Kastori Tribulations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 3)

by Stephen Allan

  “What did you want to talk about, Typhos?”

  “My mother,” Typhos said, not wanting to waste anytime. “I’m sure you see that she is not well.”

  “My heart trembles for her. I feel pain just trying to imagine losing Lycos.”

  “Don’t,” Typhos cooed. “Death is bad enough in reality. We don’t need to recreate it any further. But yes, my mother is not well, and I am not well. But the one time that both of us are truly well is when we are both together. We are a family, a family that functions best not separated by work and school, but by being in the same place. I know, Councilor—”

  “Amelia,” she said with a friendly smile. “Just Amelia.”

  “Sorry, it’s just…” Typhos said, feigning discomfort with ignoring titles. “OK, Amelia, I know it’s tradition and the rules that only those who are councilors are allowed to be in those meetings, but my Mom desperately needs help. You can see it and relate better than anyone on that council, even Cleatra. I believe I can provide that help she needs if you let me come and be with her during the day.”

  Typhos waited for the bombshell statement to shock Amelia and draw a profoundly disturbed look on her face. But even through the darkness of the sky, he could see the only other mother on the court had no reaction. In fact, her eyes seemed more sympathetic than before. The boy opened his mouth to speak but, sensing that he had Amelia on his side, shut up before he hurt himself.

  “And does anyone else support you?”

  “In fact, yes. Garron, Ramadus, and… Fargus, they all said they support me.”

  I didn’t need to lie to her. You fool. You better hope it doesn’t come out.

  “Fargus, of all people. I guess he sees it the way I do.”

  Typhos put his hand over his mouth to avoid Amelia seeing the huge grin forming.

  “I am very close with my son, much as you and Aida are,” she said. Sure are. I’ll agree. “And if something were to happen to my husband, I would hope we would always be there for each other. You have my support, Typhos. It will need to go to a vote, but it sounds like you already have that vote won.”

  “I do,” he said. “Councilor, Amelia, thank you so much. I very much appreciate you spending the time out here with me.”

  “You’re welcome, Typhos. All I ask is that when you get the things you want, if one of us is in a position of need, that you meet that need.”

  When. See, this woman knows. She doesn’t play coy games like when or whatever. She will help more someday.

  “I will, I promise,” Typhos said.

  “Good,” Amelia said. “You should get going now. Your mother will wonder if you got lost ursus hunting.”

  “I understand, thank you.”

  He gave one last bow and skirted across the plains with teleportation. He stuck to the beach, skipping past much of the forest, as he metaphorically—and, in certain spots, literally—danced in celebration, his thoughts now on a perpetual upbeat cycle.

  I’ll get on the council. I’ll see how the council works. I’ll actually become a councilor. Then I’ll become chief, and then… nothing can stop me then. I’ll become the greatest Kastori that ever lived. The greatest. Ever.

  Just have to make sure Fargus doesn’t speak out. If he doesn’t go first when we discuss, he won’t say anything. I think.

  He reached home about an hour later and found Garron and his mother waiting for him at the top of the peak.

  “Typhos!” Aida exclaimed, worry evident in her voice.

  “We were wondering about you, why you went where you did,” Garron said. Mom sensed me. I guess there are worse people to do so. “You good?”

  “Yeah,” Typhos said. “Sorry. I was just talking to different councilors. I got four to say yes.”

  Neither person said a word, which Typhos chalked up to being baffled. After several moments of silence, Typhos asked, “Well?”

  “Well, I guess we’ll discuss it and set a time for a discussion,” Garron said, who looked to Typhos’ mother for confirmation. “The council will likely set a date a couple of days out. It’s just the way things are.”

  How many times am I gonna have to hear that before I can make positive changes.

  “In the meantime, Typhos, make sure you are still prepared,” Garron said. “Four of us said yes, but any of the four can change their mind. The only thing that is binding is the final vote.”

  “I know, I know,” Typhos said, who just wished he could have the vote tonight.

  “Good,” his mother said. “Come on, son, it’s bed time. Let’s go.”

  Garron bid farewell, and Typhos joined his mother in falling asleep, finally able to rest peacefully knowing he had done the work to procure his ultimate dream.

  19

  Two days later, Typhos rose to see his mother sitting on the edge of her bed, looking impatiently at him. He blinked his eyes a few times, trying to shake off the fatigue that came from being unable to rest. His mind shifted to being on guard, given the look his mother had and the way she had acted the night before—a mix of tears, but also one of keeping her distance. It felt like she wanted to be as neutral as possible in this vote.

  Which is dumb. I’m her son! Her only child!

  “Typhos,” she said gently but firmly. “The council is ready to speak to you. We are ready to hold a discussion and vote on your request, and we will do so first thing today.”

  An ominous feeling overcame the boy. No one had spoken to him the day before. Not even Garron had spoken to him, and Typhos knew that Garron had seen him while coming home. He mentally prepared to persuade each councilor, reminding them all that they had said they would support him.

  All… but one. Don’t bite me up there, Fargus.

  “Well, no point in waiting any further, let’s go.”

