Kastori Devastations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 2)

by Stephen Allan

  The sight of Erda made his hand tighten. He remembered the last time the two of them had seen each other, and how close he had come to finishing her, but how he was still too new and too afraid to kill. He regretted it the minute he left their encounter on Mount Ardor—he had her pinned, and one slice of the sword would have completed the job.

  Decades later and I’m still upset.

  But this is the chance at redemption.

  The guardians.

  He thought that he would need help—he had no qualms about killing all the Kastori there, save for the girl and Erda, but his job would prove significantly easier with the aid of his guardians.

  All guardians, come to me. Prepare to take Anatolus.

  And prepare to take only two survivors. Destroy the rest.

  12

  “I’ll ask you again. What did you know about Mykos?!”

  Gaius, clad in his black robes with red stripes, held his shaking hand out as he tried to delve into the mind of the two leaders of the human outpost, Petrus and Lance. Diving into the humans’ minds had produced no immediate results, but Gaius knew he could not read some thoughts immediately—he had to prod them out with an extreme stimulus.

  Preferably torture.

  Especially when another guardian stood two feet to his right and Typhos watched from afar.

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Lance said with a sneer before screaming. Gaius glanced at Carticus, who had cast a spell to break the human’s hand. Gaius said nothing but reminded Carticus telepathically “this is my interrogation.”

  “You don’t know who Mykos is,” Gaius deadpanned. “Perhaps I can help both of you. A former soldier of the empire, one of the best trained. He came from this outpost, you know. He left on a mission to kill Lord Typhos.”

  “I don’t know anything!” Petrus yelled out between gasps, his windpipe compressed but not closed off.

  “Is that so?” Gaius said with a sneer. “Perhaps I can jar it out of you!”

  He threw the two men against the wall with his magic. The sound of bodies smacking wood filled the ears of Gaius, who smiled deviously as he brought them both to him, their feet off the ground.

  “I like keeping you both here,” Gaius said. “Does the pain remind you of anything yet?”

  Neither man spoke. Lance tried to spit at Gaius, but Gaius saw it coming and sealed his mouth shut.

  “Manners, Lance,” he said mockingly before turning to Carticus. “Talk to the others here. The traitor among us could not possibly have wiped everyone’s mind.”

  “And you think that you will get it out of these two… Gaius?”

  He suspects me as the traitor. He wanted to call me a traitor but didn’t have the guts to say it. I should kill him for… no, be gentle. Typhos will get to it eventually.

  “I have mind reading powers that you can only hope to achieve in three lifetimes, Carti,” he said, using the nickname to mock the other red magic guardian. “I have read the past of those who have erased such memories and have even seen the future in some cases. These two lead this division of humans, we both know that. No human has ever attacked without the support of their leaders—it’s in their blood to obey and not act out of line. If they know, I will find it. If others know, you will go and find it.”

  Carticus stared down Gaius, and to Gaius’ surprise, Carticus began trying to read his mind.

  “Go ahead,” he said telepathically, and he opened his mind.

  Carticus dived deep, looking into the previous month of action from Gaius. But just as the powerful red magic guardian knew, Carticus found nothing.

  “Instead of doubting my loyalty to Lord Typhos, perhaps you can prove yours by interrogating the others here.”

  Carticus snorted and left silently. Gaius waited until he sensed the guardian had gone into another building. He cast a quick spell on his current room, preventing magic from all but one person from penetrating his shell. He looked back at the two humans, smiled, and dropped them to the ground.

  “I’m so stupid,” he said. “I knew sending a human to try and assassinate Typhos would end poorly for us, but I did not think that it would end that poorly. I should have sent a few more of you as distractions.”

  He looked back at the two men, slowly rising. Lance held his broken hand tightly while Petrus rubbed his head.

  “You’ll need that later,” Gaius said as he grabbed Lance’s hand and applied a healing spell.

  “Thanks,” Lance mumbled.

