Kastori Restorations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 4) (17 page)

The dawn came, and the sun crested over the peak of Mount Ardor.

Typhos knew what he would do the minute his eyes fluttered open.

He could not surrender.

To do so was to admit defeat, not just in his battle with his siblings but in everything he had put his life around. He could no longer call himself the most powerful being in the universe. He would finally, completely, and totally give up his pursuit of the title “savior.” He would admit to not being the strongest of Aida’s offspring.

Perhaps it is a death wish to continue. That may, in fact, be a good thing. But I would rather die trying to become the Kastori I am supposed to be—and bring down Celeste and Cyrus in the process—than admit failure.

He let himself sit on the thoughts for an hour, wanting to make sure he had come to the right choice. He knew that even if he surrendered, he would still go for Tapuya. He could not surrender his role as the most powerful being in the universe.

And if he did that, there could be no surrender. No one would accept him alive. They would kill him.

He went to the peak. Wanting to bring things to a possible end, he invited Celeste to view the world through his eyes, and he teleported to Tapuya.

“Tapuya is mine,”
he messaged her, and he meant it.

He thought of all the hateful, terrible things that had occurred in his life.
Adanus. Aida. The council. Monda. My Kastori. The guardians. Gaius. Hanna. All have betrayed me. All have fueled my anger. My anger fuels me. I will take Tapuya. I will take the world!

With his anger having fully taken over his mind, Typhos advanced toward the source of the power, making sure to go at a pace that would allow the Orthrans to catch him before he reached his goal.

28

Crystil carried another hunk of metal toward the ship, but even with another night of little sleep, she did so without wobbly legs or blurry eyes. She had a grin she could not get rid of and thoughts that she enjoyed repeating in her mind.
I’ve lost my mind, haven’t I? And if I have, how great it is. That moment when I thought we’d ended it, and he called me over and said I was relieved of my duties…

That was awesome. I needed that. I wanted that. I’m so glad we actually got there.

As she placed the hunk of metal down, she briefly commanded a Kastori to weld the material together with another piece of metal. Once she had spoken, her mind shifted once more to Cyrus. In some ways, he seemed like an unusual pick. He was younger, not exactly the paradigm of discipline, and was prone to being too carefree. But he also had an incredible streak of loyalty and focus when he needed it, traits which Crystil knew would serve him well. At the critical moments—the battles with Calypsius and Typhos, the rescue of his sister—the joking Cyrus disappeared in favor of the single-minded Cyrus. Such a switch, as needed, would come in handy in their relationship.

Thinking about that already, aren’t you. Relationship. Hah. You’re crazy. You’ve had one night with him.

And yet, it’s kind of fun. It’s a pleasure to be thinking of him in this way. Given the alternative is to focus on war… maybe it’s a good thing to let the mind run wild a bit. Once battle comes, I’ll have someone I can fight for with even more energy.

Just… when you go to Tapuya, you’d better come back. Won’t be as safe as Vostoka. I’ll fight a lot harder knowing you’re waiting for me when the battle is done.

She grabbed more metal, bringing it back to the ship. She saw an older couple speaking, their bodies exhausted, covered in black dirt and soot, but their eyes loving for each other. Crystil smiled as she walked by, the sight of them reminding her of what her future with Cyrus might be.

It’s nice to think this way. Ever since…

Dyson.

Remembering the pain she’d felt at his loss—pain which she had never fully expressed to anyone—reminded her to slow down. It was also a reminder that she had a long, intense, difficult road ahead of her if she and Cyrus were to become anything. She and the oldest Orthran had simply consummated a fiery lust for each other in a single passionate night. She and Dyson had forged an indestructible relationship over years of commitment, honesty, and trust before they finally became one in marriage. The bond of lusting friendship—
which is what we are, be real—
differed greatly from the bond of romantic love. One brought mostly exciting, intense, and fleeting moments of ecstasy with the occasional hopeful or frustrating moment. The other could make or break Crystil’s entire emotional state with a single conversation.

Just take it slow. Smile. Keep doing what you did, because that was too much fun not to do again. But remember how much you invested in Dyson. And now he’s gone. You can commit further when the war ends.

If you aren’t committed too far already with the previous half-year under your belt.

She dropped the metal at the ship and nodded to the Kastori.

“Go ahead and place this on top of the wing,” she said. “I can…”

Her voice trailed off when she saw Celeste and Cyrus walking outside quickly, barely glancing back at the warehouse. She gulped and felt a pit in her stomach. She knew if she waited, they would disappear, and her last encounter with Cyrus would’ve been her ignoring him in the kitchen on the naive hope Celeste wouldn’t notice anything. But if she went—

“I’ll be back,” she said, unwilling to live with herself if she didn’t say anything. “Just build the right wing. Give me five minutes.”

She sprinted through the warehouse, weaving through humans and Kastori alike meandering to their construction sites. Cyrus and Celeste disappeared from view, and she picked up her speed. She broke through the entrance and saw them holding hands at the bottom of the hill, about to teleport together.

“Wait!” she cried out. “Cyrus! Celeste!”

Cyrus released his hand and turned back, a smile slowly creeping on his focused face. Celeste turned as well, and a knowing smile came to her.
So, she knows. We didn’t have to do that back in the kitchen.

Crystil slowed her sprint down as she came to the two siblings. She nodded, took two seconds to slow her breathing, and placed her hand on both of them.

“You can’t leave for a new world without saying goodbye,” she said.

“Typhos already teleported there,” Celeste said.

Then they have to go. You can’t prolong their stay.

