The King's Seal

by Amy Kuivalainen

  “Fuck him again,” said Lyca, and Penelope shoved her. “What? She should. It’s been a long time coming. Why make it complicated? Or was the sex terrible?”

  Lyca and Penelope looked at Aelia, eyebrows raised. She covered her burning face with her hands. “No, it was really good. It would be easier if it were bad.”

  “Then I don’t see a problem.” Lyca’s eyes glittered. “I always thought he would be good in bed. I’m pleased he didn’t disappoint you after so long.”

  Aelia groaned. “Shut up. I wish I hadn’t told you.”

  Penelope gave Lyca a sly wink. “But you did tell us. That means we need details now.”

  “Oh, yeah? And are you going to spill all of Alexis’s bedroom secrets?”

  “We aren’t talking about Alexis and me. You brought this up, so you’ve got no one to blame but yourself. When Phaidros didn’t have a meltdown over Constantine being here, I knew he was in too good of a mood… It’s all coming together.”

  “It’s because there’s no more competition. Now he can act like a human and not a lovesick puppy,” said Lyca.

  Aelia made a frustrated sound. “This is the worst timing for a relationship.”

  Penelope shrugged. “If I can get used to it, you can too. At least you’re not dealing with new magic at the same time.”

  “New magic that’ll grow with the tide.” Lyca changed the subject, much to Aelia’s apparent relief. “What are you doing to manage it?”

  “Trying to manipulate water. I did it on Badija but haven’t really tried it since. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it all. The Living Language makes sense with my background and new position as Archivist. Doing water tricks in the ocean seems pretty useless.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Aelia sat up again. “You have no idea what Poseidon could do with those ‘water tricks.’ He controlled the seas, calmed storms, destroyed ships. You could use it to protect Venice or send a tidal wave to destroy Milos and Thevetat’s base.”

  “If I were Poseidon, maybe. I can’t do any of that.”

  “Yet,” Lyca said. “You need to use it more. Practice in the canal entrance. No one will see you, and the palazzo will ensure you don’t damage it. Take Alexis if you need to, though I doubt you do. Magic can only be guided, not taught. You need to find out how it works for you and what you want to do with it.”

  “I’ll try. I’ve been so caught up in hunting the ring and Nereus’s books that I haven’t given it much thought.”

  “You’d better start,” Aelia said. “Delegate, Penelope. Elazar and Constantine can help with the ring. Alexis can look through Nereus’s books and free you up to study magic. It won’t go away, no matter how much you ignore it.”

  “Okay, okay. I will. Now let’s talk about something else. You’re killing my buzz.”

  They changed the subject, but the thought of being able to control a tidal wave didn’t leave her.

  Lyca and Aelia told Penelope about Nereus and their time in Egypt, the arguments they’d had with her, and the firm hand she used to keep them together, no matter how much they fought. She never stopped being the Matriarch of the Citadel. She’d been their home and their steady head during the times the world was burning around them or when their long lives and magic had driven them to madness. Penelope listened, and her own heart was saddened that she never had enough time to learn from Nereus. She did have her books, and perhaps one day, she could understand her through them.

  At dawn, when she could barely keep her eyes open, Alexis appeared through the trees with Phaidros, Zo, Elazar, Galenos, and Constantine.

  “No rending of garments?” Constantine frowned.

  “You first,” Penelope slurred.

  Alexis glared as Constantine gripped his T-shirt. “Do it, and I’ll make you regret it.” He sat down beside Penelope and took the bottle of wine from her hands. “Did you leave any for me?”

  Penelope didn’t answer. She was too focused on the shape of his cheekbones to form words. He took a mouthful of wine and winced.

  “I forgot how terrible this wine is.”

  “Shhh, you’ll offend Zo.” Penelope placed her fingers over his lips. He smiled underneath them. “You’re very handsome, Alexis.”

  “Stop making sexy eyes at each other. You have an audience,” Zo said.

  Phaidros hushed them. “The dawn is coming, so everyone shut up.”

