To Kill a God by C.S. Wilde

Chapter 18

Mera’sback gently thudded against a straight surface as soft currents coursed around her. Even drenched in darkness, she could feel the water rushing into her gills, her bones heavy as iron. She was definitely underwater, but she recalled being at a beach not a moment ago.

Prying her eyes open, she stared at Bast. He watched her with a roguish grin, the same one that always made her heart skip a beat.

He couldn’t be real, of course. She must have been hallucinating.

Mera studied him while her brain tried to punch out of her skull. For a figment of her imagination, he looked so real…

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” she groaned.

“You’re fine.” His voice came out slightly mechanical, as if he were speaking through an intercom.

Only then did Mera realize that his hair didn’t float around him, neither did his clothes. In fact, for someone underwater, Bast seemed perfectly dry.

He pulled her up so that she floated straight. A thin membrane buzzed between his palm and hers, a layer that coursed atop his entire body like a bubble, or perhaps, a magic shield. It followed his movements perfectly.

They floated in the middle of her room in the palace, and Mera stamped a hand on her forehead, still unsure whether she was dreaming.

Giving her an excited grin, Bast pointed to his own face. “It’s incredible, isn’t it? This ‘bubble’ protects my entire body. Atlantean devices, kitten!” He waved to the space around them as if it were the entire city. “I hate technology, but even I have to admit this is spectacular.”

“You’re really here?” she stated the obvious before wrapping her arms around him, hugging Bast with the feeble remainder of strength she had left.

It wasn’t enough. She wasn’t touching him, only the bubble around him. She couldn’t kiss her hart senseless; not there.

Not yet.

He hugged her back, burrowing his face in the curve of her neck. The bubble felt cold against her skin. “I’m here, Princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” Mera swam back, an invisible iron poker sticking through her chest.

Bast waded closer. “Your uncle and his mate have kept me in the loop. They asked me to convince you to take the throne.” Cupping her cheek, he watched her with soothing, blue eyes. “Clearly, they’ve forgotten how stubborn you are.”

Mera leaned against his palm, hating that she couldn’t feel the warmth of his touch. “I don’t want the throne.”

“Corvus didn’t either, but he’s turned out to be a good king.” A certain sadness fell upon his face. “Also, King Wavestorm has no heirs. You’re bound to take the throne eventually.”

“My uncle still has many years ahead of him, okay?” She pointed at the bubble surrounding him, eager to change the subject. “How does this work?”

Her hart saw right through her gimmicks—his certainty flowed through their bond—but he played along. “It’s a malleable suit that filters the oxygen in the water and feeds it to me. According to Harold, it controls the pressure around my body as well, since we’re quite deep underwater.”

Harold.

So he’d met the professor already.

Mera could practically see Bast refusing to leave her side, his canines sharp and his eyes beady black, which must have forced her friends to find a way to bring him with them.

“Your people’s technology defies imagination.” He scratched the back of his neck, even if he couldn’t complete the motion. “I haven’t seen much of Atlantea, but I already know it puts Clifftown to shame.”

Catching the worry in his tone, she turned around, facing the rainbow city and the blinking dome in the distance. “If Azinor ever conquers Atlantea, we’ll be in serious trouble.”

Bast swam closer, soon halting next to her. “From what your friend Belinda told me, he nearly did. And now, he has everything he needs to finish the job.”

She watched her own hands, not knowing what to think as flashes of lightning blinked in her memory. Closing her eyes, she ignored them, trying to burrow what she’d done at the beach in a place deep within herself.

It didn’t work.

“It was self-defense,” Mera muttered, even if she didn’t believe her own words. “They were going to kill you.”

Bast wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I know.”

“The queen told me she fuels Azinor’s power because she’s his soulmate.” A pit settled in her stomach. “Do you think something like that happened at the beach? With us?”

He seemed to consider it. “I did feel awfully weak. But if that is true, why has it never happened before?”

“I don’t know.” She turned around, facing him as she wrapped both arms over his shoulders. “Whatever it was, it won’t happen again. If boosting my magic means siphoning yours, I—”

“It’s fine, kitten. You didn’t know.” His lips placed a kiss on her forehead, but she only felt the bubble’s cold membrane. “You saved us. It’s all that matters.”

“Soulbreaker,”the queen’s voice echoed in her memory, and a shiver ran down her spine.

Mera would never, ever, use Bast to propel her powers again, no matter the cost. Her hart wasn’t a thing to be used, he was her equal. Her partner. Her everything.

They stayed there, in silence, until she inhaled a batch of water through her gills. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Your uncle wants to speak to us. He’s waiting in the gardens.”

She frowned. “You know the gardens?”

“You were out for a while.” Bast floated out of the way, showing her the room’s arched exit. “Shall we?”

