Kastori Revelations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 1) (24 page)

Celeste suddenly cried out in joy, and Cyrus laughed giddily behind her. The two ran straight ahead, about thirty feet, to a giant pond. Torches around the cave made the lighting easy to see how transparent this water was and how easily they could see their reflections. Up above, five narrow tunnels fed water into the pond, two of them providing a stream at that moment.

“We found it! We found it! Oh my God, we’re going to be all right!”

Celeste hugged Cyrus tightly. Crystil walked over at a guarded pace, wanting to withhold her excitement until she could taste the liquid. The bursting joy from the two siblings brought an unrestrained smile to Crystil as she lowered her gun and took one hand off.

“Come taste it! It’s fine,” Celeste said, running over to Crystil to hug her. “It’s OK. We did it! We actually did it.”

“OK, let me try it,” Crystil said, deciding not to verbalize her caution.

She squatted down as she looked down at the water. She could see rocks of different colors at the bottom. She stuck her finger in it, and the water felt cool to the touch. She cupped both hands down and brought the water to her nose. She sniffed it. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and swallowed.

It tasted like the water she drank on Monda. Natural, chilling, and refreshing.

She stood up, turned around, and embraced both Cyrus and Celeste in a tight bear hug. She released the rigid commander from her body and allowed friendship to take over as she giddily laughed with the other two.

“It sure tastes great!” Crystil said. “It tastes like a chance for a longer life.”

She could not completely quell her doubts as she pulled out a plastic container, smaller than the one she’d taken trip to the ocean.

“But we still need to make absolutely certain that this doesn’t have anything that could harm us. I’m with you guys—I think this will be fine. But. We have to make sure.”

“Buzzkill!” Cyrus said, laughing, and even Crystil could laugh with him.

“Sorry,” Crystil said. “But we gotta do it. I won’t stop you from drinking some more, though.”

And now we only have to figure out how to find food and build some shelter. Food part’s easy. Shelter…

We’ll worry about it later. Celebrate a victory like this. Build some good memories to flash back to.

The two wasted no time as they drank as much water as they could. Crystil watched the two Orthrans gulp water like lupi in the desert sun, drinking for so long and so much Crystil imagined they would get sick on the return trip.

More importantly, Crystil wanted to know who had designed the tunnels. Was it an old civilization, wiped out by the great sky monster? It seemed possible, though the presence of the lupi and the door magically opening seemed to discredit such a notion. Could it be a different species, spying on them, waiting to hunt them down? Wouldn’t they have done that by now? A predator could toy with its prey for only so long before it got bored or hungry.

But when the two finished, and Cyrus let out a loud belch, not even the crudeness of his behavior could get in the way of her happiness. They would have to find a way to celebrate when they got back to the ship, she thought. Perhaps they could take a virtual reality vacation to some familiar place. Would it—

The door slammed shut behind her. Crystil immediately hoisted her gun to her shoulder. She swiveled her rifle around the room, looking for anything that moved.

“Crystil?” Celeste said, the nervousness in her voice palpable.

“Stay close,” she said, and the two siblings assumed their positions from their foray with the lupi.

Crystil saw something she could scarcely believe. One of the walls faded, becoming more and more translucent until it vanished completely. From there, she could see several tents, some black, some white, some red, and one gold. And just where the wall had been, a single figure in dark red robes stood.

“No,” Crystil said. “No. No. No!”

The figure held up a hand, and just as Crystil yanked the trigger, she became paralyzed. Crystil felt like someone had an impossibly tight grip on her entire body. She could speak, blink, breathe, and snort but otherwise had no control over her body.

“Magicologist,” she said. “Run. Go!”

But, ever the wanna-be hero, Cyrus ran in front of her, his flamethrower firing. The hooded figure threw up its other hand. Cyrus was paralyzed as well, his flamethrower burning harmlessly about five feet in front of the magicologist until it ran out of fuel. Even then, Cyrus could not move his finger off the trigger.

“Celeste, go,” Crystil said.

The magicologist put its hands down, but the paralyzing effect did not go away. The magicologist approached. To Crystil’s chagrin, Celeste walked forward as well, and the two of them stopped just in front of the other. With the magicologist that much closer, Crystil saw a white mask where the eyes should be, and a blank slate everywhere else. The image was haunting, traumatic, and a terrible reminder of the faceless and featureless masks the magicologists wore. It was one thing to kill a human and look into its eyes, knowing you had killed an honorable enemy.

It was another fighting a being with no expression and no soul, even if just beneath that mask Crystil knew a being resided. It felt like fighting an abstract enemy.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Celeste said. “We’re sorry. We just wanted some water and—”

The magicologist put its hand up, but to Crystil’s surprise, it was not to cast a spell but to signal silence.

“Your commander does not think like you,” the magicologist said in a garbled female voice. “She wants to kill me. She wants to kill all of the Kastori.”

“I will make sure she doesn’t,” Celeste said in a tone that left no doubt in the magicologist’s or Crystil’s mind. “What do you want?”

The magicologist—
Kastori? Huh?—
looked Celeste up and down, cautiously, without rush.

“We’ve been watching you for some time now, Celeste,” she said, saying her name with a haunting tone. “We have wondered when you and your friends would find us. And, more importantly, we wondered how our lupi would react to your presence. You will come with us now and finally bring us our planet back.”

“What!” Crystil exclaimed, and the magicologist slowly looked her way.

Even with nothing more than the blank white mask, Crystil felt like she was looking at the face of evil. She had too many memories of magicologists causing her friends to spontaneously combust, bringing down airships with the power of lightning, and choking the life out of survivors to believe this was anything but evil.

