Kastori Tribulations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 3)

by Stephen Allan

  “Your mother?”

  Typhos sighed. He really doesn’t get it. He’s… he’s as close to an innocent councilor as we have. Typhos thanked himself for wearing the mask, as the emotions of the encounter and Garron’s innocence had begun to overwhelm him.

  “Erda Orran is not a teacher, Garron. She’s my mother. She’s returned from Monda, for whatever reason. Maybe she had some husband die on that planet. Ramadus said no one recognized her. I find that very hard to believe since I recognized her and my red magic is not that powerful.”

  Garron breathed slowly, his eyes still watery, looking at the young man who was once his child’s best friend and now a man who would wind up in jail or face execution.

  “Typhos… this is hard for me. I want to believe you. I know you are not the boy who just… did what he did. I can sense the alcohol and anger in you. You’ll have to face the consequences, but we can mitigate those. But on the other hand, you seem so unrepentant for what you’ve done, and we know your mother is gone. No one has sensed her since she left and gave you that suicide note.”

  Oh. No. I did tell him it was…

  “Garron, that wasn’t a suicide note,” Typhos said, his voice cracking. “It was a note saying she had a child on Monda, and she had chosen him over me.”

  He mumbled a swear toward his mother, but Garron made no attempt to censure him for the curse.

  “Why didn’t you—”

  “Because she was dead to me,” Typhos said, hostility mixing with grief. “But then she showed up at the councilor election and has such power over all of you that no one even considers it, except me, whom she either isn’t powerful enough to control or didn’t want to. But…”

  He had no more words. She’s still dead to me. Nothing changes that.

  “I still cannot believe you, Typhos, but let’s go with it. If she is, in fact, your mother, Typhos, remember her power. She was more powerful than you when she left. She may have grown in power. It is not out of the question that she gained enough power to fool the minds of all of us. We are the most powerful Kastori, yes, but we are not perfect. We are not gods.”

  “Some of us aspire to be, Garron,” Typhos said menacingly.

  “Some of us can acknowledge that we have limits,” Garron retorted.

  “Well, I’m sorry you have such things. The last person to suggest that…”

  Typhos looked out to the open plains, where not even a pillar of smoke remained of Ramadus. Stay calm. Garron may yet join you. Don’t do anything stupid.

  “Whatever you are becoming, Typhos, I beg you to stop,” Garron said, speaking as Typhos looked down at his hand. “Where is the boy who was so funny and playful with my son? Where has that boy gone?”

  “He died the day my father died,” Typhos said.

  But anger started to boil over as he thought about what came after that.

  “Why don’t you ask my mother?” Typhos snarled. “In fact, call to her now. I’m sure she would love to come and see what her son has become.”

  “OK, well, if Erda is, in fact, your mother, there’s no doubt she already knows you’re here, talking to me. In fact, I’m sure the entire council intends to come right now.”

  “And what do you intend to do, Garron?”

  “Arrest you.”

  “And then?”

  “If you’re found guilty, well, you know that the only crime that we punish with death is the murder of a member of the council. I will do everything I can to get you a prison sentence, but in the best case scenario, if you show true repentance—which you are not right now—you might get out after a couple of decades.”

  Typhos sighed. Through his mask, he felt no panic. With the amount of power he had, no prison could hold him down.

  And if I kill Garron…

  “You should run,” Typhos said pleadingly. “I will not accept my arrest. I will fight back. And I will kill anyone who stands in my way of this. And Garron, that includes…”

  “Don’t do this, Typhos,” Garron said, the tears flowing. “You have so much potential. Your power is being used right now for destruction. It can be used for good.”

  “In a container where I won’t be able to use my skills?”

  Garron fell silent.

  This is bad. So sad. Garron, I like you. And now you’re going to take the stand with the rest of the council?

  Please. Please don’t.

  “Garron, please, just go. I can’t be stopped, and I don’t want—”

  “I have to stand up for what I believe is right,” Garron said. “Even at the risk of my own life.”

