Kastori Restorations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 4)

by Stephen Allan

She saw a dense black sphere of magic that looked mostly unstable—electricity, fire and other spells seemed to shoot out of it. The sphere was too opaque for her to see inside, but she knew within the cocoon of dark magic Typhos awaited. She gulped and slowly ascended the last flight of stairs.

  “Celeste!” the voice of Typhos roared, though he still did not reveal himself. “I am impressed. I am not surprised that you defeated the challenges. But I am genuinely impressed at how easily you got past your emotions to win the battles. Your emotions were once your weakness, able to be used against you.”

  “My emotions are still a strength, Typhos,” Celeste shouted over the howling winds and lightning. “I just know when to ignore them and when to use them to my advantage.”

  She stopped when she reached the peak. The magic was only about five feet away, and she felt tempted to walk through it. But something in her told her to stop.

  “Regardless, you show growth, sister,” Typhos said.

  “You can too, brother. You can change. Come to our side. Your fight is losing.”

  Just then, she sensed the last Calypsius fall, and Cyrus by its side, striking its heart with his sword.

  “All of your Calypsius creations have perished. Monda remains in human hands.”

  A slow, frightening, too-confident laugh came from Typhos, who seemed utterly unconcerned at the loss of his monsters.

  “My sweet sister, did you really think I would leave the fate of Monda up to monsters I know you have already defeated?”

  Celeste gulped, having no idea what to expect next, but she didn’t like it. What more could he create? What would be worse than Calypsius?

  “Look up to the heavens.”

  She did and gasped in horror at the massive—impossibly massive—creature. It seemed as large as Anatolus’ sun, slithering like the monster on Tapuya, with jaws large enough to destroy Mount Ardor.

  “Behold, Vritrus,” Typhos said. “I will teleport it to the outer reaches of your planet. Your people will see it approaching, knowing that it brings the utter extinction of humanity, but also knowing that there is nothing they can do about it.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Celeste said, horrified. How could they possibly defeat something that could physically destroy planets? At least Calypsius had to work as part of the planet. This… horror did not.

  “I would, and I have,” Typhos said.

  “Typhos…” Celeste said, and a fury began to envelop her. “You would destroy an entire world just for your own pleasure? You’re a coward, Typhos. A toothless coward. You want to destroy a world, yet you hide on a planet on the other side of the universe, too scared to see the faces of those who will die at your hand. You want to say the monster killed the planet, yet we know it is you who will destroy Monda. You want the glory, but none of the shame and grief that come with it. Is this what you are, Typhos?!? A coward?”

  To her surprise, Typhos did not roar in anger at her. He did not scream or retort with his own insults. Instead, he sounded genuinely concerned.

  “You do raise an interesting point,” he said. “I have to admit, Celeste, as much as I wish to see you gone given the pain and doubt you bring to my mind, I do admire the way you burrow into my psyche in a way no one else would even dare to do. But there is nothing you can do to change my mind.”

  Suddenly, the magic seemed to rise, rushing toward Vritrus, though the sphere on the peak remained.

  “Vritrus!” the voice of Typhos echoed across the planet.

  Celeste looked back to the stars and saw the creature vanishing. Its teleportation moved slowly, giving Celeste hope. She ran to the barrier, but it blocked her like a solid wall. She pushed up against it, used her red magic, tried breaking it with her sword—nothing worked. She watched in horror as Vritrus disappeared, surely by now near Monda.

  “I cannot say how long it will take for the monster to reach Monda,” Typhos said, a certain degree of glee in his voice. “It will not be immediate. It is not as fun that way. But if you wish to stop it…”

  Then he paused, and he gave an ominous laugh.

  “No, you cannot stop it. There is nothing you can do to stop it.”

  A crazy thought came to mind. It didn’t seem smart, but she didn’t have any other options.

  “Then perhaps you can, Typhos,” Celeste said. “Stop the madness. It’s just you and me. You’ve demonstrated how powerful you are. The people will respect your powers. You don’t need to prove anything anymore. I can help you—”

  “Silence!” Typhos yelled, and the barrier shattered with a loud clang.

