Chapter 2

Aquaphobia

Deep in the rain forested hills outside of ThornTail Hollow, Krystal Zonoc felt more at ease with herself and her surroundings than she had in months. As a girl she'd grown up in a small town, with no building higher than three stories, and with lush jungle mountains on one side, and the ocean on the other. Her world had been far from primitive, but it had taken a different path from Lylat. Her people had always lived as simply as possible, and Krystal found that Sauria, where the dinosaurs were largely unconcerned with the goings on outside of their atmosphere, and were instead committed to grazing and sleeping, was more familiar and relatable to her than the busy streets of Corneria City, or the rough frontier settlements of Katina.

Vaulting over a fallen log Krystal felt her boots sink into the moist earth beneath her with a smile. It was so much like her own world, Cerinia. That place was lost to her forever, and it still brought with it a pang of bitter sadness, but lately it had come with its own sweetness as well. She had lost her home, only to be welcomed into the arms of a second. Sauria, and Lylat as a whole, were now the place that her mind thought of when someone asked where her home was, but where her heart rested was somewhere else.

"When is Fox getting here?" the dinosaur next to her asked.

Wagging her tail, Krystal said, "He'll get here soon, Tricky."

Prince Tricky, now one of the leaders of Dinosaur Planet, had been a friend to her and Fox for what felt like a long time, but, oddly enough, hadn't been much more than a year. He'd grown significantly since their first meeting during the Saurian Crisis, and Krystal could have easily ridden on him to the object of their little expedition, but she'd felt more inclined to walk. The exercise did her good, and it seemed rude to ride on Tricky when she didn't need to, and when he hadn't offered.

"How soon is soon?"

"Probably today," Krystal said. That was assuming his hearing hadn't gone long, and that nothing else had come up in the aftermath. Try as he might Fox wasn't going to be able to dodge the journalists and fan mobs forever. I wonder how many phone numbers he'll have when he gets here, she thought ruefully. Her scrapbook could very well turn into a library if they did anything else heroic. And not just the phone numbers he got. The number of men who hit on her was truly astonishing. On Cerinia she might have punched them for propositioning her, though on Corneria that would have been considered assault, so she'd restrained herself. Besides, the ensuing media circus wouldn't have been worth it.

"What time today?" Tricky asked.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Krystal said, "I'm not sure. We'll see."

"Can you call him and ask him?"

If she weren't telepathic Krystal might have assumed that Tricky's eagerness to have Fox arrive was because he didn't enjoy her company. If that were the case she might even have been a bit insulted. As it stood though she knew that it stemmed more from the fact that Tricky, despite his size, was still in many ways a child. He always complained that Fox treated him like one, and it was a continuing dispute between them when Fox would finally stop doing that. Fox said it would be when he stopped acting like one, and Tricky argued that he had and, well, it was like arguing with a child.

"I could, but I'm not going to. He'll be here when he gets here." Tricky muttered something and Krystal laughed. Sometimes he forgot she could speak Saurian as well as the natives. "Why don't you tell me more about where it is we're going?"

"Oh! Yeah!" Tricky nodded, and the sun caught on the jeweled headpiece he wore. It still amazed her that he was royalty. For whatever that meant on Dinosaur Planet. "The Krazoa said they lost something in a cave around here. Some old temple? Something like that."

"And what is it?" Krystal asked. A lot of people might have been shocked to think of the Krazoa as having lost something. Many Lylatians labored under the misconception that, because they were made of magical energy and could manipulate dark matter, they were somehow omnipotent gods. Nothing could be further from the truth. They had plenty of their own weaknesses, and unlike a god they did not know all and see all.

"A gemstone I think."

"You think?" Krystal frowned. "Tricky, this is kind of important."

"It's a gemstone. Solid emerald. They said it was...keyed to telepathic winds?" Tricky scrunched his features in concentration. "Yeah. Yeah, that's what they said."

"Huh." Krystal took Tricky at his word. If she couldn't find it she'd fly out to Krazoa Palace and get the information herself. The Krazoa would understand. They were peaceful and well intentioned spirits. Although those good intentions had, on occasion, been used to manipulate them. It sickened her to think of how Andross had tricked the spirits into capturing her and reviving him. Perhaps some good had come out of it though. If not for her imprisonment she might never have met Fox, and in her mind the gain of meeting Fox, and falling in love, and being able to rest in his arms when they were together, was worth any amount of suffering. "Telepathic winds. I'm not sure I've ever heard of them."

