Kastori Tribulations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 3)

by Stephen Allan

  With a last thank you from Garron, Typhos began jogging in the direction of Fargus’ tent, using bursts of teleportation when he could to speed up the process.

  He felt a chill as he approached the elder’s home. Fargus emerged from his isolated tent when the boy got within a few feet, his hands folded by his waist with an expectant look on his face. He moved his right hand to the flap, welcoming Typhos. Fargus sat across from Typhos, his eyes locked in on the boy.

  “I’m sorry for using your name in my lies,” Typhos said sincerely. “I am sorry for lying to the council. I am sorry for all of my actions surrounding this, and I ask for your forgiveness.”

  Typhos braced himself for the silence to come. Knowing what’s coming makes it easier to handle this. As long as there’s not some riddle on the other side of this silence.

  Finally, Fargus nodded.

  “You are forgiven,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Remember the words of Garron.”

  Typhos nodded, said, “Thanks,” and Fargus gave a rare but genuine smile. He grabbed papers and began reading, ignoring the boy, delivering his message in a way words could not. Typhos opened the flap to the outside world no longer feeling alone and burdened, but with support and excitement again.

  Finally, things are looking up. I can finally get back to becoming chief without too much trouble.

  27

  Typhos bumped into Pagus on his return, and instead of heading home, the two went back into the woods, practicing their increasing powers. Pagus kept his eyes out for pranks, but Typhos felt so good he didn’t feel the need to surprise Pagus. The boys ate precora and eventually headed back home for an afternoon nap.

  When Typhos came home, he saw his mother at the top of his hill. He did not approach her but made a mental note to ask her about it later.

  Before the boy could even shut his eyes, his mother returned, and her mood seemed to have swung drastically. Gone was the cheerful, tender, and relaxed woman from that morning who had gently goaded him in the right direction. But the depressed, sad, and fatigued mother he had known for weeks after his father died was not there either.

  Instead, his mother looked anxious, frightened, and contemplative, with such nerves that she could barely be still for half a second. Without diving into her mind, Typhos could only observe the generally frayed emotions she displayed.

  “Mom?”

  “Oh, hi, Typhos, hi,” she said, her eyes shifting to him for barely a second before she made her way to the bed.

  “Mom? Are you OK?”

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she lied.

  Whatever’s going on… we’re not going to repeat what my father did. No matter how bad this gets.

  Typhos walked over to his mother. He could see sweat on her forehead and noticed indecisiveness in her.

  “Mom, I can see you’re not fine. You’re sweating on a day that’s not that hot, and you’re nervous. Something is bugging you.”

  Something really bad.

  “It’s nothing, son, it’s nothing, I promise.”

  Just like Dad. Not gonna get anywhere.

  “Oh… OK,” Typhos said, and for a brief moment, he stood up, but before he had straightened out his knees, he sat back down. Press her. “Mom, you realize this is exactly what Dad said before he died, right? He wanted to keep things quiet thinking it’d help us, but it left us reeling. I don’t want that. I want you to tell me what you’re thinking about.”

  His mother let out a long sigh, nodded, and opened her mouth.

  But nothing came. She went back into contemplative mode.

  No matter. I’ll wait. We need to say what we can here.

  “I’m just thinking about Monda,” she said.

  Can’t be it. There’s more. I know it.

  “What about Monda?” Typhos asked.

  “Just… there’s just something there, Typhos, that I realized today. Something that’s drawing me back there. And I have some tough choices now.”

  Oh great.

  “So, what, are you going to move there and leave me here?”

  “No, Typhos, don’t be silly. It’s just… it’s the same way with your father. I sometimes am drawn back to him. That doesn’t mean I’m going to go to your father’s pyre site and stay there.”

  This isn’t right.

  Whatever is drawing her back, it could get her back.

  And she’s not going to tell me.

