The King's Seal

by Amy Kuivalainen

  It was a lie, but one that Adalfieri would believe. All things considered, Isabella had been amazing as she coped with IVF and the storm of emotions that came with it. Adalfieri was old-school in that he was a chauvinistic patriarch, and Marco could imagine all of the objections the older man had to a gay couple trying to start a family. Adalfieri was also a politician, however, so he wisely kept his mouth shut.

  “Are you going anywhere nice, at least?” Adalfieri asked.

  “The Bahamas.”

  “With a woman? It’s a shame that pretty doctor ran off with Donato. She would’ve been good for you.”

  “I’m going with a few friends. It’s the Bahamas; there will be plenty of pretty women to meet there.” Marco gave the other man a wink. He didn’t want Adalfieri prying, and if he chose to believe Marco planned to get caught up in the uncomplicated arms of some anonymous women, so much the better. It was easier to explain than, I’m going to join a group of vigilante magicians on a demon hunt.

  “By friends, do you mean Signore Donato?”

  “No, but we have a few of the same acquaintances.”

  “Be careful, Marco. There’s much that is a mystery about that man and his circle of influence.”

  “You don’t have to warn me, sir. I might be in need of a holiday, but I’m not about to stop being a policeman. If I see something worth investigating, I’ll look into it.”

  “Good man. You take after your father in some ways at least, even if he never asked to take holidays,” Adalfieri said.

  Marco stifled an inward groan. It wasn’t often that Adalfieri brought up his father, Pietro. They had been friends through the force, right up until Pietro got drunk, went out in his boat, and was never seen again. Marco’s mother, a staunch Catholic, had never allowed the word suicide to be mentioned in her presence, even if that’s what it had been. Marco had moved back to Venice from Padua to be there for his mother and sister. Eventually, laughter returned to the palazzo, and they rarely talked about the drunk man with his hard fists and worse temper. It was only the old men, who never knew what Pietro had actually been like, that ever talked about him with any fondness.

  An hour later, Marco breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped out of the police station. He lit a cigarette and got one sweet lungful before it was whipped out of his mouth and crushed to pieces in the hand of the fiercest woman he’d ever met.

  Lyca stood proud, like a modern Zenobia, dressed in combat boots, jeans, and a singlet that showed off the impressive white tattoos inked on her black biceps. Her long silver hair was a mass of tiny braids and pulled back in a ponytail. She looked ready for action, as she always did.

  “No,” she said firmly, holding out her hand until Marco relinquished his packet to her.

  “I don’t know why I can’t have just one.”

  “Because you need to quit. I won’t have some wheezing human giving my position away and unable to keep up. You wanted to join us in this fight. It’s my job to make you useful. Don’t bitch about my methods.” Lyca gestured toward her boat. “Get in. I’m driving.”

  Ever since the night in Cannaregio, when he’d met the Serpent of Venice, Marco had struck up an odd friendship with the warrior. It was clear Lyca saw Marco as a special project, and he was spending almost as much time at the palazzo on the Calle dei Cerchieri as his own house. It was one of the reasons he wanted to take annual leave from work. Juggling his day job and the investigation into the priests of Thevetat had begun to take its toll. And that was before the grueling workouts Lyca had been putting him through. Giving up cigarettes once and for all had been a part of the agreement.

  They pulled into the small wooden dock on the Grand Canal, and Marco tied the boat off. Lyca smirked. She’d already explained that the magic of the palazzo would deal with the boat, but it went against every Venetian bone in Marco’s body to leave a boat unsecured.

  “Back again, I see,” said Phaidros as Marco walked through the door.

  “I missed you.” Marco offered him a sweet smile. Phaidros snorted and walked away. “What’s his problem?”

  “What it always is—Aelia. Penelope is pressing them to find Constantine, and nothing pisses Phaidros off quicker than Aelia’s lovers,” said Lyca with disgust.

  Marco knew better than to push for more information. He liked Aelia’s company, even if she was extra flirtatious at times to get a reaction out of Phaidros.