Tricky didn't say anything. He knew about as much about the Krazoa as most dinosaurs did. Which was to say not a terribly large amount. They knew that, through some means of dark matter manipulation the spirits kept Sauria from bursting into pieces, and that the Krazoa had always served as mediators between the tribes to prevent conflicts from arising, but how all of this was accomplished, or even how the Krazoa truly existed, was as beyond them as it was beyond most of the rest of Lylat.

As for 'telepathic winds' Krystal couldn't offer much insight. She was the most knowledgeable person alive when it came to matters of psionics and telepathy, but that was really only because she was, as far as she knew, the only person who was alive that had any actual experience with it. She'd only been a novice when her planet was lost, and she felt keenly the loss of that knowledge and wisdom. There was a great deal she had never been taught, and even more out there that she knew had yet to be discovered.

About half an hour more of hiking and they reached the spot that Tricky had been told about. Krystal took stock of it. It really was more of a cave than a temple. There were a couple of columns standing at odd angles, and a small stone archway overgrown with moss. Stepping forward she took her staff from the belt of her purple jumpsuit and extended it with a flick of her wrist. She felt the cool trickle of awareness in the back of her skull as the staff linked to her mind, ready to accept her commands at the speed of a thought. Within it she sensed the lingering presence of Fox, his time with the staff having left quite an impression. His control over it had been remarkable for someone who had never wielded a Cerinian weapon before, but it paled in comparison to her own, just as hers paled in comparison to the old masters on her lost world.

Warming the jewel within the top of the staff Krystal set it against the moss and slowly burned it away, revealing the words carved into the stone. As the last of the green overgrowth fell away she ran her claws along the Krazoa symbols, sounding them out under her breath. Krazoa did not always come naturally to her. There were hundreds of dialects, alphabets, and symbols, and she knew only the most common by heart. This one was a bit more obscure, but she managed to recall enough of it to read aloud, "The Winds travel along the Sky and under the Ground, finding those who are lost, and those who are found."

"What does that mean?" Tricky asked, cocking his head.

"I'm not sure." Krystal shrugged. It could mean anything. The Krazoa tended to be vague and inscrutable, though they did give relatively clear instructions when it came to their tests for the pure of heart. "Like I said, the telepathic winds are not something I'm really familiar with."

"What should we do?" Tricky glanced around.

"You wait out here," Krystal said, willing her staff to generate a light. "You won't fit through the arch."

"You're going down there?" Tricky sounded shocked.

Arching an eyebrow Krystal said, "It's what we're here for. An emerald you said?" Tricky nodded. "Back in a bit."

Stepping through the arch Krystal's boots hit a narrow stone stairway. It definitely led underground then. She kept her staff in front of her, lighting the way as she descended into the darkness. It was warm and humid, and the air moved with surprising speed. Her hair drifted occasionally, and the scent was not that of a dank, lifeless cave. She could smell flowers and plants and soft earth, the aromas wafting up from further down.

The hand that didn't hold her staff she kept pressed against the wall to help with her balance, and her tail had arched unconsciously for the same purpose. Against her palm and fingers the wall stone felt cool and damp, and she could feel dirt between the stones, even the soft petals of wallflowers. The stones were stacked on top of one another without mortar of any sort, just precisely cut and, if the psionic resonances she could feel were any indication, reinforced with Krazoan magic. At least she didn't have to worry that the tunnel would collapse.

One thing she did need to worry about was the possibility of traps. The Krazoa had a thing for traps. She wasn't certain what the original reasoning was, but she surmised that they had been conscious of the power of their artifacts, and had defended them accordingly.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs she set foot on even ground and dimmed the light at the end of her staff. A soft orange glow filled the corridor, lit by torches that were either magical themselves, or were maintained by a housekeeping staff that no one had discovered yet. Along the walls were some of the traditional symbols of the Krazoa, including the scarab beetle that the dinosaurs used as a sort of currency. Krystal shivered. She hated bugs. She'd spoken from the heart during the mission to Katina when she'd exclaimed, "They just don't let go. Ugh they're disgusting!"

Resuming her march with careful steps Krystal reached out with her all her senses, but especially the sixth, her telepathy. Krazoan traps often gave off a danger warning that telepaths could pick up, a byproduct of the magical nature of the Krazoa. Poor Fox had had to rely on his own instincts, and a not insignificant amount of luck. The number of scars he'd shown her that had come from Krazoa shrines had far outnumbered any other cause.

Her eyes jerked up as she sensed the trap an instant before she triggered it. A six spoked wheel was embedded in the ceiling, and she'd been an inch away from passing under it. A flamethrower. "Why is it always flamethrowers?"