  So…

  As subtly as he could, with as soft a touch as possible—aided by his mother looking down, deep in thought—Typhos began peering into his mother’s mind. For the first bit, he saw a young man, well-dressed and confident, with a radiant smile, looking into Aida’s eyes with love. Then he saw his mother holding a child, a newborn—Typhos himself?

  Or… she’s not in a tent…

  A gasp knocked Typhos out of her mind. His mother looked at him in shock.

  She slapped him. Typhos looked at her infuriated, feeling disrespected.

  “Shame on you, Typhos,” she scolded. “There’s a lot of things I can look past. Pranks. Ruthless, cutthroat ambition. But I cannot look past you violating the trust this family has established when you dived into my mind. I don’t like the way you’ve acted since Adanus’ death.”

  “What else am I supposed to do when you push away my questions?!” Typhos said, desperation and anger both palpable. “I lost Dad right after he kept telling me everything was fine. And now you’re acting all weird and saying things are fine. I don’t think you’re going to die, but…”

  That man. That child.

  You’re going to choose them.

  “Who was the man I saw, Mom?”

  Aida sighed loudly. The look on her face had turned from anxious to annoyed, but after being slapped, Typhos would not let her go until he had answers.

  “The man I told you about earlier,” she said.

  “And the child?”

  “I don’t know. Probably you.”

  No. No. No. You… that was not the tent. Adanus wasn’t there. It’s…

  It’s not me. You have other children. Or…

  “You lie.”

  The look on his mother’s face confirmed what Typhos suspected—he had just severed the trust between them at that moment, with the tears in her eyes and the quivering of her lips affirming his gut feeling. The truth had shattered their trust.

  “There is only one liar in this family, Typhos,” she mumbled. “And it is not me.”

  You…

  Rage consumed the boy, who felt like his mother had taken a knife, spun him around, and plunged it in his back. He stormed out of the tent with his eyes starting to well. He ignored Pagus calling his name and everyone else who stole a glance at him. He walked past the hill and headed all the way to the ocean. At the beach, he equipped his mask, gave an incredible scream of pain, and created a storm with hurricane-like winds and lightning strong enough to fry life in the ocean.

  We’d gotten back to being so good. Things were so great.

  And now I have a sibling somewhere. Probably on Monda.

  Or will.

  That’s what she’s hiding.

  The storm intensified as Typhos’ anger exponentially increased, the rain coming down so hard it felt like hail. The mask protected and empowered him, though, and he kept up the ferocious tempest for several minutes as he unleashed his anger through his magic.

  “I hate you!” he screamed as lightning roared from the sky, so bright Typhos could see it flashing through the mask. “I hate you! You never loved me! You just had me to make Adanus happy! Go to Monda! I don’t care!”

  Typhos clenched his fists and pounded them down, creating massive waves that crashed just feet from him and rushed over his feet. He ignored them and continued screaming.

  “I never want to see you again! You’re only Mom by blood. You’re not Mom by love! Go to Monda and let me be my own man!”

  Finally, he ran out of energy and collapsed to one knee as the storm faded away. Typhos remo
ved his mask and let his senses adjust to the physical world.

  “This is it,” he gasped. “You’re your own man now. Mom might as well be as dead as Dad is.”

  28

  Typhos heard footsteps coming from behind and slowly rose, bracing for a confrontation with his mother. He took a deep breath, and slowly turned around.

  “Oh, Hanna,” he said, pleasantly relieved. “What are you doing here?”

  “I think the better question is what is everyone else not doing here with that storm you cooked up,” she said with a warm and gentle smile. “Are you OK?”

  “Oh, haha, yeah, I’m just practicing my magic, and—”

  What are you doing, idiot. You wanna turn into your parents? Tell her the truth.

  “No, no, that’s not it. I’m just upset at my mom. And my dad. And everyone.”

  Hanna approached slowly as if coming up to a wounded animal that could kill. She kept a short distance between the two but made it clear she wanted to comfort him.