  Penelope may have been wasted, but she still noticed that Phaidros had sat down next to Aelia, the tips of his fingers very subtly twisting in the ends of her bronze hair. Aelia swayed as she sat upright, then broke into song.

  Penelope half-expected the horror of the lament to come back to her, but unlike the first time, this song was lighter and infinitely more beautiful. Alexis pulled her close as the magic in the song stirred her emotions.

  It was like the sunshine that spilled golden over the lagoon—full of life and warmth and promise. It was a burden put down; it was the hope of new love and the burning flames of faith. It was a song of deep love and loss and every kind of joy bound up inside of it. Penelope started crying again, but they were the healing kind of tears, and she wasn’t alone. There wasn’t a single one of them with dry eyes, and by the time Aelia finished, her voice was barely a crackle. That didn’t stop her from joining in with Constantine for a Latin hymn that Nereus had loved.

  Penelope swayed unsteadily as Alexis helped her to her feet. After a few jolting steps, he lifted her up in his arms, carrying her through the early morning light. Her last thought was that she finally had somewhere she belonged.

  ALEXIS KNEW WHAT it was like to have a lamenting hangover, so when Penelope didn’t move throughout the day, he was smart enough to lower the curtains and use healing magic to cure her nausea and headache as she dozed.

  It was the first day in a long time where Alexis could work alone in his tower. He was still reading through the small pile of Nereus’s books, and he’d filled half a journal with notes and diagrams as he sought to understand her theories and experiments.

  There were enchantments that represented the whimsical side of her nature, like how to make a seashell tell you all it had seen, and then there were the boggling, complex workings, such as manipulating the energy of a crowd to stop events like riots…or start them. The books seemed to date back to before she was made the Matriarch, when she’d been an apprentice working under Poseidon. Nereus had always been private about that part of her life. As a typical student and surrogate son, Alexis hadn’t given it much thought, but looking back, he should have pressed her more.

  Nereus had been a brilliant magician, but still, the complexity of the magic she’d wielded under Poseidon’s tutelage was mind-blowing. Even with his knowledge and experience, Alexis sometimes struggled to follow the thread of her thoughts and the reasoning behind her experiments. So far, he hadn’t come across anything surrounding resurrection and necromancy. He needed to go into the astrolabe to study its contents, but it wouldn’t work without Penelope.

  Alexis’s phone vibrated, and he was surprised to find a text message from Constantine: Pen’s office in the Archives. E & I have found something.

  “How did they get in there without her?” He hoped they hadn’t messed up the order of notes on his desk.

  Outside the tower, Alexis wasn’t surprised to find that the sun had set again. When he was studying new magics, marking time became irrelevant. He’d expected to be fascinated by Nereus’s books, but he hadn’t planned for the waves of acute homesickness that they caused. Perhaps it was time to let the world know the truth of Atlantis’s existence, even if they never revealed the magical history. That would certainly make Penelope happy. But Atlantis would have to wait a little longer. They had a war to win first.

  Constantine, Elazar, and Zo had made themselves comfortable in the Archives. Another table had been moved into the office, and the three of them sat clustered together, talking and pointing at book pages and a laptop screen.

  “Where have you bee
n all day?” asked Constantine.

  “I was studying in the tower. What trouble have you three been up to?” Alexis folded his arms.

  “You needn’t look so disapproving, Uncle,” said Elazar. “I was thinking of the priest who escaped Acre before Khalil’s arrival.”

  “Which started Con off on a debate.” Zo sent a fond smile in Constantine’s direction.

  “One of the sources for the fall of Acre and its repercussions was a Dominican priest called Riccoldo da Monte di Croce, who was a missionary and from Florence.” Constantine took control of the laptop. “Most of his letters have now been digitized by academics. The internet has been a blessing for information sharing.”

  “Riccoldo had been in Acre only weeks before the siege and wrote letters about it from Baghdad,” said Elazar.

  “That would’ve been a hard place for Christians to live, let alone a traveling monk,” Alexis said. “He must’ve had a good reason to want to risk his life in such a manner.”