  Why Aelia and Phaidros didn’t get together was beyond him. The one time he’d mentioned it to Penelope, she laughed and said it was because it would make too much sense. Marco had learned to deal with Phaidros’s snide comments once he realized there was no real malice in them, and generally, counteracting them with kindness resulted in the magician leaving him alone.

  They found Galenos in the library and attached to a laptop, trails of light emanating from him. The first time Marco saw him connect to technology with his magic, it had freaked him out entirely. It was like the magician synced with the machine and became a part of the system. It was easily one of the strangest things he’d ever seen, and that included Alexis pulling the MOSE gates from the sea. Galenos blinked a few times, code racing over his eyes, before he let the magic go. The cords of magic receded back into the magician, and then he was suddenly present and smiling at them.

  “Buongiorno, Marco. How was work?” Galenos asked.

  “Over for the next month, thank God. Did you find anything new?”

  Galenos had been using the laptop from the safe house to trace where it had been and what it had been used for—a meticulous task that included studying every time one the priests of Thevetat had logged on to watch porn or transfer millions of dollars between accounts.

  “Nothing of interest at this stage.” Galenos got to his feet and crossed an item off a list pinned to the wall. He’d made a quick recovery after being fitted for his new arm and leg, and Lyca was working him harder than Marco so he was fighting-fit. They made an odd pair, but Marco had never seen two people so in love with each other.

  “Thank God, my sanity has arrived. I thought I heard your voice,” Penelope said, coming in from the gardens to kiss Marco’s cheek.

  “I’ve never been considered someone’s sanity before. How are you, amica?”

  “Frustrated. Trying to get information out of magicians has become my full-time job.”

  “Where is your shadow?”

  “If you mean Alexis, he’s in the Archives.” Penelope turned toward the wall of information. “Quickly, tell me something to take my mind off the emperor.”

  Marco frowned at her tone. Since her return from Israel, there was a spike of iron in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Marco understood the reasoning behind it, and yet it worried him. She should’ve grieved longer instead of throwing herself into work.

  It’s how she processes things, Alexis’s voice reminded him. Marco had spoken his fears aloud to the magician, knowing that if anyone could get through to Penelope, he could. He trusted Alexis’s judgment, but it didn’t make him worry about his friend any less.

  ALEXIS PLACED HIS book down on his cluttered desk and leaned back in his chair. Alexis could feel when Penelope was gone, just like the Archives could. Without the vibrant hum and warmth of her presence, the pressure growing inside of him became almost impossible to ignore. He didn’t want to keep her locked to his side, even if he was tempted to. The tide was creeping inevitably higher, and they were no closer to finding the ring of Solomon.

  Perhaps it was a fool’s hope to think it would work on Thevetat anyway. The collapse of Atlantis didn’t slow the wicked old snake down; what hope did they have with a ring? A ring that, in all likelihood, was still in Constantine’s possession. Alexis got up with a frustrated grunt and headed deeper into the Archives. It had changed to suit Penelope, but there were still chambers she didn’t know about.

  Nereus may have shown her the laboratory made of hematite stone, but none of them had mentioned the prisons.

  Over the years, t
hey had all gone mad at least once—from magic, grief, or the depression of having a life so long and never seeing an end to it, unable to know why they had been cursed with it. Nereus had to ensure there was a place they could be held that would null the flow of magic inside of them, a place in which they could remain calm enough to recover from whatever ailed them without their magic reacting to every emotion. With the high tide looming and his mind on fire, a cell was the only place Alexis might be able to think straight.

  Alexis opened the doorway hidden in the rock and found Phaidros sitting in the room of stone with his back against the wall. Waves of energy and magic rolled off him like a nuclear reactor and were absorbed into the stone around him. Unlike Aelia and Zo, who could control their magic with words, Alexis’s and Phaidros’s power had a habit of leaking out when they least expected it. If they were emotional, it was harder to control. One look at Phaidros, and Alexis knew he was more than a little emotional.

  “What are you doing here?” Phaidros asked.

