To Kill a God by C.S. Wilde

Chapter 4

Screams eruptedthroughout the port as faeries began to run around like headless chickens. They’d never seen an ekrunami in their lifetime—the last one on record had happened before the Great War—but like Bast, they’d learned about the signs in school.

Corvus exchanged one worried glance with him before winnowing away, and a certain relief washed over him. At least his brother would be safe.

Fisting his hands, Bast stepped closer to Mera, facing the horizon. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Clifftown is sending help.” She put her phone back in her pocket. “I’ve got this, partner. Go warn the fae councilor. We have a borough to save.”

A growl erupted low in his chest. As a Hollowcliff detective, his duty was to Tagrad, but as Mera’s hart, he would always put her first.

Country be damned.

“I’ll never forgive you if you don’t help them,” Mera warned, knowing the impact that would have on him.

“Would you do the same if you were in my shoes?”

Her gaze left his. “I know I’m asking a lot of you.”

She was, but they had no choice.

“Hang on. I’ll be back soon.”

His hart smiled sweetly, a certain sadness hiding in the way her lips curled. “I’ll be here.”

A sharp force immediately yanked him from behind, enveloping Bast in endless darkness.

He floated amidst the night sky, drifting past stars that blinked in the distance. It was hard to tell up from down, but by now he was used to it. His loose silver hair floated around him as a gripping cold bit at his fingers. It was like falling and not falling at the same time, hanging between two different realms.

Ahead, a slit cut through the darkness, showing an office made entirely of sandstone. Bookshelves lined the back wall, with hanging vines dropping from the top, cascading atop the heavy tomes and golden trinkets on the shelves.

A male with short auburn hair signed some papers on a cedar desk, completely unaware of Bast’s presence on the other side. He wore a fitted white suit that must have cost a fortune, and even from the distance, Bast could spot the freckles atop his skin.

A magic barrier buzzed between him and the slit, thin and wavering. He pushed his palm against it, feeling the power thrum on his skin.

Too easy.

Bast’s night and stars concentrated around his hand. His power clashed against the barrier’s, fighting its resonance until the wall cracked like broken glass. He stepped into the councilor’s office, surprised at how easy it had been to crack the magical protection around it.

“That barrier was a joke,” he told Councilor Asherath—not Bast’s captain, Fallon Asherath, even if Bast wished it were him sitting in that white leather chair.

The councilor was Fallon’s cousin, Colin.

A stuck up, stupid suket.

“How dare you?” The Sidhe slammed both hands on his desk before jumping to his feet. His wide green eyes were filled with fury; a type of glare Bast had grown accustomed to given his talent for making enemies.

“You can be mad at me later, Colin. The borough—”

“You invaded my office and broke through the protective barrier around it! Have you lost your mind? I’m not just Fallon’s cousin anymore, Sebastian. I’ve been elected councilor of the fae borough. Show some respect!”

Bast cocked his head left. “If anything, I’ve proven that you have terrible security. I did you a favor, didn’t I? You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Oh, you fucking baku!”

“Listen, Colin. Tir Na Nog is under—”

He pointed a finger at him. “No! Your roguish ways may work on my cousin, but I’m not a push-over. There are laws we must respect, now more than ever after the corruption scandal this borough went through. Guards!”

Bast snarled, displaying pointy teeth that showed his temper was running low. “Oh, yes, I remember. If not for what Mera and I did, your corrupt predecessor, August, would still be sitting in that chair. The same predecessor who tortured Fallon before banishing him from the Autumn Court decades ago.” Bast pointed at the baku, his wrath taking the best of him. “It is you, Colin, who should show some respect!” He slammed his hands on the table, but Colin didn’t flinch. He merely watched him through cunning emerald eyes. “You did nothing as Fallon was exiled in shame. You watched him go down cowardly and in silence, which I suppose was good training for your role as councilor, wasn’t it?”

Two bulky Sidhe burst into the office, but Colin raised his palm, stopping them. His mouth twisted downward in a bitter curve, his chin bearing an uncomfortable resignation. “You forget yourself, Detective Dhay.”

No, he didn’t, but in his fury, Bast had forgotten about the bigger picture. “There’s an ekrunami heading toward the shore as we speak. You have to tell people to seek high ground through the emergency system.”

“An ekrunami?” Colin chortled. “You must be hallucinating. Your nightblood has clearly taken the best of you.”

“Kura!” Bast pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing himself to calm down. “Put your distaste for me aside and do as I say, you shig. Our people will die. This is not a joke!”

The councilor swallowed, seeming to think twice before finally nodding in agreement. “You better be right, or else… ”

Colin made a circular move with his hands and closed his eyes. After a moment too quick to count, but that seemed to stretch like an eternity, an alarm wailed through town, followed by Colin’s voice repeating, “Ekrunami alert. Seek high ground immediately.”

The phone on his desk—a Tagradian requirement, even if most fae abhorred technology—rang loudly.

“Peter. Yes, I heard,” Colin answered, then listened to what the other councilor explained. “My agents will be too busy with the evacuation. I don’t think the machines you’re developing with Lycannie can help, but I’ll take anything you have.” He listened again. “They’re on the way? Good.” He hung up the phone.

“What was that?” Bast asked.

“You should cover your ears,” he warned before covering his own. His two guards did the same.

“Why woul—”

A loud swooshing sound burst from outside, as if the sky itself was being ripped in two. Bast jerked when the sudden shrieking pounded his eardrums, piercing his brain. The walls in the office shook violently.

Stamping both hands on his ears, he headed to the window to see two metallic, arrow-shaped things cutting through the air. Their sound dimmed the closer they got to the shore.

“Danu in the prairies,” Bast mumbled.

Flying machines.

The human borough had flying machines.