  “It’s practical, not altruistic,” Gaius said. “Typhos doesn’t suspect me as the traitor yet, but he will naturally get closer as time passes. The more of you I have prepared, the better.”

  Gaius sighed. It’s really just not going to work, probably. A band of humans and a single guardian against a Kastori powerful enough to control the weather. These guys had better be sure about the buried weapons and abandoned facility. I’ll kill them out of frustration myself if it turns out they lied.

  “This Mykos,” Petrus said. “Tell us about him.”

  “Mykos?” Gaius said, looking confused at the two of them. He started laughing, remembering he had truly erased the memories of Mykos from their minds.

  “He was one of the finest soldiers in the empire before the fall. He worked in this field and always retained his edge and his skills in the years that passed. Typhos became blind with anger recently over the death of his creation on our home planet, and I thought the time was right. I instilled in him the insatiable instinct to kill Typhos and erased his conscious memories of our discussion. But the instinct and subconscious knowledge remained.”

  “And how did his mission go?” Lance asked.

  “In a hundred different directions,” Gaius deadpanned. Both humans had seen the power of Typhos enough to not ask for clarification.

  “Mykos… was he a good man?” Petrus asked.

  “What does it matter,” Gaius said. “I am here to help you overthrow Typhos in return for safe living. I am not here to discuss your feelings and friendships.”

  Petrus walked up to Gaius and stared straight at him. Gaius felt no fear, and in fact admiration for the man, who never forgot his sense of self-respect.

  “Those feelings and friendships are what bonds us together in battle and encourages us to push further, Gaius. They are not unimportant.”

  Only to humans. Only to humans are such things important. If only they could communicate telepathically…

  You need them, Gaius. If they have the weapons to ambush the temple and make it easier for you to assassinate Typhos, you need them. Indulge. Admire their little feelings. Plus, it’ll make them more likely to support you.

  “I apologize,” Gaius said with an air of sincerity. “Kastori communicate with our minds and do not have to rely on trust and such matters. I should appreciate the way you do things, and I promise to do so.”

  Gaius cleared his throat as he saw the waiting eyes of Petrus.

  “To answer your question, yes, Mykos was a good man. Fiercely loyal to the empire and willing to embrace martyrdom for its return.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Petrus murmured.

  “I will try and do better, but we must plan our attack. Typhos is not in a clear state, and an ambush may overwhelm him. I believe that the time is now to bring together perhaps a dozen men from this field, grab your weapons, and attack Typhos.”

  “Why not more?” Lance snarled. “The battles we won in the war came from sheer force.”

  “And you don’t think Typhos will notice hundreds of men just walking out of a camp like this?”

  Gaius dared the humans to defy him with his eyes. Neither did. So odd, humans. They don’t think rationally half the time, and yet here I am, being rational about their irrationality to defeat Typhos.

  “I am counting on you to be truthful about the warehouse and the weapons. My people never attacked such a place, for we cannot sense buildings and weapons and only sought out the places with humans.”

  �
��Your one weakness,” Petrus said with a warm smile.

  “Don’t get confident. It would only take one wandering Kastori to stumble upon the place, recognize the weap—”

  Gaius froze when he heard the voice in his head.

  “All guardians, come to me. Prepare to take Anatolus. And prepare to take only two survivors. Destroy the rest.”

  Immediately, Gaius grabbed the two humans in the air. His facial expression displayed sorrow and sympathy for the two humans, but they knew the terms of his help. Such violent interrogations and tortures could come at any moment.

  “If you do not know who Mykos is,” Gaius shouted. “Then you will know death!”

  He slammed the humans against the wall numerous times as he felt the presence of Typhos in his head. He brought Petrus before him and sneered.

  “All it takes to save your life is the truth about Mykos,” he said.

  “Never,” Petrus said, looking genuinely angry.

  Gaius yelled out in anger as he threw the two humans against the wall, but this time, they lost consciousness, dropping to the ground. Typhos left his mind, and Gaius cast two quick spells to heal any internal damage they suffered. He cast one more spell—a subliminal spell.