  Typhos sighed as he slowly took off the mask. He knew the emotions would come to a head, and he sniffled once he had his senses back. Garron gasped at his dead eye, but Typhos ignored it.

  “You were always the council member I looked up to the most,” Typhos said. “Garron, you were more of a father to me than my father was. You were a great councilor. But the council is corrupt and past its days. I, as the greatest of the Kastori, can lead our people to heights greater than they ever envisioned.”

  You keep saying were. Are you ready to go down that path?

  “Not all Kastori want to climb, Typhos.”

  Typhos bit his lip. He knew it was true. Some Kastori would resist him, and not just on the council. Some would want to remain on Anatolus, just going about their boring lives.

  “Where will you go, Typhos?”

  To the place that took the mother I knew and love away from me. And I will destroy that place. Destroy. Destroy!

  “Monda,” he said. “I am certain that that is where she disappeared to.”

  “And what will you do there?”

  “What I did to Ramadus.”

  Garron sighed.

  “The people of Monda are good people, Typhos. I cannot allow you to do that. I am asking you to give yourself up. I will let you live as free—”

  He took a step forward, and Typhos froze him with a magic spell. He released the spell shortly after, letting Garron free, who did not take another step forward.

  “Typhos!”

  “I don’t want to do this, Garron, but if you try and arrest me, I… I will have to…”

  You’re going to do something you can’t even bring yourself to say?

  “So be it, Typhos. I love you and will always love you, but I have an obligation to the greater good. Not just for Kastori, but all life. If this is where you want to go, I must stop you from taking that journey.”

  A pause came as both men stood their ground, observing the other, trying to decipher what the other was doing. Who would flinch first?

  Quickly, Garron threw an electric spell. Typhos immediately blocked it and threw a fire spell at Garron, which Garron could not resist. Typhos used his red magic to bring Garron to him. In one swift motion, he reached down for the knife he had used on Ramadus and drove it straight through the heart of Garron.

  The two were face to face, so close that Typhos saw nothing but the face of the dying man. He saw the eyes of a hurt father—not just of Pagus, but of him—and Typhos realized in horror what he had done. He broke free of the anger as he quickly withdrew the blade and knelt to the ground, gently bringing Garron down.

  It’s true. More of a father than Adanus.

  I just killed one of the few people who never abandoned me.

  This is me now. I’m a killer.

  “I’m sorry,” Typhos said, sobbing.

  “Let… Pagus be… Typhos… never too… late to… change.”

  Garron’s body went limp in the arms of Typhos as the young man himself went limp with tears and uncontrolled shaking. Blood from Garron seeped onto Typhos’ robes, and the man quickly tore off the bloodied robes and rested it on top of the deceased councilor.

  And now not only have I killed Garron, Pagus will never take my side.

  As he shouldn’t.

  He ignored the rush of power produced by killing Garron, remaining an inconsolable mess on his knees.

  Su
ddenly, Typhos could not move. His entire body was paralyzed, incapable of even looking up. He heard the sound of footsteps approaching rapidly.

  “Typhos,” Fargus said, grief heavy in his voice.

  Three councilors lifted him up, and Typhos came face to face with the most senior member of the council.

  And his mother.

  “I hate you,” Typhos shouted as they began teleporting him to the prison on the back side of Mount Ardor. “You are the reason for all of this.”

  44

  No one spoke a word to Typhos as they led him to the prison, the only building on Anatolus made of wood—wood which, thanks to the power of magic, extinguished all magic from the inside and could not be burned from the outside. Typhos kept shooting hateful, venomous glares toward his mother, but she did not make any eye contact with him after the initial arrest.

  “When are we going to trial, huh? Is someone as stupid as Ramadus going to lead us?”