Suddenly, Crystil couldn’t even talk. Her mouth remained open, and she could breath but could not do anything else.

“Your commander should learn when she’s at a disadvantage,” the magicologist said. “You will come with us. You can either come voluntarily, or I can force you to come.”

“Amira!” an older woman’s voice from the far distance called.

The magicologist turned her head, and turned back to Celeste.

“We will come, just don’t hurt us,” Celeste said.

The magicologist nodded, waved her hands, and Crystil suddenly felt lost consciousness, her last thought wondering if they had just been captured for their execution.

40

“You said you wouldn’t hurt them!” Celeste cried as she watched Crystil and Cyrus collapse to the ground.

“They are unhurt,” the hooded magicologist, whom Celeste assumed was Amira, said. “We will move them to a tent where they will wake up without their weapons. I sensed disturbing hostility in them and will not tolerate any further danger to the Kastori.”

Celeste pursed her lips as questions danced in their head.
Are these actual magicologists, or just a coincidentally similar group? Why Kastori? What did Amira mean by further damage? Can they be trusted?

Just call them Kastori. Empathize.

“Show me where they will be taken,” Celeste said.

Amira turned and held up two fingers. From seemingly nowhere, two similar figures wearing white robes, one with a red mask and one with a black mask, approached Cyrus and Celeste and picked them up.

“Come,” Amira said, and Celeste did as they all walked to a small white tent next to the furthest one back, the golden one.

Inside the tent, the two white-robed Kastori gently laid Cyrus and Crystil on the ground, held their hands up for about three seconds, and nodded to Amira. Amira held up both hands, lifting Crystil’s machine gun and Cyrus’ flamethrower. With a tightening of both her hands, the weapons crumpled, reduced to nothing but useless scraps of plastic and metal.

“Leave us,” Amira said to the other Kastori. “This is my discussion now.”

The white-robed Kastori left, but not before appearing to give Amira a long look. When they left, Amira turned her attention to Celeste. Even through the mask, Celeste felt hateful eyes gazing upon her.

“Why have you come here?”

Celeste gulped. She felt she had no leverage and no position to do anything but the truth. But she also sensed that Amira carried a facade—a tough act, as it were, that betrayed nerves, inexperience, or something else. Celeste wanted information too, and that started with the Kastori in front of her.

“I’ll answer that when I know whom I’m speaking to.”

Celeste sensed the annoyance in Amira, but the Kastori quickly reached up with one hand and removed the white eyepiece while bowing her head. She removed the top of her robes. She had striking orange hair that, now unfurled, reached below her shoulders, and green eyes that showed a hardened exterior. Unlike Crystil, who had some good in her past, Celeste sensed an utterly dark past in the young girl, who looked younger than her.

“I am Amira. I am one of the councilors of this refuge, the last known outpost of the Kastori on Anatolus. Now, answer my question. Why did you come here?”

Celeste still felt unease but knew she had to live up to her end of the bargain.

“Our planet was ravaged by war, between us and the magicologists. They dressed like you, so we assumed…”

She didn’t finish her statement, seeing hatred in the eyes of Amira.

“The war started out small, but it got deadly enough that my Dad, the emperor, sent about fifty ships out to space. Only ours made it, and only three of us survived among the original ten crew members. We were sent here to try and continue humanity in a place without war, without trouble.”

Amira sneered at Celeste, and though the younger Orthran tried to remain tall, the young girl’s power frightened her.

“Without war? Without trouble? Have you seen Calypsius? You are blind if you have not.”

“You mean the monster in the sky?”

“What else would I mean? The monster that has ravaged our planet for years now, the one that has sent us underground and continues to hunt for us, even as we burrow deeper.”

Celeste felt panic.

“Oh, you thought you found a safe spot on this planet? Think again. We have tried everything, but Calypsius is a merciless beast. Ever since it was created, it has brought about the annihilation of nearly all Kastori. I am a councilor because everyone else who has had this role was killed by Calypsius. It is only toying with you if it has not yet killed you.”

Enough.

“Like you toy with us?” Celeste said. “I am sorry that the monster has destroyed your race. But we did not know about it when we arrived. If we did, we wouldn’t have come to your planet. We would’ve gone somewhere else. But…”

Celeste sighed.

“If we had a way of defeating it, we could help, but—”

“Which you may,” Amira interrupted. “At least, that’s what Erda thinks.”

“Erda?”

“Yes. She has watched all of you from afar with great interest. You have the capability with your ship and your technology, combined with our magic, to bring the great beast down and allow us to reclaim our home. I…”

It was the first time Amira hesitated.

“I will bring you to her. You will discuss with her ways to bring Calypsius down.”

“Woah, wait,” Celeste said, putting her hands up, raising her voice over Amira. “I, too, would like to destroy Calypsius. And I want you guys to be safe. But if we’re helping you, we want some help back too.”

“That’s for you to negotiate,” Amira said spitefully.

Celeste had never felt so annoyed by anyone.
Is this how we were to the magicologists—Kastori—on Monda? No wonder there was war.
But she pushed aside her thoughts and turned to her brother and commander.

“I understand and will do so, Amira. But please awaken my friends.”

“Very well, but you will be taken immediately to Erda then.”

Amira put her robe and mask back on, covering her face and hiding the long, beautiful hair. Celeste again felt a cold chill looking at the Kastori. Amira raised both of her hands, and, seconds later, Crystil and Cyrus groggily woke up. Celeste went between them, her hands on both of them, alternating attention between both of them.

“My gun,” Crystil said, and she stared furiously at the still-robed Amira. “You.”