“And Callisto, the God of Pestilence, can spread a plaguelike sickness across the land,” I continued. “While Orion, the God of Famine, can turn a person into a pit of hunger. No matter how much food you eat, it will never satiate you. Eventually, you’ll starve.”
As my words sank in, the room became a gulf of silence. My mother had told me about the gods years ago, but at the time, it had felt like a fairytale. Now the reality was coming for us. Everything the gods touched, they destroyed. And if we didn’t find a way to stop them, life as we knew it would cease to exist.
“By touch,” Tessa finally said, her soft voice cutting through the pregnant silence. “That’s the only way they can use their power?”
I nodded. “As far as the humans know, yes. That does limit their power, but don’t let that make you complacent. They’re strong and fast and can withstand any attack. Winning against them won’t be simple.”
Fenella stood, shoving back her chair. She flattened her hands on the table and stared at each of us in turn, her eyes glittering like the miniature dagger necklace she always wore. “Well, the answer is simple. They were banished once. We do it again.”
“Absolutely fantastic idea, Fenella,” Alastair said with an eye roll as he folded his beefy arms across his chest. “And I suppose you know how to do that?”
She glowered at him. “All right, smartass, what’s your idea? Let me guess. Find a brothel and spend the rest of our limited days fucking our brains out?”
He smiled at her, but I didn’t miss the sharp glint in his eye. “You offering?”
Gaven chuckled.
I cleared my throat to get everyone’s attention back on the task at hand. “If the mortals knew how to banish the gods, they didn’t share that information with my mother. Druid Balfor, what can you tell us?”
The pale-faced Druid had chosen to stand along the back wall, and by the uneasy shuffle of his feet, he likely regretted coming to this meeting. The tension was so thick, I could feel it pulsing against my skin. Most of the time, my Mist Guard got along—they’d been friends for centuries. But they could also bicker like siblings when it suited them.
“Well,” Balfor said after brushing down the front of his drab robe, “I’ve spent a lot of time scouring our library here for answers. There are few, I’m afraid. Endir is not an old city, and the Fell predates it. So I’m not terribly surprised we don’t have any records from that time.”
“The Fell?” Tessa asked.
Druid Balfor cast her a nervous glance. “Er, yes. That’s the term the mortals use for that time period, when the gods first arrived here. I’ve visited their lands, you see. They told me very little, but I do have a bit of insight that might give us an idea of what comes next.”
I arched a brow and leaned forward. “And that is?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tessa lean forward as well, and then I noticed Druid Balfor give her another little glance, as if she made him uneasy. I frowned.
“We have about a month until the comet falls from the sky,” Balfor said. “After that, Andromeda will reunite with the others, and they’ll work together to enslave the mortals. Anything more than that, I don’t know.”
“But how do webanishthem?” Fenella asked sharply.
Balfor shook his head. “The mortals didn’t say.”
“But they do know how, right?” Toryn asked. “The mortals, I mean.”
“I don’t know.”
Niamh, who had been silently watching the exchange, tsked and leaned back in her chair. “So we have a month.”
“That’s not much time,” Alastair muttered.
“The gods don’t have an army,” I said, thinking out loud as I began to pace at the head of the table. “There are five of them, but there are hundreds in my army. Ruari vowed his kingdom would fight by our side. That’s a few hundred more.”
Niamh shook her head. “As much as I love a good battle, I don’t like these odds, Kal. We outnumber them, but they’re indestructible. And even though they can only spread their shit through touch, if a handful of our warriors came down with pestilence or famine, or even fear, our army could erupt into chaos.”
I rubbed my chin, and then turned to Balfor once more. “Niamh is right. We need more than just warriors if we want to survive this. Do the mortals know anything that could help? Would they have insight on how to destroy these immortal beings?”
“I don’t know.”
Fenella flicked her the edge of her dagger. “I’m sensing a pattern. You’re the oldest here, and yet you know little more than the rest of us combined.”
“The mortals fear the gods more than we do, and they’ve been certain of their return for centuries. There will be a reason they didn’t tell the fae anything.”
I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