  But when Celeste peered inside, she did not see him.

  Suddenly, the storms stopped. A bright light emerged from the heavens, and a blinding figure slowly descended. Celeste put her arm to her eyes, her sword in her hand, and felt a terrible knot in her stomach as the figure covered in radiant light reached the bottom. An evil laugh came from all around her, and Celeste knew that something terrible had happened to Typhos. His laugh sounded warped, and she could sense the magic of not just Nubia and Tapuya, but also Anatolus, within him.

  The figure rose from its knees, and the blinding light around it began to fade. It had no robes, but the dark, featureless mask, a long sword, a black body suit, and magic coursing through its body. Celeste had suspected who the figure was before, but now she had no doubt of him.

  Typhos.

  Our final battle.

  46

  This battle is never going to end.

  This war is never going to end, not as long as we’re alive.

  Crystil cursed as she saw the red Calypsius approaching with vengeance in its eyes and saliva dripping from its mouth, hungry to devour the three remaining ships. Even though she had destroyed the other two Calypsius monsters and eliminated most of Typhos’ ground forces, the commander’s patience was wearing thin. How could a monster have survived a submersion like the one this beast experienced? How many more trials would she have to experience? Was Celeste on the verge of defeating Typhos? Or was that battle not even close to happening?

  “Crystil,” Emperor Orthran said.

  The voice of her superior snapped her out of her funk. She reminded herself that fighting for herself and her own causes could only take her so far. But fighting for the Emperor, or for Celeste, or for Cyrus—somehow still standing after all that he had faced on the ground—could push her past fatigue and frustration.

  “Crystil, what should we do?” the Emperor said, his voice patient but concerned.

  “Stand by,” Crystil said, even though she saw that the monster would reach them in less than ten seconds.

  The creature had no wings, though its jaws and ferocious gaze had seemed to grow stronger underwater. The hatred in the eyes of the monster reminded Crystil of the look she had seen on Typhos’ one visible eye as she had raised her gun to kill him during their first battle on Monda.

  No wings mean we have the aerial advantage. So we take to the skies and dominate.

  “Pull up,” she yelled as she did just that. The Emperor and Garrus followed suit, climbing to the highest elevation they had yet reached. She looked out of the cockpit and saw each ship flanking her, the Emperor on the left and Garrus on the right. “We swoop in as a unit and throw two missiles each at it. That should knock it down. Aim for the face—if we take that out, the rest of the monster falls.”

  “Crystil, I…”

  The Emperor’s voice trailed off. Crystil had a feeling he wasn’t saying everything. Perhaps he did not feel it was his place, but it didn’t matter much. They didn’t have time to discuss the intricacies of their strategy, not with Cyrus on the ground in danger of a stray claw or breath of fire incinerating him.

  “Dive on my command,” she said.

  She looked on her visual display and saw the creature swiping at humans and Kastori on the ground. No time to waste.

  “Dive!”

  She tilted the Phoenix down and ignited the engines, increasing her descending speed toward the ugly
beast. She looked at her altitude, ten thousand feet, and decided to launch the missiles at a thousand feet. They’d have to bank up quickly at that point, but with the ship’s new capabilities, she knew they could pull it off.

  At six thousand feet, the Calypsius clone took notice of the three ships. It only glanced at them, though, and resumed annihilating forces on the ground. Crystil unleashed some bullets for good measure, knowing it wouldn’t do much damage but hoping it could distract the monster long enough to let some of the ground troops escape.

  Three thousand feet. Crystil’s eyes narrowed. The ship could not go any faster, and she readied herself to launch and pull up almost immediately.

  Two thousand feet. You die here, Calypsius. You and all of the terrible memories you gave me. Die!

  “Pull up and scatter!”

  Crystil heard the Emperor’s voice and squinted in disbelief. You’re crazy! Cyrus on the ground?!? You’re going to—

  “It’s going to use red magic to tear us apart. Split up!”

