumbs up as she slowed down her breathing.
I gotta get some of that soldier’s training.

Celeste.

Where is she?

Cyrus peered around the trunk of the tree just as a sword from someone other than Typhos went through the black robes of a black man.

Pagus.

Pagus…

“Do you have access to any of your weapons?”

Crystil grimly shook her head, mouthing the word, “No.”

Cyrus cursed to himself. He crept along the forest, trying to get closer to Typhos in the hopes that he could see an opportunity.
Have to help Celeste. Have to do whatever I can.

Then he saw her.

All of the other magicologists had vanished. Only Typhos remained, offering her his hand. Behind them, a portal opened to what looked like his old home.
Don’t you dare do it, Celeste. Don’t you take his hand.

They each remained in that position for several seconds as Cyrus struggled to come to a course of action. Run in there, cast magic and get killed? Distract Typhos so Celeste could do something?
Where’s Erda? She should be helping right now!

Typhos reached down and grabbed Celeste by the neck, and Cyrus’ instinct overruled his mind. He stood up and took two steps in sprinting, opened his mouth to scream, and fell to the ground as Crystil tackled him.

“What are you doing?!?” he yelled as Crystil’s hand went over his mouth. “Stop! Let me go!”

“You’ll get yourself killed, Cyrus!”

“I don’t care! He’s gonna kill Celeste!”

“Cyrus! Get a grip! She’s fine! She won’t be if you go after her!”

Cyrus twisted violently under Crystil, who let him up but kept a firm grip on his shoulder. He got to his knees and saw Typhos looking to the sky with his arm raised.

“No!” he yelled. “No! No! No!”

I failed you, Celeste. But I won’t fail you for long. We’ll get you. I’ll run through that portal before he closes it. I’ll train with no sleep for a week. I will not let you die, sis.

His eyes rose to the sky as the emotion began to overwhelm him, but when he saw a meteor closing in, a new wave of terror hit him.

“Run!” Crystil said as she picked him up and pushed him away.

He somehow found an even higher speed as he fled the ensuing impact and the inevitable debris. It didn’t seem planet-ending to Cyrus, but it would wipe out the ship and everything else around it.
Go go go go go go go.

He didn’t turn behind once after the initial glance. Crystil outran him, but both of them sprinted with the same intent.

He broke for the depths of the forest, believing it might give him more shelter. He aimed for a dense—

A violent shockwave knocked him through the air toward a head-first collision with a tree. His hearing vanished as the sound wave caught up to him. Just before he hit the tree, he had one last thought as he accepted his death.

Celeste. Sorry.

25

Erda looked down on the rising pillar of black smoke with sadness in her heart.
Again, I ran. Again, I ran from those I loved the most.

I failed to include you, Celeste. I failed to protect the people.

You had to run, Erda. If you didn’t, Typhos would have not just killed you. He would have mauled you. You had to run if you want to make a difference.

But I’m tired of running. I’m sick of it. No more.

Next time…

I’m willing to die.

She saw a meteor appear, a creation of Typhos on course for the remains of her home. Erda tried to cast a spell to break it apart into a series of relatively harmless rocks, but Typhos had fortified the meteor.

It’s not moving fast enough, and it’s not big enough to cause too much damage. But…

Cyrus. Crystil. Make it.

Please.

She braced herself at the top of Mount Ardor and closed her eyes. The ground shook as the meteor slammed into the planet, producing a large billowing cloud of dust. A shock wave extended about a mile out, nothing compared to the damage Typhos could have done with more time to prepare.

She opened her eyes and looked down. The dirt cloud overwhelmed the black smoke. The portal had vanished, Celeste back on Monda but now in the hands of the greatest mistake Erda had ever produced.
Survive, Celeste. And I hope he shows you mercy as he did me.

She sensed for Cyrus and Crystil.

They were unconscious and unresponsive.

But alive.

26

Cyrus’ eyes darted open as the pain in the back of his head gnawed at him. Crystil hovered over him, her fingers on his neck.

“That’s one way to confirm you’re alive,” she said. She had a large cut on her arm, and bled from her forehead, but it didn’t seem serious. “You OK?”

Cyrus groaned as he sat up. His back ached, and his right shoulder throbbed in miserable agony. He wiped dust from his forehead and looked out on the plains. It seemed like all of the dirt on the planet had congregated in that area.
Marking the spot where she’s gone.

“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.