  As he stood up and his mother escorted him out, Typhos could see Aida did not seem pleased by the whole endeavor. He began to suspect once more that his mother did not want him there, and it infuriated him. He wanted to curse her out and tell her he was doing her a massive favor. You won’t get better if you don’t want to. But I can make it so you’ll want to. Please, Mom. Stop acting like I’ve caused you so much trouble.

  At the bottom of the hill, his mother turned and faced Typhos. Perhaps sensing the trouble going through his mind, his mother gently put her hands on his arms.

  “You will have a chance to explain everything you have done,” she said, words that felt unusually precise.

  “Thank you,” he said hesitantly.

  “Close your eyes,” his mother said.

  Typhos felt a rush going through his feet and coursing through his body. Teleportation, but… unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Ever. So strong and fast.

  The feeling reached his neck and his face. Seconds later, he felt a cold wind whip his face. He opened his eyes and saw a spiraling staircase in front of him, open sky to his right, and the mountain to his left. He also saw a dark cave, so dark that he could not make out any details inside, even with the sun shining directly in. Typhos took a step forward, but the unexpectedly firm grip of his mother held him in place.

  “We go there to test ourselves against the power of the cave,” she said. “You will not need to go unless you become a councilor. Follow me.”

  Typhos became even more curious and kept glancing over his shoulder as he climbed the stairs.

  “Typhos,” his mother said, annoyed, and he quickened his pace.

  He never stopped looking back, however, and noticed one disturbing fact in particular—there were no stairs leading up to the platform he had teleported on. If so… and there’s no other… only teleportation can get you here. It’s a well-guarded magic zone.

  All of this magic. The power here. It is amazing. And I could be a part of it. I could be a part of it!

  He came to a platform that led to one last flight of stairs to the left. He followed his mother with excitement at the possibilities churning through him.

  It all vanished when he reache
d the peak.

  Waiting for him was a tall man in black robes and a red mask. Garron? Ramadus? The man gave a bow to his mother but ignored Typhos entirely. His mother approached the man, and Typhos took the chance to look around. In three different spots, forming something of a triangle, three statues—one of a woman, and two of men—stood in different contemplative positions, each of them holding a sword with a different colored emerald on the hilt. In line with those statues, near the center, two Kastori of each respective color stood side by side, except for the black magic councilor. The other man joined him quickly, and his mother went to the middle.

  Typhos slowly approached and saw her standing on a swirling triangle symbol. The symbol of magic, he thought, but he said nothing. With every step in, he felt the intensity of the magic increase, as if the planet itself could cast spells. And if so, grant it…

  “Stay,” his mother commanded, just in front of her but within the circle of the other six Kastori.

  He whirled around, looking at all of the councilors. They all had their masks on, making it impossible to read their mood or their minds. Typhos got a bad feeling and tried to reassure himself this was how the council operated. Once his mother put her mask on and he realized that he was the only one without a mask, all sense of hope vanished. I am the weak one here, just by not hiding my face. He gulped as he faced his mother, wearing a gold mask.

  “Welcome, Typhos, to this special council meeting,” she said, her voice muffled but still distinct. “Our first order of business, and our only one while my son is here, is to deal with the request of Typhos Kaos, my son and the son of the former chief Adanus Kaos, may he rest in peace. Typhos wishes to shadow me on the council for an undefined period.”

  A brief silence followed—deliberate or not, Typhos could not tell, but it felt like the weight of the conversation increased with each passing word. It’s too formal. Too… impersonal. I talked to Kastori, not some great and mighty council. These people are supposed to be helping me, not acting like a mysterious tribe. And Mom. You’re not acting like Mom. Come on.

  “Traditionally, we would start with an opening statement from Typhos. However, we have a special request for one of our councilors to speak first.”

  Oh…

  “Fargus, you have the floor.”

  “Wait, Mom, I—”

  “Quiet, please,” she said, scolding and without sympathy. “The council has made this choice due to the circumstances of this discussion. You will have the chance to speak before we make a decision.”

  Fargus stepped from the back right of Typhos and passed by closely. Typhos swore he could feel a cold spell emitting from Fargus as if warning him. His mother took two steps to her right, and Fargus stepped in the middle. He glared at Typhos, and even without the face of the councilor before him, Typhos knew his expression was not a pleasant one. Typhos bowed his head, unable to look at Fargus.

  “I have much sympathy for Typhos,” Fargus said. “He lost his father, his mother grieves, and the boy deals with many confusing issues. He has great power and great ambitions and, in some ways, is using that power and ambition as a coping mechanism to deal with the losses he has suffered.”

  I…

  Typhos knew it was true. Every time he thought of going to a new world or becoming chief, it dulled the pain from the anger he had toward his father and the confusion with his mother. He could no longer figure out which was more important—completing those goals, or using those goals to protect himself.

  “In recent days, his ambition has become so great, that it has caused him to behave unethically, make questionable decisions, and slur my name.”

  Typhos blushed with embarrassment. Immense anger surged in him. Do you have to spell it out like that? I made a mistake, I’ll pay the price, whatever. Don’t read it all out like it’s a book of crimes!

  Typhos thought about teleporting, but he couldn’t even initiate the act, let alone complete it. Someone’s blocking my powers here.

