The King's Seal

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The King's Seal Page 23

by Amy Kuivalainen

“Thank God. This was taking far too long.” Zo inspected the contents of the box. His hand paused on the bound leather book. “Strange. I can feel the faint hum of power coming from this.”

  Alexis passed back the lid. “Let’s take it. We can confirm its contents once we get back to Constantine’s house. You know what to do, Zo.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Zo muttered as he leafed through the other documents, checking the box’s entire contents. He spoke Atlantean under his breath, and for the hundredth time, Penelope wished she knew it. Zo used words to harness his magic, and after seeing his poetry, she had no doubt that they would be beautiful. The air beside her shivered like heat waves. Piece by piece, a box appeared, and the contents spun to life out of magic.

  “So that’s how you replicated my piece of the tablet in Greece. No wonder no alarms were raised.”

  Alexis picked up the original box, and Zo finished and slid the counterfeit back in its place.

  “Not a bad night’s work,” Constantine said before they hurried through the dark archives and back to the secret door.

  “Let’s just hope it’s what we’re looking for, and you and Phaidros haven’t made the wrong guess on where to look.”

  “Have faith, Penelope. It was prophesied that you’d find Solomon’s seal ring. I might even let you keep it when we’re done.”

  “Good luck getting it from her,” said Alexis, with only a touch of a threat.

  Penelope tuned them out as they headed back into the catacombs, her mind and the magic under her skin still racing after their brief contact with the box’s contents. It held secrets, and she couldn’t wait to get her hands on them again.

  MARCO COULDN’T REMEMBER the last time he’d had so much time on his hands. He’d spent the last few days working for Isabella, doing all the odd jobs that maintaining the family palazzo demanded. He’d played host to the flurry of guests, tightened door hinges, cleaned rooms, polished furniture, and did whatever else Guilia instructed him to do. They were both determined that Isabella do as little as possible after the recent round of IVF, and while she hated the coddling, she had kept herself to the kitchen, cooking for the guests and their little family.

  Despite the physical labor, Marco was bored. It wasn’t a bad thing. He’d been working like a madman for years now. Maybe if he’d learned the value of slowing down earlier, he could’ve kept one of his girlfriends over the years. The work had always been a bigger issue than personality clashes. He wasn’t sure if he liked this sudden introspection that this time on his hands afforded.

  When Lyca turned up, Marco sent a prayer of thanks up to San Marco and hurried to greet her.

  “What’s happened? Has there been another attack?”

  Lyca stepped out of her boat and gave him an incredulous stare. “Why do you assume the worst when I turn up to visit you? Are you that bored?”

  “Yes.” Lyca would’ve known he was lying if he said otherwise.

  “Too bad. I’ve come for your sister’s coffee and biscotti, not to free you from the confines of your holiday.”

  “Lyca! Buongiorno!” Isabella appeared and took the terrifying assassin into her arms, kissing her cheeks warmly. Isabella was the only person Marco had ever seen be game enough to embrace Lyca apart from Galenos. She had a warmth about her that obliterated any objections.

  “It is good to see you, Bella. How have you been feeling?”

  Isabella took Lyca’s arm and led her toward the kitchen as they chatted like old girlfriends. Marco had introduced them in the weeks after their discovery of Thevetat’s safe house in Venice. It had been Alexis’s idea. If there was any chance that Thevetat could target Marco and his family, he wanted to ensure that Lyca’s presence around them didn’t raise any red flags. Marco often wondered if Penelope knew just how much Alexis took care of things under the radar.

  Alexis had not only sponsored the reconstruction of the bomb sites, but funded restorers and builders to ensure that Venice was put back together exactly as she had been. One night, he’d shown up at Marco’s house and demanded that he drive him around the whole lagoon. He’d done magic—something Marco still couldn’t get over no matter how many times he saw it. “Venice needs more than just me protecting it,” Alexis had said, and his body glowed with blue light as he created warding around the whole city.

  Marco had wanted to argue that there were also the polizia to do their part, but the words died on his lips. His fellow officers had no fucking idea what really attacked them during Carnevale. Gisela knew something didn’t entirely add up, even if she did agree to let Alexis be an informant of sorts. She’d questioned Marco on where Alexis had gotten his information, and he’d done his best not to relinquish any of the magician’s secrets.

  In the kitchen, Isabella set out pretty coffee cups and placed a tray of freshly baked pastries in front of Lyca. “How did you know I’ve been baking this morning?” she asked with a smile.