Mera boosted forward, but before she could bring him along, he quickly caught up, breaking water right next to her.

“How are you doing this?”

Bast raised his hand to show her a swirling cloud of darkness floating inches from his palm. It shaped a whirlpool. “The magic works like a propeller. It’s my own way to waterbreak, I suppose.” He nodded downwards, and the same clouds swirled from the pads of his feet.

“Full of surprises, aren’t you?”

He winked at her. “Always.”

A warm sensation swelled Mera’s chest. She was so happy to see him, so happy he was there. She never imagined she could burst from joy within the corridors and halls that housed her misery for so many years, and yet, there she was.

Uncle Barrimond waited for them in one of the palace’s outer coral gardens. Stone boulders littered the space, crushing the colorful display. During the attack, big, silver shards had detached from the castle’s front and pierced through the ground like arrows, revealing patches of dark stone on the façade.

Her uncle waved at them just as an automaton walked into view, heading toward a big stone on the right.

“Take cover!” Bast shouted, yanking Mera back so that he stood between her and the machine. Clouds of night and stars bloomed from his fisted hands, making the water around his magic boil.

“No, Detective Dhay!” the king cried out, putting himself in the way. “Don’t shoot. He’s one of ours.”

Bast growled deep in his chest, refusing to move an inch.

Settling a hand on his shoulder, Mera pulled him back to face her. “It’s just a machine. It does what it’s programmed to do.”

“Indeed.” The king motioned for the automaton to approach. “The one who faced you at the beach has already been dismantled. This one is named Beta Three.”

The automaton’s steps were heavy against the stony ground as he faced Mera, his round, neon-blue eyes blinking. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess.”

Beta Three moved more fluidly than other automatons, which didn’t mean much given the machines walked slowly and kind of funny. Unlike his peers, his jaw opened and closed in synchrony with the words when he spoke. The silver plates on his body looked sleek, tighter around his form, leaving only small gaps that revealed the cogs and wheels that made him function.

“Don’t call me Princess, please,” she begged. “I’m a detective, just like Bast.”

The automaton turned to the king, as if waiting for an explanation or further instructions. Maybe both.

“She’ll come around, Beta Three. Give her time.” Swimming closer, her uncle trapped Mera in a hug so tight that her gills barely had any room to filter the water. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, dear.”

She returned the hug, her fingers digging on his back. “And I’m glad you’re safe.”

After a long moment, he let her go and faced Bast. “Tell me, Detective Dhay. How does it feel to be the first of your kind to enter Atlantea in the last two thousand years?”

Still eyeing Beta Three with suspicion, Bast crossed his arms. “It’s an honor, King Wavestorm.”

“Good.” He tapped Bast’s back with a hollow sound, and the membrane around her hart wavered slightly. “Let it be the beginning of a great change.”

As if on cue, the domed shield that protected Atlantea stopped flickering in the distance. Little dots flashed randomly, a sign that bigger fish were slamming against the surface.

“Ah! I see Harold and Belinda’s mission was a success.” Her uncle smiled, but noticing Mera’s confusion, he elaborated. “They restored the shield by using the secondary beacons, and placed them in secret locations. They’re also planting decoys.”

She nodded. “So Azinor won’t break through so easily next time.”

“Which doesn’t mean he won’t. With his lackeys still around town, it’s only a matter of time.” He turned to the automaton. “And that is why we’re here. Beta Three is a prototype we’re testing to aid law enforcement. He’s the first of his kind, and his existence is a secret few are aware of. He’s better than his peers. Faster, too. Not to mention, his matrix is incredibly more complex, which means he can form his own thoughts based on the experiences he faces.”

Mera frowned. “Meaning, he can think on his own?”

“Yes, he can,” Beta Three answered for the king, his voice a steady, mechanical monotone that rung rather soothingly.

“I don’t like this.” Bast let out a displeased gruff. “Machines shouldn’t behave like living beings, and they shouldn’t make decisions of their own. They shouldn’t… feel.”

“I cannot feel, Detective, only rationalize.” Beta Three cocked his head at him, staring at Bast through soulless blue eyes. “That means my decisions are more efficient than those of a carbon-based creature, such as yourself.”

Mera laughed, but when Bast sent her an annoyed glance, she cleared her throat. “Beta Three, that was uncalled for.”

“My apologies. I did not mean to offend. I shall add the occurrence to my log to prevent it from happening.” He cocked his head to the side again. “According to my records, faeries do not approve of technology. Is that why you do not approve of me, Detective Dhay?”

Bast never broke eye contact with him. “Among other reasons.”

“Well, I can assure you I—”

Uncle Barrimond raised his hand, and Beta Three immediately became silent. “Poseidon will come for sea and land sooner than we expected. As we’ve seen, there’s little we can do to stop him on our own. We must unite if we’re to defeat him, which means extreme measures. This is why our prime automaton is here.”