  “Typhos wishes to shadow his mother. Though I did not agree with his desire and declined, I could understand his position, and told him why I did not support it—namely, that I did not think he was mature enough to handle being on the council.”

  So now the truth comes out. Big thanks, Fargus. Glad everyone knows.

  “He proved me correct in telling many of you that I gave my support to him, seemingly as a way to pressure you into believing that more of us supported him. This is a complete lie.”

  He let the words hang in the air as Typhos felt all eyes staring at him. His legs felt weak, but he refused to collapse. He would fight back. He would appeal to their emotional side. I can still win this. I can still turn them.

  “In case it is not clear, let me make my position completely clear. I do not support Typhos in his desire to shadow his mother. He has acted selfishly, and anyone who acts selfishly is not acting in the best interest of the Kastori. If you still choose to support him, that is your choice, but understand when he talked to you, he lied to you.”

  20

  Typhos had never felt so embarrassed in his life. He had also not felt so angry in quite some time. I get that I lied. But shaming me like this in front of everyone? Screw you, Fargus.

  Fargus bowed to his mother and resumed his original spot. Typhos kept his head bowed, refusing to look at anyone around him.

  “Does anyone else wish to speak?” she said, her tone flat and monotonous.

  “Yes, I would,” Ramadus said, and Typhos sighed as he walked in front. “Typhos, I am very disappointed in you. I believed in you completely!”

  Well, that’s your fault for being such a fool, Ramadus.

  “I wanted to believe that the son of the past two chiefs would not lie, but I guess I was wrong. And I know Aida is not to blame for this, she is a wonderful and truthful woman.”

  Typhos sneered at Ramadus but did not glance up to face him.

  “You have a lot of growing up to do, Typhos. I rescind my support.”

  Screw you.

  Ramadus went to the side in silence. Typhos began to think there was no one he disliked more than Ramadus. Incompetent, naive, weak and bumbling were all words that only scratched the surface of what annoyed Typhos. Somehow worse than Fargus right now.

  “I would like to speak,” Amelia said.

  Typhos softened his hard thoughts, but could not bring himself to look up.

  “Typhos, understand, I still support what you do for your mother. I want to help you here. But I can’t. We deal with too many hard, private issues that we need to be able to trust everyone in the room to keep a secret. Unfortunately, and you may hate me for saying this, but you violated that trust.”

  But you still support me? So what does it matter? Why should one person changing their mind suddenly change the mind of everyone else? You still support me!

  “Show us, Typhos, that you have grown and learned over the next several months, and maybe we’ll change our mind. I’ll be ready to. But you have to show that not only do you love your mother, you can also be trusted.”

  Typhos didn’t like her words, but at least he could respect Amelia and her older son, Lycos. Silence came, save for the gusts of wind.

  “Anyone else?” his mother asked.

  Garron silently took a few steps forward and seemed to communicate with his mother longer than usual. He turned to Typhos, who kept his head bowed.

  “Typhos, look up at me,” he said, but Typhos refused. No need to see a masked man berate me.

  But Garron did something Typhos did not expect. He took a couple of steps closer, to the point of being able to touch Typhos, and removed his mask, cradling it in his right hand. Typhos looked up and saw anger in Garron’s eyes—but also pain and control.

  “This is very disappointing, Typhos,” he said. “I want to make this clear to you. I supported you in your love for your mother. In some ways, I still support you and want to see you here. But when the time comes to vote, I am going to vote no. Because what Far
gus, Ramadus and Amelia said is right. You are a special man—I am not going to call you a boy. Your father is gone, which means it is time for you to be a man. But a man does not lie. A man does not manipulate people to get what he wants. A man faces a challenge, accepts it, tackles it with honesty and an ethical code, and vanquishes it in the proper time. Attempting to cheat that system in any other way results in chaos, terrible outcomes, and unnecessary anger.”

  Garron looked Typhos up and down. Now facing someone who had the guts to take off his mask, Typhos stared him in the eyes. Typhos still felt great anger and shame, but he also could listen to Garron.

  “This is not the end of your hopes, Typhos. Everyone in this circle has made mistakes, some worse than yours. Everyone in this circle, even as council members, will make mistakes in the future, and some will be worse than yours. If you want to be on the council, you still have a chance. But you need to make amends, and you need to show us that this was an isolated incident, not indicative of your future behavior. If it’s the former, you stand a great chance of joining us. If it’s the latter… let me put it bluntly. You will never be on this council.”

  Never on the council?

  Then…

  I guess I’d just have to make the council irrelevant.

  “The council will always have a place, Typhos. Even against powerful forces, it has never collapsed.”

  Typhos sighed slowly, realizing his angry thoughts had turned him into something he did not want to be—a bitter, obvious child. I have ambitions, but not deadly ones. I just… I just want my goals so badly I go off the deep end.

  “The choice is yours, Typhos. Both paths are possible for you at this moment, and whichever one you go down, it won’t be because of me, your mother, or your father. It will be because of you.”

  Garron put his mask back on, standing once more in front of Typhos for a couple of beats. He took his place back in the circle, and his mother once again stepped forward.