  “The same thing as you, I imagine.” Alexis slid down the wall beside him and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “That bad?”

  “My head is splitting. How about you?”

  “It’s so bad, I feel nauseous. Fucking high tides. I forgot how awful they are until you get used to them.”

  “And then once you do, they are gone again, and you have to live with that,” said Alexis. They had been through it many times over the centuries. This was going to be the biggest high tide since Atlantis fell—who knew what would happen to them.

  “I thought you would be with Penelope.” Phaidros glanced at him sidelong with his golden eyes.

  “She needed a break from studying the ring of Solomon.”

  “She’s upstairs studying the priest’s movements with Marco. She never stops working. Have you noticed that?”

  “I have.”

  “I know you can be just as bad when you’re onto something, but she’s still mostly human, Alexis. This whole business will chew her to pieces if she’s not reminded what’s worth fighting for.”

  “She’s coping with her grief the best way she can, Phaidros. I can’t interfere with that. I don’t know what she needs. I’m trying to support her while she figures it out.”

  “Do something to get her out of this palazzo. You’re both so close to everything happening that you won’t be able to see the answers even if you find them. You need a break.”

  Alexis stretched out his long legs. He was feeling claustrophobic. “Perhaps there is some merit in what you are saying.”

  “I’m sorry, did you just agree with me?”

  “There are occasionally pearls of wisdom amongst the muck.” Alexis smiled, and Phaidros burst out laughing.

  “I suppose that’s fair. Honestly, I’m happy that you’ve got Penelope. Jealous as anything, but happy nonetheless.” Phaidros’s body grew tense, and Alexis couldn’t resist reaching out to touch his shoulder.

  “Phaidros, don’t you think it’s time you tell Aelia? This high tide could be the end of our world as we know it. Stop torturing yourself like this and take the chance.” Alexis had promised long ago to never interfere when it came to Aelia, but Phaidros was his oldest friend, and he hated to see him so miserable.

  “Aelia isn’t ready for me to love her.”

  “She’s never going to be unless you tell her.”

  “She won’t let me love her, Alexis. Even Constantine, prick that he is, has only ever tried to love her. She allows it to a point, but when it gets too serious, she does something stupid to push people away. She doesn’t want to be loved.”

  “We all want to be loved. Aelia’s afraid. Love and fear go hand in hand. You’ve lived long enough to know the truth of that.”

  “We need her for this war against the priests. If I spook her now, she’ll run. If she runs, she’ll be alone and vulnerable and easy for Thevetat to pick off. I won’t risk her life like that.”

  “I understand. I only want you to stop wasting the time you have with her.”

  Phaidros laughed. It was a bitter, heartbreaking sound. “All we’ve got is time.”

  “For now. This high tide might be the thing that breaks this curse of immortality.”

  “How is Penelope dealing with the tide? Can she feel it yet?” Phaidros changed the subject too fast for Alexis to carry on about Aelia.

  “I’m not sure. Penelope hasn’t said. Her magic is unique in that both parts of it originally belonged to other magicians. I don’t know what to expect from it.”

  “Do you think the magic will absorb and become hers? Maybe she’ll start demonstrating abilities like yours and Nereus’s?”

  “The Living Language from my tablet seems to have become her own. I’ve often thought of it as a proto-language—maybe not the first language, but certainly the oldest—so perhaps that’s why it’s helping with the translations. All language has its roots in it. Nereus’s power came from Poseidon, so who knows what it will do. Penelope can balance my power like Nereus could.” He hadn’t told anyone about it, and after it happened in Israel, he and Penelope hadn’t spoken of it either.

  Phaidros raised his eyebrows. “If she can do that, why are you here? Can she do it to anyone else?”

  “She only did it once, and it was while…”

  “While you were fucking?”

  “Gods, you’re vulgar. Yes, it happened then. You can see why I wouldn’t want her testing it with anyone else.”

  “It could’ve just been triggered that way because it was instinctual. If she tested it in other ways, I’m sure she could do it to anyone.” Phaidros had a gleam in his eye that Alexis knew far too well.

