Kastori Revelations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 1) (9 page)

“No, it’s fine. I’ll go.”

She sounds testy. I probably sounded testy. I should be a bit gentler. They aren’t following you. They’re not hunting you.

Crystil turned back just to make sure and saw no sign of the lupi.

“OK, thank you, Celeste.”

Everyone convened in the tight quarters of the airlock and immediately dispersed to their separate quarters for water and food supplies.

“Cortanus, speak to everyone on this ship. Talk about how long it’ll take.”

“Acknowledged,” Cortanus said. “Your commander has decided to go to the ocean, fifty miles west of here. The journey will take you the rest of today, and then most of tomorrow. Assuming you return immediately, you will be back here in two days time, in the evening. Just in case, however, it is recommended that you pack for four days of hiking. Do you have any questions?”

“Yeah, I do,” Cyrus shouted, Crystil figuring it was for her “benefit.” “We have a ship that can get there in a few minutes. Why are we going to walk?”

“Cortanus, I’ll take this,” Crystil said, darting to Cyrus’ room.

Her nerve was slipping, thanks in no small part to the delay in the expedition, the discovery of the nocturnal monster, and the encounter with the lupi. Adding in Cyrus’ sarcasm and defiance created a recipe for an explosion from Crystil.

“Our legs will last a lot longer than our fuel, Cyrus,” she said, annoyance palpable in her voice. “We may never use this ship again for flying. But if we do, we’re not going to do it when our legs suffice. As long as we stick together, we’ll survive.”

Cyrus said nothing, his lips curled in, and Crystil walked out.

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

She paused and her body tensed up. She did not dare turn around, lest she lose her cool.

Instead, she stormed to the cockpit, not subtle in her footsteps. She breathed slowly, let out a long sigh, and nodded.

“I’m good.”

She walked out and met Cyrus and Celeste at the airlock. Both had their backpacks and rifles.

“You guys are prepared,” she said.

“We always are,” Celeste said. “Even if some of us take more time than usual.”

Cyrus gave a short laugh, and Crystil told herself to give him a longer leash as the door shut behind her and the pod opened up below.

12

Crystil ran through a quick mental checklist of her supplies as the pod descended to the ground.

Four days of water. Four days of food. An assault rifle with two hundred rounds. A knife. A small container for any materials they would collect.

She had them all. Feeling in control, she felt less stressed. The three of them talked about their favorite places to eat in Monda and their favorite vacation spots, but when two miles turned into five, which turned into ten, the conversation turned into sheer silence.
One foot in front of the other. Keep the forest to the right. Listen for anything unusual. Stay focused.

Crystil didn’t mind, having years of experience going silent for hours, if not days, for a mission. But she could see the frustration building in the impatient Cyrus and the concerned Celeste.

“Does this ever end?!?” Cyrus said.

“Think of it as a chance to enjoy the views, Cyrus. Hiking’s an opportunity to do that,” Crystil said from the front.

“Hiking is a four or five-hour endeavor with ever-increasing better views, not flatlands!”

Crystil just focused on her walk, leaving Celeste to calm Cyrus. They soon resumed conversation again, but only for a half a mile before the silence kicked in again.

When the sun set, by Crystil’s estimation, they’d made it about seventeen miles.
Tomorrow’s gotta start early, and we can’t stop. We may need that fourth day of supplies.
Nevertheless, with the burnt red backdrop that the sunset produced, along with the confidence that a full day could get them to the ocean, Crystil stopped.

“We’ll stop here for the night. I recommend sleeping in the trees. The branches are thick enough to rest on comfortably and high enough to stay away from danger on the ground. Take your bags up.”

She began climbing before either Orthran responded. Even when Celeste came up, Crystil didn’t stop, already at the third branch.

“What about the big monster in the sky?”

“Better up here surrounded by vegetation than out in the open,” Crystil said, knowing that just meant terrible odds became marginally bad odds.

She climbed what felt like a hundred feet before stopping. The branch provided plenty of support, and she knew as long as she laid on her side she wouldn’t fall. Cyrus scaled ahead of Celeste and settled in ten feet below Crystil. By the time all three of them had rested on their back, the sun had disappeared, leaving behind some light on the west side of the planet but a growing darkness on the east. A disquieting silence set in as Crystil waited for the creature to appear.

“Crystil, how often do you think of Monda?”

Celeste’s question mercifully distracted Crystil.

“More than I care to admit,” she said, trying to sound warm. “Honestly… I sometimes think of Dyson and I back at home.”

“Sometimes?” Celeste asked innocently.

Crystil smiled and acknowledged the underselling of the statement.

“I try not to. I can’t bring him back. But…”

She sighed. Fighting her feelings was pointless.

“I just think of the time we went to the
Reygar Mountains
for our honeymoon. Let me tell you, Celeste, that is a gorgeous place with beautiful views.”

“I know!” Celeste said excitedly, and for just a bit, Crystil enjoyed reminiscing. “My father took us when we were kids. He loved that place. Well, if he’d seen what we have here, he’d think that wasn’t even a warm-up!”

“It’s a warm-up for me,” Cyrus said.

Celeste and even Crystil laughed. Their laughter slowly died, leading to a pleasant sigh from Celeste.

“Cyrus, I don’t know what I would do without you here,” Celeste said. “I would’ve probably just quit a while ago. But you’ve always been there for me, and I know you’ll be there always.”

Crystil listened intently. It was a different kind of love, sibling love, than romantic love, but the commitment and bond were just as unbreakable.

“I know, Celeste. I’ll keep making jokes that upset Crystil and hold you tight when you need it.”

Crystil smiled and laughed to show her appreciation. She rolled over as the two siblings continued talking and yearned for that connection again.
The connection from deep love.

