Kastori Revelations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 1) (7 page)

“Man, I’ve been cooped up in a space smaller than a fifth of the palace for over two years and you want to keep us here still?” Cyrus said, still standing on the console. “You’re the worst kind of torture!”

Cyrus waited for the laughs, but none came.

“You can go if you want, Cyrus, but do you really want to go explore a land you don’t know?” Crystil asked.

“What’s an adventure if not without some risk?” Cyrus said, smiling.

Crystil sighed and shook her head, though Cyrus swore a smile was there too.

“I’m excited like you, so I’ll forgive your cocky mouth, but just remember, we’re not on an adventure. We’re on a survival mission. If we happen to have adventure while doing it, well, so be it, but that’s not the mission.”

Cyrus opened his mouth, but the sight of Celeste pleadingly looking at him kept him quiet. He hopped down with both feet from the console and brushed himself.

“Every hero needs a good night’s sleep, I suppose,” he said.

He walked past Crystil, paused, and turned to her.

“Thanks for getting us here,” he said.

He finally got what he had privately wanted.

A smile directed at him. Not at Celeste, not at both of them. Just at him.

“Get some sleep. Our new lives start tomorrow.”

9

Celeste usually woke before anyone else, craving the alone time morning brought.

But tonight, with her new home just an airlock away, she couldn’t even sleep. She instead stood at the window of her room, grateful to finally see something besides blackness. It was the best kind of insomnia, like the night before a wedding.

She felt as if she could tell the difference between the artificial gravity on
Omega One
and the gravity of Anatolus. The only senses she could not yet fulfill were touch and smell, and she promised herself the second the sky turned a lighter shade of blue—even if it was still a dark, deep ocean blue—she would open the airlock in the belly of the ship and breath natural oxygen.

Excitement came too from seeing Cyrus and Crystil finally appreciating each other’s company. Crystil had smiled at his gratitude instead of brushing it off. He’d spoken sincerely, instead of nonsensically. Celeste now, thankfully, wouldn’t have to bring them together, since they already moved that way.

She put her hand on the window, and it felt lukewarm. It warmed her heart to touch something that faced the outside of the ship and wasn’t freezing.

Suddenly, a chorus of fleeing cries came from far away, like a flock of aviants migrating. It seemed odd that so many creatures would screech at night, and though she could not see individual animals, she could make out the general shadowy shapes flying away. They flew in a V-formation, and though than aviants on Monda, by no means were they monstrously gigantic.
Why would they fly away at night? Can they see? Wouldn’t they have waited until daylight?

An ominous rumbling, like one an airship would produce, sounded overhead, followed by a deep, prolonged growl. Celeste had a terrible feeling as the growl struck a deep, primal instinct that told her to run as fast as she could. She looked out the window but couldn’t see anything.

Then a much more pronounced roar, scarier than a balicae when fighting, ripped through the skies. Celeste backed away out of her quarters and looked at the rooms for Cyrus and Crystil. According to the tiles outside their rooms, both of them somehow slept through the monstrous sound.

“Oh no,” she said quietly to herself.

She made her way to the cockpit, thinking that would grant her a better view of whatever had produced the terrifying sound. She looked at the sky and noticed a section of the stars had gone pitch black.

Then the stars reappeared, and she realized she was looking at a massive creature. It was impossible to say just how high it was, but unless it was mere feet above them, it was truly a massive sight to behold, by far larger than
Omega One
or anything Celeste knew of. She gulped and sat down in the chair, refusing to budge, as if any movement would draw the attention of the monster and spell their doom.

“Cortanus,” she said, barely above a whisper. “What is that?”

“I do not know, Celeste,” it said, the voice coming out of only the tablet in front of her. “I did not pick up that creature on our approach. It may be nocturnal and have hidden from us as a result.”

“Oh,” she said nervously, folding her arms and watching with terror as the creature glided away. “Do you know anything at all about that creature? Anything?”

“No.”

Celeste nodded as the creature vanished, but its cries still echoed, some new, some old ones that looped in her head.

“And the ship? If it attacked, could it withstand it?”

“The ship was designed to be defended by the strongest materials on Monda. It can withstand fire attacks and bombs in a short span while grounded, but I would not suggest attacking a creature of that size head on, even if it is not a predator.”

That would be great but unlikely,
Celeste thought.
In any case, I’m on the safest spot in this planet.

I hope.

Even though the creature had vanished, it had struck a particularly terrifying note for Celeste who, because of Cyrus, had long believed in monsters in her childhood. Though just five years her elder, Cyrus often spooked her with stories of wild balicae stalking them.

The problem wasn’t not believing the stories. It was the timing and convincing fashion in which Cyrus would deliver them—at night when their father had gone to sleep, and with sound effects like hissing, roaring, and growling.

Even though she had long outgrown the stories, her past amplified the fear of seeing a real monster on their new home. She felt completely on edge, imagining the sounds of predators jumping on the ship, hunting her, Cyrus, and Crystil. She saw shadowy figures moving across the land in front of the ship. She thought she heard incomprehensible speech outside the ship and grew nervous that on night one, she had already lost her mind.

Perhaps I’m better off not being here. I’m just here because of who Dad is. Cyrus and Crystil, they’re the ones that matter. Not I. I’m just a tag-along, a third wheel. I don’t mean anything. I’ll drag them down. I’ll go insane and hurt the mission. The mission will be ruined. Crystil will be so upset. Cyrus can’t defend me at that point.

They’ll send me back to Monda. Back where no one’s alive. What if they are alive? No, they aren’t. They aren’t. Gone. Just like we will be if this thing finds us and kills us.

I should’ve stayed behind. I should’ve died with Dad. I wouldn’t be losing my mind like this.

