To Kill a God by C.S. Wilde

Chapter 26

Bast handeda kit of canned goods to a family of four, while Mera gave them the essentials for their hygiene. An officer next to her provided them with a fresh batch of clothes, and then the family went on their way. The line moved slowly, but Bast expected most Atlantean refugees would be supplied and settled before nightfall.

His hart might be a queen without a crown, but her people still bowed their heads whenever they saw her, even when she told them it wasn’t necessary. As the line moved along, she began ignoring it. Either that, or she’d gotten used to it.

“Your uncle was a good king,” the officer next to Mera offered while handing a batch of clothes to the next family in line. A slender male with a kind smile, the siren had a deep scar on the left side of his face that went from his forehead down to his jaw, passing over one blind eye. “I fought for King Wavestorm, and I will fight for you,” he vowed.

Bast eyed Mera’s reaction. She didn’t look the siren in the eye, she simply kept handing kits to the refugees. “I don’t deserve your devotion. I abandoned you.”

“You came back.” The officer turned to Bast, silently asking him to intervene.

Bast simply gave him a tiny shrug. He knew it was pointless. His hart carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, and all he could do was be by her side when she needed him.

“You were a merling without any options left,” the siren continued. “You did what you had to do to survive, my queen.”

“My uncle might still be alive. Let’s not lose hope, shall we?”

Bast’s heart squeezed. “Kitten…”

“If the king is alive, then he has my pity.” The officer’s one good eye glistened. “Being at Poseidon’s mercy is a punishment worse than death.”

A frown marred Bast’s forehead. “You speak from experience?”

The siren pointed to the scar that created a valley over his skin. “This was only the beginning.”

A cold, gut-wrenching fear spiraled inside Mera—Bast could sense it through their bond—but she didn’t let it show.

“We’ll bring him to justice,” she promised, then winked at Bast. “Detective Dhay and I are famous for that, aren’t we?”

A silly grin cut through his lips as he admired her. His hart. His queen. “We certainly are.”

The officer didn’t seem convinced. “Many have tried to defeat him, and all have failed. But if I must die one day, then let it be fighting him. For you, my queen. For Atlantea.”

Another family stepped in front of them, but Bast pulled Mera aside. “If you’ll excuse us for a moment.”

Two officers promptly replaced them as he led her to an empty spot near some bushes.

“I like where this is going,” Mera whispered with a naughty grin.

A smile hooked on the left side of his cheek. “Ah, do you?” Wrapping both hands around her waist, he kissed her forehead. “Your wish is my command, my queen.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You know you’re not her, yes? That you couldn’t be her, even in your worst nightmares.”

“It’s just so strange. I’ve run from Ariella, from this title, for so long. I don’t know how to act now that I’m, you know.” She motioned to herself from top to bottom.

“You’re already a million times the ruler she was, kitten.” Taking the back of her hand, he kissed it softly. “Besides, it has a nice ring to it. Queen Maurea, first of her name, ruler of Atlantea and hart of Sebastian Dhay, detective extraordinaire.”

She shook her head, but couldn’t hold the smile that sprouted on her lips. “You’re impossible.”

“Can’t argue with that.” A despondent sigh escaped his lips. “As much as I would love doing certain things with you behind those bushes, we happen to be late.”

“We do?”

Without warning, he swept her in his arms and winnowed them to the throne room. Officer Tiderider, Corvus, Harold, and the thing waited for them.

Beta Three, Bast chided himself. The thing had a name, and given how helpful it—he—had been thus far, the least Bast could do was show him some consideration.

“Another meeting?” Mera grumbled, climbing off his arms. “Great. This gig isn’t as fun as most people would think.”

Corvus stamped the back of his hand against his brow. “You finally understand my penance, Detective.”

“Penance?” Officer Tiderider chortled. “Being king, with servants tending to your every whim surely compensates for the stresses of your position, doesn’t it?”

Shrugging nonchalantly, he leaned closer to her. “Not as much as the endless nights of fucking with women who demand more results from their ruler.”

“You’re all talk and no catch, Night King,” Mera’s friend fired back, but she couldn’t hide the blush that rose to her cheeks.

Corvus raised his brow. “Want to see for yourself?”

“Broer!” Bast snapped. The shig was anything but subtle.

“Officer, the effect the nightling has on you is fascinating,” the thing—Beta Three—noted innocently, his metallic tone carrying a hint of a child’s innocence. “Despite his vulgar comment, your heart rate spiked considerably when—”

She shot the machine a narrowed glare that spoke of murder, and surprisingly, Beta Three seemed to catch it.

He was learning, as was his design. Bast couldn’t tell if that was a good thing, though. Technology tended to go wayward, but then again, so did living beings. Maybe that was why Harold had shared Beta Three’s override codes with him and Mera only a few hours ago.

“In case of an emergency,”he’d admitted.

Bast didn’t know what an override code was, but according to Mera, it could limit the machine’s free will. It didn’t seem entirely fair, yet perhaps necessary.