  No one spoke to him. I’m digging my own grave here. That is, in the council’s minds. They don’t even realize how useless they are. They don’t know. I will take control, destroy Monda, and lead our people to even greater places. I will earn back the title of savior. The council has none of that ambition.

  Fargus broke a binding spell on a door, and the councilors escorted Typhos to the far corner of the room. The young man offered no resistance and did not try to escape. My time will come.

  But to his chagrin, once the councilors left and cast another binding spell, he began to realize his options for escape were limited. He could not cast any spells, not even sense spells, and any black magic spells he tried to cast produced nothing. He had a bed with one blanket, but he had no openings to the outside whatsoever. Even the door that swung open had no handle from the inside.

  Huh. I’ll actually need help from the outside. How amusing. I can destroy councilors, but as soon as I get caught here, I actually need help. After saying I don’t need anyone’s help.

  Let’s try not to get in this spot again once I escape.

  He thought about what he had done. He had killed Ramadus. Good. He had killed Garron. That…

  Just remembering the dying face of Pagus’ father made Typhos tremble with sorrow. Only the utter hatred and contempt for his mother pushed him past his grief. She had to pay for what she had done. That mattered more to Typhos than expressing regret for the murder of Garron.

  He sat on the bed and tried to plot his strategy. But at the moment, he couldn’t come up with anything.

  Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate!

  Why, Mom? Why?!? Why did you abandon me! Why did you keep flashing back, tormenting me the way you do?!?

  You will pay for this. I will make sure of it.

  45

  The next afternoon, Fargus ordered Typhos to the back of the cell from outside the building.

  “You have a visitor,” he said.

  Who?

  The door swung open, and to his surprise, Hanna walked in. She had a concerned expression on her face, and as soon as the door slammed shut behind her, she ran up to Typhos and hugged him. She pulled back, and her face slowly processed the scars on his face and the half-melted skin on his hand.

  “What… what happened? What did you do?”

  Typhos paused to consider his options. She could be my messenger to others to help break me out. She could be the one to help set me free. She likes me enough.

  “I got put here under false accusations.”

  “You did?” Hanna said, strong doubt in her voice. “The chief and a councilor are dead. Everyone I’ve talked to said that you lost your mind and attacked them.”

  “That’s…” Typhos said, struggling to search for the right words. “It’s not true, OK?”

  Going down a dangerous path here. You better be flawless.

  “I would never, ever hurt Garron. Pagus is my best friend! And I never liked Ramadus, I’ll admit, but all the same, I wouldn’t kill him.”

  Hanna didn’t seem convinced, and she sat on the edge of the bed, shaking her head slowly.

  “I want to believe you, Typhos, I do. I’ve always liked you and know you have a good heart. But everyone knows Erda got the council spot and that you wouldn’t handle it well. That and they sensed your magic on the knife that killed Ramadus and Pagus.”

  Screwed.

  Typhos didn’t see a way out. He couldn’t persuade Hanna in the prison. She knew the evidence. He gently placed his hand on her and felt an odd sensation.

  “I swear I didn’t do it.”

  “You didn’t do it.”

  She said it with more certainty than before, and it confused him. He looked at his hand, and it suddenly hit him. I can’t use my magic here. It can’t go across space. But I can make contact with her and make her magic work for me. It just stays inside.

  “No,” Typhos said, doing his best not to gleefully smile at the realization. “Ever since my parents died, the council—they’ve pressured me, saying I had to prove I was the future to get a role. I was broken, Hanna, no, I am broken. I failed, and perhaps tired of me, they set me up over the councilor’s deaths. I don’t… I don’t even…”

  “It’s OK,” Hanna said, and Typhos reminded himself to stay in character. “Typhos, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know they had reached this point. I knew you from class and our time, and I knew you would never do anything like this.”

  “I wouldn’t,” he said, choosing to play the saddened, subdued character over the venomously angry one.

  Don’t move your hand. This is perfect.

  I just hope the effect remains when she leaves. I can’t keep my hand on her forever.