Crystil paused half a beat to look into each of their eyes. Celeste’s eyes, though ready for battle, still maintained that warm understanding from seeing Crystil chase after them. She somehow melded compassion with fiery determination into her gaze. She also had that same slightly green aura to them from Vostoka.

Cyrus’ eyes looked so focused that she felt she had never reached that level. She knew what the gaze meant—
I will not fail. I will return. For you.

I don’t have time to tell them strategy. They don’t need it. They know everything I could possibly want them to know.

She turned to Celeste first, squeezing her as tightly as she could as she let out a long gasp. Neither girl said anything as the hug continued longer than Crystil expected, Celeste showing no desire to get away.

“Come back alive, OK?” Crystil finally said when she sensed the hug wasn’t going to be quick. “Regroup here before we go after Typhos.”

“I’ll be back,” Celeste said with such confidence Crystil’s doubts vanished.

She pulled back with a knowing smile and turned to Cyrus. The two had warm smiles on their face but seemed unsure exactly what to do.

“Guys, I know,” Celeste said. “Really? Kiss.”

Crystil laughed to relieve tension as Cyrus grabbed her and kissed her gently. They had looped back to the tender style of kiss that had initiated the night before. Crystil appreciated it—it calmed her more than a passionate, stormy kiss would have.

When the kiss ended, Cyrus pulled her in tight, and both pressed their bodies against each other so tightly that she felt sewn to his body.
If I’m going to take it slow… no, screw it. I’m not going to take it slow. This is a build-up of six months. Cyrus…

Come back. Come back alive. I don’t want to imagine a world where I lose two men I care about greatly in battle.

“I’ll be back,” Cyrus said, probably sensing her mind. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m Cyrus Orthran, remember.”

The words brought another round of comforting laughs from Crystil.

“Oh lovely, I never knew your full name could save you,” Crystil said, patting his shoulder hard. “You got a lot of good qualities, Cyrus. But you’re not perfect. Let’s work on the ego some.”

“Tell you what, we win the war, and I promise to be more humble.”

“I feel like that would make you even cockier,” she said, and they both laughed as Crystil grabbed him in for one last kiss. “Go beat Typhos. Come back. Promise.”

Cyrus raised his eyes brows and nodded.

“I promise,” he said. “Bye, Crystil.”

Their hands remained together as long as they could muster before he stepped too far out of reach, back to Celeste so they could teleport. But there was one thing Crystil would refuse to do.

“Not saying goodbye, Cyrus. Not yet,” Crystil said.

I said goodbye to Dyson. You are not going the same way as he.

She watched as the two closed their eyes and their bodies slowly disappeared from view. She waited until their bodies vanished completely, as if never present, and smiled at the memory that the two of them had just created.

You had your moment. Now it’s time to prepare.

She replayed the previous minute in her scene one more time, then whirled back to the warehouse, her mind clear and her body strong as she resumed building the ships necessary to defeat Typhos forever.

29

When Cyrus opened his eyes, his hands immediately went to his sword as he heard the sounds of dozens of wild creatures echoing through a damp forest.

Around him, trees rose, aviants of different colors flew, creatures he had never seen before grazed and slithered across the ground, flowers bloomed, and other monsters took a dive in a nearby swamp.

“You remember that simulation we did where I freaked out and almost got killed by a balicae?” Celeste said. “I’m pretty sure that was Tapuya, just looking here.”

Cyrus took a glance behind him and to the sides. He walked forward about a dozen feet, mindful of the crunching underneath his feet and any surprise critters in the area.

“Except there are no open plains,” he said.

Then he screamed.

He felt something massive crawling along his leg and he kicked himself in the shin repeatedly.

An arachnia, nowhere near the size of the ones on Anatolus but still large enough to take up about a third of his shin, had crawled up on him. Cyrus brushed it off and stomped it repeatedly, his body shaking in fear and frustration.

“Typhos can have this world, I’m not interested anymore, tha—”

He stopped when a giant insect flew in front of him. He swung his hands rapidly and could not get rid of the bug, about the size of his face with red skin and black horizontal stripes across its body. He unsheathed his sword and swung it wildly, eventually colliding with the insect and bringing it to the ground. Cyrus cut it in half as he yelled.

“Cyrus!” Celeste said, grabbing his arm. “Calm down. The best thing we can do is ignore the wildlife here. If we don’t attack it, it probably won’t attack us.”

No way. No way. You see the size of these things?

Cyrus closed his eyes, took an exaggerated breath, and shook his body as he breathed out.

“OK, I’ll take your word for it. Even though neither of us have ever visited.”

“Just… sister’s intuition, OK?”

“I hate how often that’s been right.”

Celeste smirked as she pointed in the direction Cyrus had gone.

“I can sense the magic in that direction. It’s actually not too far. We should be able to make it in less than an hour. I’ll get the magic, and we’ll run.”

Cyrus had already known that would happen, but it still gnawed at him.
Remember how you can help. Remember how you can help.

“And Typhos?”

Celeste shook her head.

“I can’t sense him specifically. I feel him here, but I can’t say if he’s five feet away or five miles away. Just…”

She reached down and unsheathed her own sword. The sight put Cyrus on alert as his grip tightened on his own sword. He endowed it with a fire spell and swung his eyes across the forest. He looked up, analyzing every tree branch that he could. He didn’t see the evil one, but there were also far too many branches and trees to keep track of.

“He’s not here,” Celeste said. “Not in this immediate area. But we’ll see him. Just stay alert.”

The two then began their slow crawl through the forest. Cyrus did his best to ignore the face-sized insects and the rainbow-colored aviants, but he began to debate which posed more of an immediate threat, the creatures or Typhos.
It’s much closer than it should be.