When he stepped onto the circle with his hart by his side, Officer Tiderider bowed her head slightly at Mera. “My queen.”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “Don’t you start with that, too.”

“You must acclimate yourself with the title, little fry.” Before she could react, Harold clapped his hands. “On to the meeting, then. Beta Three, if you will.”

The machine nodded. “I have linked my data core to the automatons that arrived with the convoy. They will now follow my every command.” He paused for a moment. “I’m also trying to regain contact with Darwhal, the commissioner’s informant, but he’s gone silent. I’m afraid we must assume he’s been caught.”

“Keep trying.” Harold straightened his stance, trying to mask his worry, yet Bast saw right through his façade. Reading people was a must for a detective.

“I can report that the human borough is learning fast. They should start their mass production of phasers soon, which is great news. A certain Detective Smith in particular has been of great help to Councilor Adams.” Harold faced Mera. “He asked me to tell you that the human and vampire boroughs are ready. He also said he’s ‘got this’ and to ‘tell Mera to go kick ass.’ Whatever that means.”

His hart’s lips opened into a warm smile. “That’s Julian, all right.”

Bast’s blood boiled, as it always did when Julian entered the picture, even if his jealousy was foolish.

Halle, he had bigger things to worry about now.

“I hate to follow up with bad news, but…” Harold exchanged a sorrowful glance with the Night King. “The government declared that every shore city must be evacuated to the mainland.”

“Which means we must leave Lunor Insul.” Corvus fixed his collar, as if the words suffocated him. Truth be told, they suffocated Bast too. “We have no advantage points here, and my barrier will lose strength soon. I can only hope Poseidon will pass by without doing much damage. I’ll put a protective spell around the castle and set up a self-destruct in case he tries to enter the library. Thousands of years of records and spells should not fall upon his hands.”

“Just in case, Brother.” Bast patted his back, his lips pressed into a line. He shared Corvus’ pain, his fear. After all, this was their home.

“Your island should be fine,” Harold assured. “He will focus his attack on Tir Na Nog. It’s the closest spot to Atlantea, and the most stable sea bed. Also, Mera will be there, and Poseidon isn’t known for letting go of a grudge.”

She nodded. “We have another problem. Ariella told me that chopping him into a thousand pieces won’t destroy him, and I believe her. So, how do we stop the prick once and for all?”

Officer Tiderider scoffed. “Of course chopping him up will work. It’s logical. She’s just playing games with you.”

Harold rubbed the bridge of his nose, seeming to consider it. “Actually, dismembering Poseidon could backfire stupendously, considering he can regrow himself. Who knows? We might end up with several copies of the bastard.”

Officer Tiderider slammed both hands on her waist. “Well, then this entire thing is pointless, isn’t it?”

“We might be able to find something in the library of night,” Corvus suggested, curling a lock of her blond hair around his finger. “Up for a read, Bel?”

By the look on her face, she was either about to slap him or kiss him—could go either way. Instead, she rolled her eyes and let him show her the way. “Don’t suppose I have much of a choice, do I?”

Corvus winked at her before taking her hand. Within a blink, he winnowed them out of the room, leaving Mera, Bast, and Harold alone with Beta Three.

“On to further matters,” the professor started, when Beta Three’s engines whirred loudly. His stance locked as if he’d turned into a metallic statue.

“Are you okay?” Mera asked.

A moment passed before he gathered himself. “I have received a transmission from Atlantea.”

“Darwhal came through!” Harold’s smile beamed with optimism. “Show it to us, Beta Three.”

“I would rather not.”

“Kitten,” Bast warned, dread spreading in his chest. “You might not want to see what’s on the other side.”

A flash of cold anguish crossed her green eyes, and Mera swallowed dry. Taking a deep breath, she turned to the automaton. “Show it to us.”

With a curt nod, his plates opened, revealing a blue screen.

Azinor floated in front of the camera, his face fully formed. King Wavestorm hovered in the background with his ankles tied together. Dark clouds of blood puffed from the stumps where his arms used to be, and his head was lowered. Bast couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead.

Harold stepped back, a cry simmering in his throat while Mera inhaled deeply, seeming to center herself—even if her entire body shook.

Bast gripped her hand. “Kitten…”

“I’m fine,” she lied.

Floating next to the king was a dead akritana with nothing above his neck. His severed head hovered on the opposite side of his bobbing corpse, and the siren’s long hair drifted around his face. His eyes had rolled back, his mouth hanging open as if he’d died midscream.

“Darwhal,” Harold croaked.

Azinor grinned at the screen with a mouthful of perfectly white teeth, and although that was a recorded message, Bast could swear the shig was glaring directly at Mera.

“I have conquered Atlantea, child, and now, I shall lay waste to your precious land. I’ll slaughter everyone and everything you care about. But you, Daughter, I will spare. You will become my new favorite toy.” He turned back to the armless king, and a low chuckle reverberated in his chest. “Regneerik is coming.”

The screen blinked out.