  Crystil swore loudly. He was right. She knew that’s why he had hesitated to speak. He didn’t want to overrule the commander—but at the last second, his survival instincts had kicked in.

  “You heard him, Garrus, move!”

  She brought the Phoenix up as fast as she could, just as the red Calypsius rose and snapped its jaws at the ship. She felt the ship creak as it struggled against the magical powers of the monster. Her ship lost power and began to fall to Monda. Crystil swore loudly as she did everything she could to kickstart the ship back up.

  But it was no use. She could not restart the ship, and it plummeted.

  As it fell, she saw the outline of the monster standing over her, then running away from her. Coward. Come back here. Let me look at you as I die.

  No. Crystil. Nothing you can do.

  Cyrus. Celeste. Emperor Orthran. Thank you. I—

  But then the ship lurched, coming to a halt, and Crystil nearly broke out of her belt. When she settled down, sure that she was not the victim of some mind trick, she looked out at the ground in front of her.

  There stood Cyrus, straining with his arms raised, holding the ship aloft about a dozen feet off the ground. Crystil just smiled at him. He had come through to rescue her once again. And he says that he plays no part in this mission.

  She reignited the engines, and with the monster no longer attending to her, she lifted back up, power restored. She gave a thumbs up to Cyrus, knowing he probably wouldn’t see it but mentally noting to reward him later.

  “Crystil!” Garrus said, laughing. “I should’ve known a girl who spends her time with magi… with Kastori might have a few tricks up her sleeve.”

  “It was a one-shot deal, Garrus,” Crystil said with warmth in her voice. “Let’s not waste it. Now then. We can’t attack the monster as a unit. So—”

  “We attack it randomly and without pattern,” the Emperor said.

  I’d say he’s earned the right to take over this portion of the battle.

  “Couldn’t agree more, sir,” Crystil said. “Garrus, you heard him. Use your radar to make sure you don’t hit one of us, but otherwise, attack this beast and let’s end the terror of Calypsius.”

  “Affirmative,” Garrus said, and the three fighters broke out in their own patterns.

  Garrus seemed intent on the most dangerous route, attacking the beast repeatedly, hitting it like an annoying bug flying in a human’s face. The Emperor took the subtle route, coming from the back and launching missiles at it. Crystil, on the other hand, waited for the right opportunity.

  She saw it after Garrus’ third pass.

  It had locked all of its attention on Garrus and ignored the humans and the other two ships. Crystil noticed that when the beast went to cast magic, it closed its eyes for about two seconds before launching a spell. She hovered a few hundred feet away, waiting for that chance.

  It closed its eyes.

  Crystil lurched the ship toward its head and fired the missiles, hoping that the endowment already chosen—ice—could damage the creature significantly.

  The beast opened its eyes at the same time the missiles collided with its head. It collapsed to the ground, woozy, one eye missing, and a massive chunk of its body destroyed.

  “All right, gentlemen, give our ground clean up crew a clear target in the chest,” she said.

  Seconds later, Garrus and the Emperor both launched missiles at the creature’s chest, creating a massive hole. Even from here, Crystil could see the beating heart of the monster. She also saw Cyrus running in with his sword and smiled.

  “OK guys, let’s clean up the rest of Typhos’ ground forces and come in for a landing.”

  The three made short work of the enemies with nothing left to distract or hunt them, and within five minutes, the battle had become a total victory for the humans and the Kastori.

  Most of the survivors roared in triumph, some holding the heads of their enemies in barbaric displays of victory. Though Crystil would never do such a thing herself—not even with the Kastori when they were magicologists to her—she couldn’t fault the humans for acting this way, not after all that war had done to them.

  But a few, including Cyrus, seemed transfixed on the sky. Crystil looked up but didn’t see anything unusual at first glance. She, Garrus, and the Emperor landed by Cyrus. Crystil got out and squeezed Cyrus and kissed him.

  “Thanks for saving my life,” Crystil said. “Again.”

  “Don’t talk too soon,” Cyrus said, concern palpable.

  He nodded to the sky, and Crystil then saw a small figure, much like a snake, slithering through the sky and space toward Monda.