The thoughts dragged on through the night, any hope of sleep well gone.

The monster did not appear again, though many times Celeste thought she saw blotches of stars vanish. But each time she did a double take, the stars glowed in the same spots as before. Only the brightening hue of the sky gave her reason to believe the creature had vanished.

The familiar, normally alarming sound of boots echoing through the hallway brought a welcome sense of normalcy to Celeste, who whirled around, waiting for Crystil to enter. When Crystil did, a bowl of food in her hand, she looked at Celeste, puzzled.

“What are you doing in here?”

Celeste, her arms folded, realized this was Crystil’s home on the ship.

“I don’t mind you being here,” she said, sensing Celeste’s uneasiness. “I just didn’t expect you. Are you OK?”

“Did you hear any of that… that horrible sound from last night? From the monster in the sky?”

Crystil looked befuddled at Celeste as if she couldn’t figure out if she were making a prolonged, well-acted joke.

“No, I slept the whole time. Didn’t wake up once.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Crystil said as she took the commander’s chair, much closer to Celeste. “You don’t look like you slept at all.”

“I didn’t.”

Crystil had no reaction. Though Celeste could usually figure out Crystil’s thoughts and emotions with uncanny accuracy, she couldn’t get a read on her.

“Celeste. If you can, get some rest. I’ll let you sleep four hours before I need your help.”

Though appreciative of the offer, Celeste sensed Crystil’s doubts.
She thinks she would’ve woken up if such a thing exists.

There’s one thing here that can’t lie.

“Talk to Cortanus, Crystil. There’s something horrible up there and I don’t like our chances against it.”

She dashed to her room and settled into her bed. Just as she pulled the blankets up, Crystil’s boots coming down the hall got her back up. Crystil walked in with an unusual amount of concern on her face.

“I just talked to Cortanus, Celeste. I’m sorry.”

Crystil stepped in to close the door.

“You know what I told you yesterday after training. I’m in the same boat as you, Celeste. I’m terrified. I’m mortified we’ll die inside that thing’s stomach. But let’s remember how much we don’t know. We’re making too many assumptions. We don’t even know if it’ll hunt us or attack the ship. The largest creature on Monda is a plant eater, you know. We can’t assume anything.”

Celeste understood. But even with wanting Crystil’s answers to be the sleep-inducing drug she needed, she couldn’t escape the fear.

“I understand,” Celeste said, craving some alone time.

Crystil pursed her lips, not believing the younger Orthran, but nodded in approval anyways.

“Good. We’ll begin exploring this planet in four hours. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Celeste had many answers to that, but none which anyone could fulfill. The door shut behind Crystil as the trembling roars from the previous night rattled inside Celeste’s mind.

10

Sleep became impossible for Celeste, as likely returning to Monda. The sounds the creature produced went far beyond her worst nightmares, and as the sky got brighter, the light in her room amplified the noise in her head.

After two and a half hours, she gave up and threw the covers off her bed. Eyes wide, she put on her boots and stood when she heard Crystil approaching. The feet stopped in front of Cyrus’ room, and Celeste heard the deliberate, hard knock on her brother’s door.

“Wake up, sleepy,” she said.

Celeste, confused, finished dressing and walked to Cyrus’ room. She couldn’t believe the commander didn’t sound like the commander. Crystil still stood authoritatively with her back straight. Cyrus laid in bed on his side.

“Cyrus, we need to start exploring the planet. And ideally, we need to do so during the day,” Crystil said, with no wavering in her voice.

“Why? Are we throwing a giant planet-warming party tonight to welcome ourselves?” he said as he kicked off his sheets and went to his closet to change.

“There’s a giant monster that hunts at night, Cyrus,” Celeste said. “It’s terrifying. It’s probably triple the size of the ship. At least.”

Cyrus paused, his back to them, and slowly turned to face the two women. His face looked grim, and Celeste felt the hot rush of panic hit her—if he felt this way…

“You’re telling me… there’s a creature that can destroy this ship by itself… and it comes out at night?”

Celeste grimly nodded. Crystil displayed no emotion, but Celeste could feel her tension.

Cyrus looked at both of them, bit his lip, and burst out laughing.

“Oh man, Celeste, I have to give you props, that’s a good one, I almost believed it with Crystil’s face! Is this revenge for all of the stories I made up? I bet you even have some sound effects for this monster!”

“Cortanus,” Crystil said.

Celeste turned to the display on Cyrus’ wall, which showed a replay of the previous night with the creature’s low roar. Cyrus’ laugh, which had started in response to a presumed joke, continued but quickly became a defense mechanism for the truth.

“Hahaha, oh man. We’re dead.”

He bowed his head, mumbling to himself as Crystil ended the replay. Seeing it again, Celeste wondered if she’d exaggerated the creature’s features. Even if so, the creature could crush them with its feet.

“We are if you think like that,” Crystil said. “Don’t make any assumptions. Maybe the creature will never notice us and won’t care. In the meantime, get ready. We’re going outside.”

Celeste perked up at the chance to finally leave the ship.

“Do we need any protection? Like for the atmosphere or anything like that? Just wondering since breathing might be tough and—”

“Shouldn’t be,” Crystil said, heading back to her quarters. “However, go to the armory by the training room before heading out. Grab some weapons just in case. Better to have an unfired gun than a bloodied body if we run into anything predatory.”

Celeste didn’t want the first moment contaminated by a reminder of Monda’s annihilation but could not find the counterargument.

She also knew she had to stop finding counterarguments. She told herself, walking to the armory, that she had to get more comfortable with war and fighting.
If fights come here, have to fight. Nowhere else to run. Dad’s army can’t protect. Crystil can’t do it alone. Be strong, Celeste. Own the gun.