  “I know what happened with the council,” she said, drawing an angry feeling from Typhos. “For what it’s worth, I and everyone else in the class had your back on that one. Well, not every single person, but no one completely thought you were in the wrong. We are all with you that the council was too vested in the way ‘things are always done’ instead of just common sense. We know your mother needs you.”

  Typhos gave a weary smile, followed by a resigned laugh.

  “I appreciate the support, Hanna. Doesn’t do much good right now—”

  “No, but it may some day,” she said. “Besides, even ignoring the so-called ‘ethics’ that the council talked about—which, I get it, don’t lie, but still—everyone loved your audacity. You got a lot of support here. You know how to make friends, Typhos.”

  She paused as the two locked eyes. Typhos felt… something there. But he also recognized he had too much anger and turmoil inside to do anything other than talk. He could not go beyond the surface of emotions because he felt such anger.

  “So with all that said, I get the bitterness, Typhos. I’m sorry. I know you’re not OK. I just want to see if there’s anything else to it.”

  “Nothing I would want to talk about,” Typhos said sadly. “Just my Mom.”

  “Maybe she’s just experiencing an upswell of grief,” Hanna said. “Seriously. When my grandmother died, my father would just go through these random stages of depression for probably a good year. He would be fine for three weeks, we’d think everything was normal, and then withdrawal for a month. It was like trying to speak to an ursus at that point, honestly. You couldn’t get anything out of him.”

  Typhos said nothing. He didn’t want to give his mother any room here, not after he realized he was not an only child. And I can’t bring that up to Hanna.

  “Maybe your mother is just being a terrible person.”

  Yeah, there’s no maybe in that.

  “But Aida’s the chief, she’s probably not a horrible person. More likely than not, something or someone reminded her of Adanus, it triggered feelings of grief, and now she has to fight them. Remember, it’s only been, what, a month?”

  Except it’s not grief she’s fighting. It’s confusion.

  I’ll bet now though she has no doubt what she’ll do.

  “Something like that,” Typhos said.

  “That’s not a long time for someone who’s been married for as long as she was.”

  Typhos sighed. He didn’t want to continue. But if he could barely acknowledge what he had seen, to the point that it meant he could not bring it up with Hanna… indulge her.

  “For people who are married as they were, or together, for, what, at least a decade? Some people never recover.”

  I shouldn’t have indulged her.

  I’m going to be one of those people who never recover. I can already tell.

  “You know I’m here to talk if you ever need anything,” she said, gently placing her hand on his arm, producing… nothing.

  She surprised him by pulling him in for a tight hug, holding him tight, and rubbing his back gently. He returned the favor, though only because he felt it polite.

  “You’ll be OK,” Hanna said, her hands remaining on his shoulders. “I know it’s hard right now, but you’ll be good. Just don’t try and throw any ursuses my way, OK?”

  Typhos laughed, a laugh that was so desperately needed it went on longer than he had anticipated.

  “I was thinking more aviants from the sky to pick you up,” he said as they both laughed.

  Hanna left shortly after, leaving Typhos alone. But he knew should he try anything against the council, he may not have had his mother’s support.

  But he’d have the support of everyone his age.

  The council doesn’t stand a chance.

  29

  Typhos returned to his tent a couple of hours later, with the sun beginning to set, and did not see his mother anywhere. Good. Let me have the place to myself. I don’t care if she’s gone.

  He began sloppily making soup with multiple mistakes and several spills as his anger caused him to rush the process. He cursed himself out but finally finished. Not once in the cooking or eating process did he sense, magically or physically, his mother’s presence. He shrugged, telling himself he still didn’t care. When he finished, he walked outside to hang out with Pagus.

  En route, Typhos bumped into Garron.

  “You look terrible,” Garron said, drawing a laugh from Typhos.

  “Not one for subtlety, huh?”

  “Not the way you look. What’s going on?”