  “Prepare to attack Typhos in the next week,” he thought as he cast the spell.

  He walked outside just in time to see Carticus walking toward the temple, a burning building and screaming voices behind him.

  13

  Petrus’ eyes fluttered open. The floor laid in front of him, and his mouth pressed down to the ground. He rolled over and took a few quick breaths, and was surprised his head didn’t ache. He instead felt a sense of looming urgency, but could not pinpoint for what.

  He slowly stood and dusted himself off. He smelled fire and smoke, but such a scent had become so common and pervasive on Monda he thought nothing of it. He looked down at Lance, who was breathing but still unconscious. He gently shook him, knowing they had to get out to the fields quickly. Otherwise, more magicologists would come and inflict punishment they would not heal from.

  Lance groaned softly, then loudly, and sat up in a flash and cursed. Petrus held his shoulders tightly until he knew Lance wouldn’t bring unwanted attention.

  “Wow, Gaius is getting worse with his magic,” Lance said as Petrus offered his hand and lifted him up.

  “You know it’s necessary with him,” Petrus said. “The last thing we need is Typhos to attack us the way he did Mykos and the emperor. Take the pain and torture now so that we can live and see the rise of the humans later.”

  “Not just the humans. Emperor Orthran’s empire.”

  It doesn’t matter. Any humans. Or just someone who will let us live.

  “Someday. If we can find someone who fits that bloodline,” Petrus said, bowing his head. “But honestly, I’d take Gaius right now.”

  “Are you insane?” Lance shouted. Petrus quieted him and peeked out the door. He didn’t see any magicologists coming, and slowly closed the door. Before he spoke, he put a finger to his lips.

  “Gaius wants power, but that doesn’t mean he’ll kill us in the process.”

  “What’s to stop him from doing it after he gets it?”

  Petrus sighed, knowing they’d had this conversation multiple times.

  “Nothing,” he said, hoping that would end the discussion.

  “Still a magicologist, just the same as Typhos, Petrus. The only person who should be ruling is Emperor Orthran, but…”

  Not all Kastori deserve the slur we give them.

  Lance’s voice trailed off. Both witnessed the day that Typhos raised his sword over the emperor, and neither one had much interest in reminiscing what happened after.

  “If we can’t have him, then we have a human, no matter what,” Lance said.

  “No matter what?” Petrus said, regretting the statement immediately.

  The former great soldier sighed as he lost himself in thought. Petrus plotted their next steps just as Lance answered his question.

  “It’s funny, we talk about humans and the Orthranian empire, but if Cyrus and Celeste showed up, I don’t know how I’d feel.”

  “Oh?” Petrus said, a sick feeling in his stomach. Who wouldn’t support their return? “Why?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? They got to escape with Commander Bradford to some distant land and live out their lives away from the danger of Typhos. That doesn’t seem very fair. I wish I were that privileged.”

  “Don’t you think they feel guilty about it?”

  Lance went mute as Petrus took a couple of steps back. We need those two back, if such a thing could happen. They always bickered, but it always pushed them to be better. We’d be so much better off with those two here.

  And Crystil, too.

  “Maybe,” Lance finally said.

  He said nothing more.

  “If nothing else, having Crystil here would make things much easier,” Petrus said to fill the silence. “I don’t think anyone else in the army scored as many victories as she did.”

  “Hah,” Lance said, but he did not seem dismissive so much as wistful. “Crystil Bradford. Youngest there ever was, but man, I’d follow her into a swamp full of nakar if she commanded it. I never went into battle thinking we’d lose with her guidance.”

  “Indeed, she fought as much as any soldier, rare for a general.”

  “True. Very true.”

  Lance’s voice trailed off, and Petrus sensed equally ill feelings toward the former bodyguard of the emperor.

  “But she left too. She always told us never to leave a man behind, and yet she was on the ship with the emperor’s kids. That’s hard for me to look past, Petrus. It’s gotta be hard for you too.”