Ah well, easily solved. Using her staff to project an umbrella shield above her head she nimbly hopped over the stone beneath it. The trap triggered anyway, but the flames glanced harmlessly off the shield. Once she had cleared it the flames terminated, and she collapsed her shield.

At the end of the corridor two doors branched off. One had a stairway leading up, and one remained level, but continued off in a different direction. Krystal paused to consider which route to follow. Krazoa shrines tended to be rather linear, at least the ones she and Fox had explored. Which way?

A breath of wind ruffled her hair and tail from the door with the upward leading stairs. Deciding that was as good a sign as any she prepared to head up, but before that she used her wristcomm to start monitoring her position. No sense getting lost, though she had full confidence that her sense of direction could lead her back out again.

She took the stairs cautiously, always waiting for the next danger sign. Each step was narrow, barely large enough for her foot. Good thing she hadn't worn heels today. Putting her staff back on her waist she leaned down and went up on all fours. She'd have to crawl back down on her behind, but that was better than slipping and breaking her neck.

Straightening up again at the top of the stairs she paused and stretched out with her telepathy. There it was. There was a trap in here. Her first instinct was to look at the floor, but she didn't see anything at first glance. Crouching down she took a closer look and spotted it. The stones making up the floor were about an inch higher than the stone she was on, just in front of the steps. A thought occurred to her and she looked at the walls and swore. In the flickering torchlight she could make out hundreds of tiny holes in the wall, each of them no doubt loaded with poison darts. Or just darts. Either one would kill her in those numbers.

Leaning down even further she tried to determine if it was only certain stones that were raised or...yep, it was all of them. Another colorful oath escaped her muzzle. The whole floor was a pressure trap. This would require a creative solution.

What did she have that could counteract this? Her first instinct was to use another umbrella shield, but if she used it to cover her entire body she wouldn't be able to move. If she used it to cover only part of her body she would be dead or severely injured, so that approach was a nonstarter.

Perhaps her groundquake? If she could use it to exert pressure on every one of the tiles at once she could set the whole trap off and then run through it once it was out of ammunition. Then it occurred to her that she had no idea how much ammunition the thing had, and that if it was magic there was no reason to assume it didn't have an infinite amount. She also didn't fancy shaking the ground all that much when she was presumably still under it. That staircase hadn't been that high, and besides, the Krazoa had been known to bend the laws of physics on occasion. She could be deeper now than she was when she had been at the bottom of the steps.

What could she use? What did she have that could reliably stop the darts, and wouldn't bring the whole place crashing down around her?

When the solution hit her after a moment's consideration she almost laughed. Taking out her staff once more she willed it to project the coldest, thickest ice blast it could. The blast itself reached far enough ahead of her that she could cover a good portion of the wall from where she was. Waving it ahead of her she smiled as the ice crackled and formed a glittering barrier along the walls, unaffected by the magical torches, none of which gave off any real heat.

Once the ice had reached a point that it seemed thick enough Krystal stepped back and then pressed the end of her staff against one of the tiles. It descended into the floor and a moment later she heard the tinkling sound of ice impacts, but no darts came sailing out. With a smile she stepped confidently onto the tiles. No more sounds, which meant the darts were now getting stuck inside their holes. A smile on her face she wagged her tail at her own ingenuity, then set about icing the rest of the hall. With any luck the ice would stay there until she had gotten back through, but she decided that if she came this way again she would give it a nice topping off just to be sure.

Having crossed that room she found herself at the top of another flight of stairs, this time one that spiraled down to an inky depth. Using her staff to light her way she began to descend, moving slowly and carefully. Once again, torches began to flicker on as she walked, and she gained a sense of just how deep down this place went when none of them could light the bottom.

Around her the wind kicked up, and she paused for a moment to try and get a sense of where it was coming from. Licking her thumb she put it to the air, and to her shock she felt nothing. Even as her hair whipped around she felt no impact of the breeze against her wetted thumb. "Telepathic winds." Her hair was moving of its own accord, attuned to the psionic winds emanating from this long forgotten shrine.

When she reached the bottom her boot sank into warm water. She brought the light on her staff back and held it out in front of her. As far as she could see were the waters of an underground lake. Her nose twitched at the scent of the water, clean and fresh. Something caught her eye.

Turning towards it she smiled when she saw the pulsing beacon of green beneath the surface. The water rippled out from it. If that wasn't her target she didn't know what was. Setting her staff against the column that the steps wound around Krystal unzipped her jumpsuit and quickly set it, along with her undergarments, aside. No sense getting them all wet when she didn't have to. Picking her staff back up she began to descend into the water.