  “Mom,” Typhos said, saying the name like a curse. “Whole lot of stuff. Did you see where she went? She’s not in the tent, and I can’t sense her.”

  Garron shook his head without much concern.

  “Probably went to the peak. She’s under a lot of stress, you know.”

  “And you don’t think I am?” Typhos said, straining to keep his voice calm.

  Garron took several moments to make sure he said the right thing. I can work with you, Garron. You’re OK. Probably the only one on that council.

  “You should be,” Garron said. “Aida has not been in the best state of mind nor particularly predictable or reliable. But we have to recognize how brutal a loss Adanus was for her, while acknowledging how tough it is for you to have a deceased father and an emotionally messy mother.”

  “That’s fair,” Typhos slowly said. “That’s fair.”

  He couldn’t think of anything else to say that would not reveal how much he wished Aida wasn’t there. But really…

  “It’d be nice to know where she is, instead of her just running off again.”

  “I know, Typhos. I’m sure wherever she is, she’ll be back.”

  Typhos suddenly froze, sensing a flash of her presence. It came from the top of the hill. He excused himself. He knelt down and put on his mask but had no luck. It seemed more like a mirage, a trick of the mind, than an actual sighting of his mother.

  Sighing and frustrated, Typhos headed home, falling into bed but having significant trouble sleeping. As much as he wanted to say he didn’t need his mother, the painful knotting of his stomach and the headache he felt confirmed that what he said didn’t line up with how he felt.

  She owes me an apology. I probably owe her an apology.

  But I just want things to go back to the way they were. Is that so hard? Mom? If you do have a child elsewhere, just bring them here. Or I’ll go with you. I don’t care.

  She never showed up, and finally, just as the sky began to brighten to signal the coming of a new day, Typhos fell asleep.

  He woke to Garron and Fargus already in his tent, and Cleatra entering.

  “Typhos, we have a problem,” Garron said. “No one can sense your mother, and she’s not at the peak. No one knows where she is.”

  30

  “I know exactly where she is,” Typhos said, waking with nothing but anger. “She ran off to Monda to find some guy and�
�”

  “She’s not on Monda,” Fargus said.

  The sharp words struck a terrible nerve with Typhos. His mother… she was gone. Dead? Probably.

  Suicide? Passive death?

  Whatever. Mom left. Mom’s gone. Let her be gone. She was dead the day my father died. She was physically but not emotionally here for me.

  I don’t have any parents anymore. Haven’t for a month. Really, have never had parents the way Pagus or Hanna do. Mine never did anything for me. And now they’re gone.

  Good riddance. No more obstacles in my way. No one left to feel fake, hopeless emotion for. Let me become chief. Three Kaos family members in a row. Let it be that way.

  “So she’s gone, then,” Typhos said, a complete lack of emotion in his voice.

  “Let’s not go there until we have to, Typhos,” Garron said, kneeling before him. “Here’s the deal. The last any of us saw your mother was yesterday afternoon. I saw you leave, so I went and talked to her, but her mind seemed distant. She kept saying how she had a terrible choice, and someone would lose, but she felt she had to make a decision. Do you know anything about that choice? Or anything else she’s talking about?”

  Why are we having this discussion. Mom never cared for me or anyone. She only loved my father because he was chief and he could make her chief. Whether she’s chasing some stupid man or not on a faraway land or is dead doesn’t matter.

  “Deciding between me and a man on Monda,” he said with such disgust he practically spat the words out. “And she chose the man. I guess someone she can be with is more important than her son.”

  “Typhos! Remem—”

  Garron stopped and looked at Fargus. The two communicated silently, and Garron stopped himself from further berating the boy.

  “She’s not on Monda. Do you know of any place else she could possibly be?”

  “No,” Typhos said.

  She has to be on Monda. No place else dragged her in like that. She’s probably casting a spell to block our magic. I’ve never heard of anyone doing it, but it’s Mom. She could probably do it.