  Elazar nodded. “Exactly. He composed quite long-winded apologetic writings about Islam and Judaism, as well as multiple travel letters from his time at the court of Arghun Khan. When he settled in Baghdad, he started studying the Quran and other Islamic theology texts.”

  “It makes sense. If Riccoldo was given Solomon’s ring in Acre, he could’ve been curious about it and wanted to see if any of the Islamic and Jewish traditions spoke more about it. If the ring has any protective properties, it could explain how he managed to survive.”

  “The papal bull he carried wouldn’t have hurt either,” added Constantine, referring to documentation issued by a pope. “Riccoldo was a Florentine, so he would’ve brought the ring back to Italy with him.”

  “I have to admit, I’m impressed. I should let you argue amongst yourselves more often.” Alexis wrote the information down on a sticky note and stuck it to the glass wall under the 1200-1300 section. “How do we find him now?”

  “So glad you asked,” Elazar said. “Riccoldo returned to Florence and died in 1320. He was a Dominican at the Santa Maria Novella, so I have to wonder if he bequeathed all of his possessions to the Church.”

  Constantine made a doubtful noise. “Something as important as the ring of Solomon should have been sent to the Vatican. If he had concerns for its safety, he wouldn’t have left it in the hands of any old church administration, especially if he had enough Vatican connections to have a papal bull.”

  “Why not give it back to the Teutonic Knights?” suggested Zo. “They were the original keepers after all.”

  “The knights had been kicked out of the Holy Land, and Hermann von Salza was long dead. The knights in Germany might not have had knowledge of the ring. Constantine is right,” Alexis said. “The Vatican would be the obvious bet, and Tim’s document does mention popes, so this a viable guess as to how it ended up in their hands.” He tapped his fingers against his chin. “We’ll need a way to prove it, and I doubt the Vatican would be willing to share the full catalog of their relics.”

  “You never know. They’ve been digitizing their archives, and Riccoldo would be a figure of interest not just to theology students, but also anyone researching medieval China.” Constantine pulled out his phone. “Let me send some emails. I have a contact that may know something, including whether they have Riccoldo’s documents or if they’re tied up in private collections.”

  “Penelope will be relieved to have one less person to identify,” said Zo. “The sooner we find the ring, the better. We need to see if it awakens for Penelope or one of us.”

  “If it does, I’m going to be pleased and pissed at the same time. When my mother or I wielded it, I never saw it perform an exorcism, only some healings,” said Constantine. “What if we do find it and it doesn’t work at all?”

  Alexis was reluctant to even consider it. “We try to sabotage the ritual that will bind Thevetat to his new body. I know Nereus wrote about a similar experiment that Abaddon was present for. I need to find her book—”

  “And if you can’t find it? Alexis, you need to start thinking like my general again. Too much of your plans rely on equipment you don’t have yet.”

  “I know that, but I don’t see us being able to defeat him without them.”

  “From what Zo has said, Kreios told Penelope that they are going to be on Milos for Thevetat’s ceremony. What do you know about the island? Have you studied its defenses? Do you know if he is in a mansion or a camp?” Constantine asked. “For God’s sake, don’t scowl at me, Alexis. I’m only asking the questions you should’ve been all this time.”

  “Alexis can’t do everything, Con,” Elazar said. “Perhaps you should talk to Lyca and Phaidros about planning a campaign. Galenos can find some maps of Milos that could help us locate Thevetat’s base.”

  Alexis shot Elazar a grateful look. Constantine was right. He’d been too hopeful that magic would prevail instead of a head-on attack.

  Constantine said, “I suppose I’ll have to. Someone has to prepare for a fight.”

  Alexis was about to defend himself when the moíra desmós shuddered. He clutched at his chest, sensing strange magic inside himself. What are you doing now, Penelope?

  “Alexis? What is it?” Elazar rose from his chair.

  “I don’t know. My connection to Penelope is playing up. I should go see if she’s okay. Con, please let me know if you hear back from your contact so I can plan a trip to Rome if needed.” Alexis’s magic beat in his chest, and he hurried through the Archives to the elevator.