  “I will hit you.” Alexis recalled how intimate it was when Penelope drew on his magic, and he’d lock all the other magicians in the prison before he’d let any of them share that with her.

  “Okay, okay, but you need to try to get her to explore her abilities. Otherwise, the tide will be here, and she won’t know how to cope with any of the side effects.”

  He was right, and while Alexis secretly hated it, it was enough to give him an idea. “I’m going out for a while. Try not to stay in here too long, or it will sucker punch you as soon as you leave.”

  “Yes, yes, I know. Go and make love to your lady, Defender,” Phaidros said, then shut his golden eyes once more.

  Alexis found Penelope upstairs in the library, exactly where Phaidros predicted she would be.

  “You can’t stop working for five minutes, can you?” Alexis kissed the top of her head.

  “Marco turned up, and I got distracted.”

  “Come for a walk with me, cara. They can manage without us for the afternoon,” he whispered in her ear.

  Penelope looked up at him curiously before smiling. “I should go and get changed.”

  “Don’t. You look perfect as you are.”

  Aelia snorted from the other side of the room but managed to keep her mouth shut.

  “I’ll text you if we find anything,” Marco said without looking up from the laptop screen.

  “You will not. We’ll be back soon enough. The world can wait.” Alexis placed his hand at the small of Penelope’s back and steered her toward the library door.

  OUTSIDE, THE sun hung low in the sky, and the sea breeze was cooling off the sticky streets.

  “What’s brought this on?” Penelope looped her fingers around his.

  “I’m tired of being inside the palazzo with all of the squabbling magicians. We need a walk and time away from the search,” Alexis said as they moved through the narrow streets of Dorsoduro.

  They passed the Accademia Bridge. Alexis gave some euros to Maria, the homeless widow who favored the Campo della Carita. Dodging a crowd of art students outside the Peggy Guggenheim Collection, Alexis bought a bottle of wine and focaccia before they crossed the bridge to the Punta della Dogana. The tourists had cleared out for the afternoon, so they sat down next to the lamppost at the very point, with a perfect view of t
he light shining on St. Mark’s Square across the canal.

  “This was an excellent idea,” Penelope said before sipping her Chianti.

  “You can thank Phaidros. He reminded me that we shouldn’t have our heads stuck in books all the time.”

  “Dates with handsome men are all well and good, but Solomon’s ring needs to be found. The fate of the world and all that.”

  “Cara, there is always something threatening the fate of the world. The search for the ring has distracted us from something equally important, and that’s your magic,” said Alexis.

  Penelope looked away from the water and down at the silver rings shining on her hands. “I don’t know what you all expect me to be able to do.”

  “The tide is growing. It’s starting to affect Phaidros and me more every day. It won’t be long before the others feel it too, and that includes you. I only want you to be ready for it. It’s a part of you, and it will grow into what it needs to be. Pretending it isn’t there won’t make it go away.”

  “Poseidon’s power from Nereus—whatever that means. With any luck, I’ll get abilities like Aquaman and will never have to worry about drowning again,” she said with an awkward hitch in her voice.

  Alexis shifted so he could put an arm around her. “I don’t want you to worry unnecessarily. Just be aware of anything…out of the ordinary.”

  Penelope reached up to brush her fingers against his jawline. “Alexis, I live with magicians. Everything seems out of the ordinary to me, but I promise I’ll try to be more aware of it. I wonder if there is anything in the Archives about Poseidon’s abilities. I might be able to come up with a list of things to watch out for.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’m sure Nereus will have something. Although many of her books that I know I’ve seen seem to be missing.” It was bothering him more each day. Why would the Archives hide them?

  “Kreios said that Abaddon wanted Nereus’s books on the experiments to bring Poseidon back to life. I’ve looked for them, and they aren’t there.”

  “Maybe the Archives destroyed them when the office was remade for you. Nereus felt strongly that those particular experiments shouldn’t be repeated under any circumstances.”