His intentions suddenly dawned on her. “You want us to take Beta Three to Tagrad.”

“The pinnacle of our technology in exchange for help. Besides, Poseidon shouldn’t get his hands on Beta Three. If you broker a deal with Tagrad—”

“Me?”

He gave her a knowing grin. “You’re our best hope. An Atlantean princess who experienced life on both worlds.”

“We did not agree to this,” Bast grumbled. “I’ll take Mera back, but let’s keep her out of anything related to the council. Making those thick-minded shigs agree to an alliance will be nearly impossible.” Sighing wearily, he eyed the automaton. “I suppose this thing might do the trick, if it keeps its mouth shut.”

“I have been trained extensively in the art of diplomacy,” Beta Three countered. “I can assure you that I’m prepared for the task.”

“Yeah, we’ve seen your diplomatic skills,” Mera chuckled. “Sometimes less is better, Beta Three.”

Maybe Mera’s mind was playing tricks on her, but she could swear the automaton seemed a little disappointed.

“I’ll tell Flint to prepare the ship.” Bast kissed her forehead, even if his lips couldn’t touch her. “I’ll meet you in the isles.”

“You forget that I’ll be shot to death if I return to Tagrad. The council, and everyone else, knows I’m a siren now.” Mera crossed her arms. “Or did they miss the fact that I held down a tidal wave all on my own?”

He watched her for a moment, as if debating whether to tell her the truth. “They do know, but you won’t be shot. They want you to stand trial. Rest assured that I won’t let it happen.”

“I should stay here with my family,” she countered. “Especially since Azinor is coming back.”

Bast exchanged one weary glance with the king. “If the suket conquers Atlantea, he will capture you. That’s a risk we’re not willing to take. Besides, you must come along, especially if we’re to bring that thing to land.” Nodding to Beta Three, he curled his own lips. “I already want to dismantle it to pieces, and we haven’t even started the journey.”

Before she could argue, he blinked out of existence. One moment he was there, the next he was gone.

“Bast! Gods damn it!”

“Is that what they call winnowing?” her uncle muttered. “Remarkable! You have a dashing soulmate, my dear. Stubborn, surely, but dashing nonetheless.”

“Speaking of soulmates,” Mera raised one eyebrow at him, “you and the professor are an item.”

The king stared at her in shock, then fidgeted with his long fingers. “We weren’t sure how to tell you. Finding happiness after we lost you felt wrong.”

“I’m glad you have each other.” Taking his hands, she smiled. “You have nothing to feel sorry about.”

Gratitude and worry warred in his eyes. “Can you promise me you’ll be safe? The council will listen, won’t they?”

“With Bast in the room?” She chortled. “Even Azinor should be afraid.”

“The shield is up!” Belinda’s voice came from behind them as she and the professor arrived at the garden, but when she spotted the automaton, her eyes narrowed and her smile vanished. “Beta Three.”

Bowing his head in a greeting, he placed a metallic hand over his chest. “Officer Tiderider. Commissioner.”

Mera frowned. “You know each other?”

“Sort of.” Breaking water, Belinda halted next to her. “I’ve been helping to test Beta Three’s protocols. He’s not exactly smooth.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

“Trust me, you haven’t.” She crossed her arms, sending the automaton a hateful glare. “He can be such a blobfish’s ass.”

“I see you resent me for pointing out your unhealthy habit of drinking fermented seaweed.” Blinking innocently, he turned to Mera. “I must clarify that this is akin to what landriders call ‘drinking alcohol’.”

As if she needed a translation.

“It was after work!” Belinda cried out, raising her arms. “Everyone goes to a bar after work, you dumb pile of rust! You’re so annoying, Beta Three.”

Mera couldn’t hold back her laughter as her friend swam forward and began arguing with the automaton.

The professor approached her, watching the two of them with mirth. “We still have to work on some of his configurations, but Beta Three should do well. Hopefully.”

Mera laughed when Belinda nearly slapped the automaton’s metallic face—a bad idea for her hand. “You’re sending Beta Three with us so you can get rid of him, aren’t you?”

Winking at her, he faked outrage. “Why, I would never.”

Ahead, Belinda created a whirlpool around the automaton. It lifted him from the ground, turning him upside down, before slamming him head first against the harsh surface with a loud bang.

Before Mera could worry, Beta Three slowly stood on his feet, not a scratch on him.

Those things were resilient.

Dangerous.

Turning to Belinda, he cocked his head as if she hadn’t just attacked him. “All that seaweed drinking is not improving your behavior, Officer.”

Mera rubbed the bridge of her nose. Either Beta Three would help break truce between land and sea, or he would start a new war altogether.

Could go either way.