As it stood, only two people were going to be able to give that to her. One of whom she was getting close to, but in the big sister role.

The second was more bizarre. Just thinking of Cyrus in that amatory light felt so odd it felt gross, perhaps a bit unfathomable. But she knew just a few days before, she could’ve killed him in anger if Celeste hadn’t expressed so much horror. She no longer wanted to do that.

She turned her attention to the stars, focusing on trying to create constellations from her new vantage point in the universe. She could imagine balicaes, gigantes, lupi, and many other creatures. If she tried, she could even imagine Dyson up there, smiling down.

Despite not believing in the afterlife, with so much destruction and ruins in her life, even Crystil could let her mind imagine her deceased husband in the sky.

No monster appeared that night. The stars never disappeared from view. Aside from some gentle animal vocalizations on the ground, no growls or cries reached Crystil’s ears. Within just a couple hours of the sun setting, Crystil drifted into her dreams, where she didn’t have to imagine Dyson—she could actually hug him and touch him.

13

Cyrus slowly woke up with his head pressed against the tree to see Celeste and Crystil had already descended. He looked below and saw the two women talking and joking. He wished that he could have that amusing, intelligent, and funny banter with Crystil, but couldn’t see a way to get there.

He rose, imagining himself doing acrobatic flips and landing on the ground with an exaggerated bow.

“Yo ladies!” he said. “Wanna watch me be Anatolus’ greatest acrobat and descend a hundred feet in ten seconds?”

“No!” Celeste shouted, which brought laughter from Cyrus.

“Relax,” he yelled, his hands gesturing downward. “I’ll come down in eleven seconds.”

He laughed again but climbed down cautiously except for the last branch, from which he jumped down. He landed with a deep bend of the knees, stumbled forward, caught himself, and took the exaggerated bow. Celeste crossed her arms and shook her head, her bangs unable to hide her grin. Crystil looked like she was trying to suppress a smile.

“Great, kid, don’t get cocky,” she said as she walked to the plains.

“Kid? Kid?!? There’s only one kid here, and it’s—”

“You!” Celeste and Crystil said together.

Cyrus shrugged, admitting the truth, and the walk to the ocean resumed.

Though silence became the theme of the walk, Cyrus had had enough. He wanted to know more about what Crystil was talking about the previous night. He hesitated, wondering if what he was doing was smart, but spoke before he overthought the matter.

“So, tell me about Dyson.”

Crystil grimaced, but not angrily.

“He was a pilot for the empire. I met him in training, and we stayed in touch and eventually became a couple. He taught me how to fly, I taught him close quarters combat. It was a great relationship.”

“What made him so great? What about him?”

“I—”

Crystil paused.

“I’ll tell you more when we’re back at the ship and don’t have to watch for unknown dangers.”

Cyrus knew he’d gotten everything he could. He retreated to Celeste, letting Crystil take the lead by about a dozen feet. Celeste gave him a knowing look, but he kept his mouth shut.

They marched for many more hours, not even stopping to eat—instead, Crystil ordered them to eat as they walked. Cyrus hated the taste of cold vegetables and eggs and considered tossing the ration, but didn’t want to face his leader’s wrath. The sun and temperature became an issue, but neither Orthran wanted to be the weak one who couldn’t keep up with Crystil.

Finally, as the sun had an hour left in the sky, Cyrus smelled it. The wind carried a misty scent which took him back home to the beaches of Monda. The air felt crisper, and the winds blew more frequently. He smiled broadly, and shouted, “Water!” Celeste’s and Crystil’s expressions glowed at the word.

The sound of the waves from over a hill came. Cyrus sprinted up the hill, higher than it looked from a distance. His legs burned, but not nearly as much as his desire to have a lifetime supply of water. He got to the top and paused when he reached a cliff about thirty feet high.

“Really,” he said, but his anger dissipated when he looked left and saw a path to the beach. He quickly descended and paused in front of the water.

“Wow,” he said, his voice softening. “And to think, this stretches out over almost all of the planet.”

He laughed when it hit him how much he had yet to explore.
Maybe civilizations in the sea. Why not? Or in the mountains. We haven’t explored anything here!

He turned to see Crystil reaching into her backpack for a containerwhile Celeste gawked. Cyrus, wanting the first taste, put his hands in the water, cupped a mouthful, and swallowed it.

“Cyrus!” Crystil yelled. “You gotta let us test it!”

Salty.

Too salty.

“I don’t think this is drinkable,” he mumbled.

He again reached down. Concentrating on the water running over the bumps of his tongue not only reinforced the saltiness, but it also enhanced it. He sighed and stood up, his face in a tight, disappointed expression.

“So, uh, we’re pretty much screwed,” he said, his hands thrown up in defeated acceptance. “We got three years left on this planet, and we’re dead. Good game. Good effort.”

“Wow, hey, Cyrus, easy,” Celeste said. “Maybe the ship can change this into drinking water. Or maybe there are sources of drinking water we haven’t found.”

“She’s right,” Crystil said as she walked past them, scooping water into her container. “I can’t promise that
Omega One
can transform this into real water, but it can pull off some impressive feats. Let’s not dig our graves until we know it’s the only thing left.”

Cyrus, generally cheerful around Celeste, would have none of it. All the negative events avalanched. He had no water, his commander hated him, the planet wanted to kill him, his sister was afraid, and he had lost his father. Insanity had begun to control his mind.

“Yeah, OK, so we get drinking water. Then what? We still have Death incarnated flying above us, waiting to kill us the moment we—”

“Wasn’t there last night,” Crystil interjected, clearly annoyed.

“So we won the first night. Great. And the minute it shows up tonight, we lose. Or we kill it, and a new threat pops up. I’m not seeing the point.”