  “What… what is that?” Crystil said, a nervous knot in her stomach.

  Cyrus gulped.

  “That is the end of us.”

  47

  We can’t defeat something like that. A creature a tenth of that size wiped out half our fighters. We have no shot against that.

  From their vantage point on Monda, Cyrus and the rest of humanity could only see the smallest of features on the monster in space—its slick, elongated shape, its ugly face, and its jaws. But with his sensing powers, Cyrus could see the beast in all of its ugliness. Its sheer size. Its movement through space. The power of its jaws. It wasn’t just the kind of beast that could destroy Capitol City. Capitol City wouldn’t even survive one tooth.

  It was designed to destroy Monda. And while humanity had rallied in tremendous fashion to defeat monsters it had already encountered, it had not prepared for a monster many times more dangerous than Calypsius. Calypsius looked like a harmless aviant compared to this monstrosity.

  He held Crystil tight, convinced that nothing more could be done. He held her lovingly, knowing she was the last person he would ever hold. His father could join, but the three of them were all they had. Celeste could not get back in time.

  Celeste…

  “I have to go to Anatolus,” he said, his mind racing as everything in his head pointed to the logical conclusion. “I have to help Celeste. We have to kill Typhos.”

  “Cyrus, no!” Crystil said with surprising emotion. “You know you can’t do anything there. You know you’ll die.”

  “And what in the name of Monda do you think is going to happen here?!?” he said, pointing to the sky. “One will kill me in, I’d guess based on my sensing, about forty minutes. The other might kill me quicker, but at least I’ll go down with a fight. I’m not dying without fighting, Crystil.”

  “I don’t expect you to,” she said with surprising calmness in her voice.

  Cyrus looked at the normally intense commander, who seemed unusually relaxed. Maybe it’s because she’s so close to death that she can be this way.

  “You’ve never given up fighting. It’s why I like you. Do you really think we’re going to quit here?”

  Cyrus shook his head.

  “I want you to take over one of the ships and fly up with us. You can use your magic to augment the powers of the s
hip. I don’t know how much good it’ll do, but—”

  “Those ships can fly to space?”

  Crystil nodded.

  “I don’t know what the fuel situation will be. Honestly, we may run out on the way back and have to drift back to Monda. But we don’t have a lot of options anymore.”

  Cyrus bit his lip. He had a sense of finality creeping in him no matter which we way he looked. He looked at the eyes of Crystil, which watered. His did too, and the two embraced and let the tears fall.

  “Make it quick, OK?” Crystil said through a sniffle. “Humanity is counting on us.”

  “No,” Cyrus said. “Humanity and Kastori are counting on us.”

  He pulled back and, not caring who saw, gave her a loving kiss, knowing it might be the last one. He held her lips to his for as long as he could, praying that such a moment would slow time and allow him to be with her forever.

  But it ended far too fast with Crystil gently pushing back.

  “We’ll do this again, I promise you,” she said.

  Liar, Cyrus thought with a smile. But he didn’t press back, deciding to live in the lie for the sake of the moment.

  “Crystil,” he said, not sure if he should say the words that he was thinking about saying. But he knew if something happened up there, he did not want her to die with the words coming from speakers in the jet. He wanted her to hear them while she looked into his eyes. “I love you.”

  Crystil gave a pleasant exhale as she squeezed him tightly. She didn’t say anything for several seconds, leading Cyrus to conclude that he had said the words too quickly. But it’s true. Not like we found each other yesterday. Been friendly now for months and just—

  “Love you too,” she said. “We’ll make sure we have more time to do this right later, OK?”

  Cyrus gave the OK, wiped away his tears, and pulled back as Crystil assumed an authoritative stance.

  “OK guys, one of you has to give up your spot.”

  “Pops,” Cyrus said. “Pops stays. With all respect, Garrus—”

  “I would have been offended if you had made me stay behind,” Garrus said with a chuckle that lacked the usual force but still provided a needed moment of levity. Cyrus dabbed away a tear, and he went to his father.