  “I have a strong feeling that Erda is trying to set me up in all of this,” Typhos said, doing his best not to reference her as his mother. He didn’t think even magic could persuade Hanna to believe that part of the story. “She becomes elected, but she knows how badly I wanted the role and how strong I am. She knows I could be future competition for the role of chief. So she kills two people and makes me the scapegoat? I know it’s crazy, but I think that’s what happened.”

  “It’s not crazy, it makes sense,” Hanna said as Typhos smiled. It’s working almost too well. Keep it believable for others.

  “It’s a tragedy, but if ever there was a silver lining in all of this, it means young blood can come and take over. And young blood is exactly what the council needs these days—blood that can guide it to new heights and new levels.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, Typhos. You speak so well.”

  Yes. Yes, I do. Now just stay this way for the next day. Get me out, and then I won’t care if the spell wears off. You’ll have no choice but to follow me.

  “Thank you, Hanna. But I need you to do me a favor. I need your help.”

  “What can I do to help, Typhos?”

  “Whatever you can do, Hanna. Tell people of the way the council is setting me up. Protest. Whatever you can think of. Rile them up. The more riled up they get, the more the council will have to listen. If you know people who can get me out of here, I would really appreciate that. The council has some good members, but as a whole, they cannot function properly anymore. We need excited, fired up people who are ready for change.”

  And the more energized they get, the more likely they are to come and get me out of here. Then we can defeat the remainder of the council and set the Kastori up for success in the future.

  “I understand, Typhos. I will.”

  She stood up, and Typhos removed his hand. He braced for her to flip back to her doubting, logical self as his shoulders tensed.

  “Typhos,” she said.

  Here it comes.

  “We’ll get you out of here. I know this is unfair, and you wouldn’t do anything like the council is accusing you of.”

  Excellent.

  Hanna then did something unexpected—she kissed Typhos on the cheek. Typhos hadn’t felt that kind of love in a long time, and Hanna gave a comforting smile and a goodbye as she left. Perh
aps it had come as a result of the persuasive spell that Typhos had used on her mind, but no matter what, it was affection that he had a strong emotional reaction to.

  Get rid of it. You see what happens when you love someone. They eventually leave you. It’s all heartbreak, agony, and anger. You get close to her, she’ll probably die or abandon you. Don’t go down that road again. That road will only prevent you from accomplishing your goals.

  Typhos stewed in his cell for the next several hours, wishing that he could unconditionally embrace the pleasant feeling that Hanna had left him with. He knew once he got out, that moment would probably mark the last time anyone cared about him as she did. Everyone else might follow him, but would do so out of fear or being magically controlled. No one would have that intimacy with him. Typhos told himself it was for the best, but part of him could not accept that.

  Just as Typhos had begun to wash himself of those thoughts, a loud bang came at the door.

  “You have a visitor,” Fargus said.

  Typhos eagerly awaited the new person he could sway. He gulped when the tall figure walked through the door.

  Pagus.

  46

  “You know, there’s only one person I know of who is so consumed by something they want that they would kill those they ‘love’ to get it.”

  The expression on Pagus’ face resembled the one Typhos had had when Adanus died—uncontrollable sadness mixed with a massive dose of anger. Pagus had his hands curled into fists. This is one fight I won’t try and win. Remember what Garron said. Honor his last words.

  “You killed my father, didn’t you,” Pagus said, his voice disturbingly dark.

  Typhos gulped and thought about lying, maybe just saying nothing. But he knew Pagus knew.

  Do it.

  “I’m sorry,” Typhos said.

  Pagus could only shake his head in disgust. He let out a sarcastic laugh.

  “Sorry isn’t going to bring him back, Typhos. You took away the one thing I knew I could always count on, and now I know I will never get him back.”

  Pagus looked at Typhos like he was going to pummel him, and if he did, Typhos wouldn’t resist. He deserved all of the brutal beatings that Pagus would deliver.