When the light from her staff touched the surface of the lake there was a rippling and then a soft, bioluminescent glow began to fill the room. Krystal reached out to find lily pads, each one with a bulb in the middle, and the bulbs glowed a soft, green light.

Sinking into the water Krystal took several slow, deep breaths, filling her blood with oxygen to let her hold her breath a few seconds longer. She was in good shape, and part of Star Fox training involved exercising the lungs to survive without breathing for as long as possible. She could do it for roughly four minutes. Hopefully that would be enough.

Taking in one last, deep breath Krystal sank beneath the surface, keeping her eyes open. The water didn't sting, and the soft light made by the lily bulbs helped her see. She spotted the emerald, sitting on a dais at the bottom, only a few meters away from the stairs.

Kicking her legs behind her Krystal swam further down, eyes locked on the emerald. It pulsed and glowed like a beacon, and she felt her staff begin to tremor with anticipation as she closed the distance.

She felt her own anticipation growing as she neared the emerald. It was almost as if it were calling out to her, trying to tell her something. There was a whispering in her ear, but she dismissed it for the moment as the water swishing by.

When she reached the bottom she hovered for a moment above the emerald, looking at it more closely. It was faceted and conical in shape. It really did glow, and inside of it she could see swirling energies. Reaching out she touched her fingers to it and had to use every ounce of will she had not to open her mouth and scream. She felt fear and panic, anger, desperation. And it felt like Fox!

Her lungs began to burn. She was nearing the point where she'd need to go for air. Putting up all of her mental defences she grabbed the emerald and hugged it to her body. Her legs kicked and she swam for the surface, rising to the top in only a fraction of the time it had taken for her to get to the bottom.

When she broke the surface she gasped, sucking in a lungful of sweet, breathable air. She resisted the urge to hyperventilate, instead willing her body to take in slow, deep breaths that would replenish her oxygen more quickly, while also calming her frayed nerves.

Pulling herself up onto the stairs she grabbed her staff and warmed it with the fire setting, helping her dry from dripping to merely damp in a minute or two. Hastily she dressed, setting the emerald on the steps where she could see it. It had dimmed now that she had removed it from the dais, and the emotions she had read from it had receded as well. They still gnawed at her though. Had they been real? Or had they been an illusion? A stray, subconscious thought that had been magnified a thousand times by the artifact. Because she did fear for Fox when they weren't together. He feared for her. She bore no illusion that she could be with him to protect him every moment of every day, nor did she think that such a state of being would be healthy for either of them. It did not stop her from worrying though. They lived in a dangerous profession, in a star system that, for all its peacefulness and beauty, had a dark underbelly of violence and suffering that their lives had been, for the moment, inextricably linked to. To put it simply, there were many people who wanted them dead, or to do them harm, and she would be a fool not to keep that knowledge in the back of her mind.

As she zipped up her jumpsuit Krystal managed to convince herself that that was all it had been. Krazoa artifacts often magnified telepathic abilities or thoughts. The Krazoa were telepathic beings, and Krystal suspected this artifact was a focusing jewel, intended to help channel such energies more effectively.

Steady and with all the bad thoughts leaving her mind Krystal was about to pick up the gem and head back out to meet Tricky when her wristcomm beeped. Her stomach dropped like a lead weight. That was too close to be a coincidence. Swallowing the bile that had risen in her throat Krystal activated the wristcomm and frowned when she saw Peppy's face. "Krystal..."

"What is it?" Krystal asked, her tail curling around her legs. "Peppy, what's happened to him?"

Peppy's eyes flicked downward. He didn't question her guess, a measure of how much he'd come to trust her sixth sense. She knew he didn't find it surprisingly in the least that she would intuitively know who he was calling about. "I think you better get to Corneria. Better hurry."


A/N: This is the first time I've written Tricky in anything in a long time. He's such a big kid. I feel like any trip with him inevitably dissolves into him constantly asking, "Where are we going?"

Also, imagination points if anyone spots the Star Trek Wrath of Khan reference I made here.

See you guys in a couple weeks, and thank you so much for the support and reviews you've been giving to this story, I'm thrilled people are enjoying it! And, of course, if you find yourself in need of more Fox and Krystal goodness and all around Star Fox awesomeness, my other ongoing fic, Star Fox: The Storm, awaits yee! Go forth and read its glory!

Until next time...

-general furfvurfurfurughurhurhte