  Once upstairs, he whispered a spell, and silvery lines of unfamiliar magic revealed a trail through the palazzo. He followed the trail and found Penelope sitting on the top step of the sheltered canal entrance, her loose yoga pants pushed up to her knees and her feet in the water. She was wreathed in silver power, and a meter-high wave of water was frozen in front of her.

  “Penelope?” whispered Alexis, afraid to scare her and cause the stagnant wave to rush over them. She was deep in a meditative state and didn’t reply. Alexis sat on the stone walkway behind her and created a barrier so that if she did lose control, the water wouldn’t rush in and flood the palazzo. Shutting his eyes, he focused on the shape of the magic in an attempt to figure out how she was holding it. What he found almost shocked him enough to lose hold of the barrier.

  Penelope was holding the wave in place by sheer stubbornness and determination of will. There was no structure to it—no understanding of the energy and matter or the reversal of natural gravity to hold the magic in place. It had taken Alexis years of training to master the ability to manipulate matter. She was doing it because she wanted to. How is this possible? What had Poseidon unlocked in her?

  He didn’t have long to wait before the wave wobbled, and he rushed forward to grab Penelope as she cried out in alarm. The wave crashed over them. It hit his barrier and sucked back into the canal, taking them with it. Alexis held onto Penelope, keeping her upright as his hands found purchase on a metal ring in the side of the entrance wall.

  “Penelope? Are you awake?” As the water finished draining out into the canal, Alexis’s feet found the stone floor, and he dragged her toward the stairs.

  Penelope spat out a mouthful of salt water and pushed her drenched hair out of her face. “Well, that backfired.” She looked up at Alexis, soaked and alarmed, and laughed.

  He sat beside her on the steps. “Would you mind telling me what that was all about?”

  “Aelia and Lyca said Poseidon could make a tidal wave.”

  “And you thought trying it out in the middle of Venice was a good idea?” Alexis struggled to believe the other magicians would encourage her to be so reckless.

  “I wasn’t trying to make a tidal wave. Just one wave. When a little one rolled toward me, I tried to hold it up,” Penelope explained. “Don’t look so mad. You’re the one that said I had to start using my magic before the high tide peaks.”

  “I didn’t mean by practicing alone, Penelope. You could’ve been hurt. I
t’s why magicians become masters and have apprentices, so they can guide their students and ensure they don’t hurt themselves.”

  “I’m not your apprentice, and you are certainly not my master.”

  Alexis rubbed a frustrated hand over his face. “I know that, Penelope. What I’m trying to say is that you need to have one of us near if you want to practice. You do need to learn how to control your magic; I’m only asking you to do it safely.”

  The anger in her eyes softened. “I scared you.”

  “Yes.” He pulled her to him and kissed her wet cheek. “You were holding a damn wave up by yourself. Of course I was scared. You have no idea the complexity of the magic you were working. Tell me how you managed it.”

  “I didn’t really think about what I was doing. There’s a note in one of Nereus’s journals about water and weather magic—a comment written in the margin that says it’s easier to reach out into the water with mind and touch. So I tried it. I put my feet in the water and reached out into it with my mind, like I would in a meditation. I know that doesn’t make sense, but the way water feels has changed since I met Poseidon. It’s so alive, Alexis. If I concentrate, I can feel it like I can feel you.”

  Alexis wanted to find a way to meet Poseidon and shake him for tangling her up in his revenge on Thevetat. He smothered his anger and ran a hand over Penelope’s back. “I don’t understand it, but magic is strange. If that’s how you access your magic and get it to flow, then go with it. We won’t be able to teach you the way we were taught, but we can be here to look after you as you learn. You and I can look at the journals together and find the parts that do work for you. But promise me you won’t try anything like this again without one of us near to protect you.”

  Penelope gripped his sodden shirt. “I promise. I honestly didn’t think it would work. You know I’d never do anything that could harm Venice or us.”