  “It is,” Petrus lied. Be practical, Lance. If she ever came back, we would all file rank behind her and do whatever she says. She would know how to handle the magicologists better than anyone. “But in the end, I’d still follow her.”

  Lance sighed and gave a weak smile as he cleared his throat.

  “I would too. But as soon as the battle was over…”

  Petrus knew he couldn’t criticize her. Lance had too much respect for Crystil to say anything more.

  “It’s a moot point anyways, Petrus. I think we need to strike at Typhos soon. He’ll be distracted, and we can ambush, at worst, the guardians and leave him by himself.”

  “Do you know where the old factories are?”

  “Yeah. There’s one about five miles south of here. I don’t know what state it’s in, but the weapons wouldn’t be on the main floor of the warehouse. They’d be buried somewhere deeper. I say we wait a few days in case Gaius has anything, get three more people, and the five of us plan an ambush of the palace.”

  Petrus loved the idea and gave his nodding approval.

  “One step closer to better lives,” Petrus said.

  “Or an eternal slumber,” Lance said.

  14

  The fear which widened Erda’s eyes seemed greater than anything Celeste had ever sensed from the chief of the Kastori. She was calm against Calypsius, and never that emotionally high or low since. But now… she’s mortified.

  “Are you sure, Celeste?” Erda asked, her voice shaky.

  “I’m positive, Erda. He is coming.”

  “Celeste, I need you to be sure that this is the case. We have no room for error.”

  She wants to believe it’s not true. Anything to avoid having to face this.

  “I promise you, Erda. I promise. We all need to prepare to fight or run somewhere safe. Typhos is definitely coming.”

  Erda grimaced and sighed as she folded her hands. Celeste wondered if she would have to go and order the Kastori herself to prepare. She’d never seen Erda this emotionally paralyzed.

  “Celeste,” she said, very firmly but also very coldly. “I need you to tell me exactly what you saw. Tell me everything you saw.”

  Celeste swore Erda choked on her next word.

  “Everything.”

&nbs
p; What… what’s going on? What happened? Does she feel that bad about not noticing Typhos before?

  “OK,” Celeste said after a quick gulp, and she recounted everything up to the army of magicologists lining up in the temple gardens.

  “He doesn’t have that kind of an army,” Erda said, which to Celeste should’ve sounded hopeful but instead seemed resigned. “He doesn’t need one. If we don’t prepare, he could come here himself and kill everyone.”

  Get ready, Celeste. Get Cyrus ready. Get Crystil to safety. Erda can’t do anything here.

  “That’s not everything, though.”

  Celeste bit her lip, and Erda’s folding arms told Celeste she had to speak now. She could not hide this truth.

  “He ended it with something that seemed from the future, Erda. His sword was inches from your throat, at the top of Mount Ardor. Can he do that? Can a Kastori see into the future?”

  Erda seemed too disturbed to answer, and for many seconds, Celeste just silently waited. She glanced at Cyrus and Crystil, who were approaching from the far side of the outpost. She held out her hand to signal for them to wait, and they sat by the water ditch.

  “I have never heard of anything quite like that,” Erda said. “Unfortunately, that does not mean it is impossible. And if it was, indeed, a vision of the future, then we are in dreadful shape. Typhos’ greatest weakness was always his red magic, and if he has the capability to surpass all known red magic…”

  She let her voice trail off. Then we can’t fight. We can only flee until we get tired of running or they catch us.

  “I always knew this day might come. The day when he would reach the pinnacle of his powers. He left for Monda at a young age, barely an adult, but he is now approaching the age when his father peaked. I think Typhos would love nothing more than to displace his parents as the most powerful Kastori that ever lived.”

  Celeste sighed but found that interesting. So he’s not just psychotic. Typhos has emotional weak points too. He could be… could he be persuaded?

  “We cannot win this battle without rallying everyone.”

  Celeste looked back at the town, and though Cyrus and Crystil watched intently, no one else seemed aware of the imminent danger. People laughed. The sounds of eating, kissing and conversation filled their ears. No one cared for anything other than the present.