  “Magic.” Sugar dusted the smarmy grin Lyca gave Marco.

  “Is Penelope still in Rome?” He sat down and took one of the almond treats before Lyca cleared the entire plate.

  “You don’t need to look so worried. She’ll be home soon enough, and she has three big men to protect her.”

  “Marco is always worried. That’s his magic.” Isabella kissed the top of his head before pouring his coffee. “I haven’t seen my brother this much in years.”

  “Don’t pretend you won’t be happy to see me go back to work.”

  “Of course I will. You’re constantly under my feet.” Isabella chuckled. “I’ll go find Guilia. She’s due for a break too.” She left them alone in the kitchen.

  “I worry about Penelope because there are psychopaths hoping she gets the blame for the bombings in Florence. I fear her being attacked by upset citizens more than Thevetat’s people.” Marco let the words tumble out, knowing they only had minutes alone.

  “They won’t be going out in public, and don’t forget she’s sleeping with the biggest psychopath of us all. They’re currently robbing the Vatican and will be home before you know it.”

  Marco crossed himself. “God have mercy on you all.”

  Lyca only smiled. “God will understand. It’s Aelia and Phaidros I’m worried about.”

  “Why? What’s happened?”

  “The documents Penelope has gone to get—they belonged to Caterina Sforza. She and Phaidros were lovers for most of her life. Aelia sided with the Borgias in their wars, mainly because she was jealous.”

  “And bringing up such love and war is going to reopen old wounds? That was a long time ago.”

  “Not so long when you’re as old as us.” Lyca sipped her coffee. “Plus, they slept together a week or so ago.”

  Marco choked on his biscotti. “What?”

  “Surprised me too. You didn’t think you had a chance, did you?”

  “No. Nothing like that. To be honest, Aelia is too much drama for me. I couldn’t keep up with her. I’m only surprised they finally went through with it.” Marco stared at Lyca curiously, and her visit suddenly made sense. “You’re hiding from them.”

  “The argument kicked off about an hour ago. I decided to make myself scarce.” Lyca shrugged. “Also, I wanted to eat some of your sister’s baking.”

  “At least you’re honest. Here I thought you wanted my company.”

  Lyca was still laughing when Marco’s phone rang. As he went to silence the call, he paused at the name. Gisela Bianchi. “I need to take this.”

  Lyca dismissed him with a wave. “More pastry for me.”

  “Buongiorno, Agent Bianchi.” Marco stepped out of the kitchen and into their gardens.

  “Hello, Marco. How’s your holiday going?”

  “Very well. Calm. Relaxing. Lots of family time.”

  “Sounds horrendously boring.”

  Marco laughed. “It is. What’s wrong, Gisela? I know you’re not ringing me because you miss me.”

  “And what if I am?”

  He could almost s
ee that frown line between her lovely brown eyes. “I’d be flattered, but you don’t want to hear about my holiday. Spit it out.”

  “Where’s Penelope?”

  “Rome, with Alexis. A short visit. She’ll be home in a day or two.”

  “Can you please talk her into going in to give a statement? I can’t hold them off any longer, Marco. I gave them everything in the Duilio case. They’ve combed through all of the public research on her discovery and the internet forum chatter around it. There are a lot of crazy Atlantis believers out there. I had no idea how many people see Penelope as their hope to find it.”

  “I’m not sure she’d be pleased to hear that. She’s dealt with many intense fans over the years.”

  “There are some crazy conspiracies, and the authorities want to make sure she’s not secretly stirring these people up. The attacks in Florence were well coordinated, and no matter how many times we take the terrorists’ manifesto video down, another one pops up.”

  “I’ve got someone I can talk to about that. He’ll be able to trace where they’re coming from.” Marco made a mental note to bring it up with Galenos.

  “I have a team for that.”

  “The more people on it, the better. I don’t want anyone blaming Penelope for this atrocity.”

  Gisela made a sound of frustration. “They already are, Marco. That’s what I’m saying. She needs to submit herself to questioning before they drag her in. Please, you’re her friend. Talk to her before it’s too late. It will be worse for her if it looks like she’s being arrested, and I don’t want to think about what her overprotective boyfriend will do to a protestor.”

  “You’re right. I know. I’ll talk to her as soon as she gets back.”

  “Use your policeman tone on her and get her to listen. I have to go. Let me know when she’s going in so I can make sure they don’t botch the interview.”

  “Thanks for the call, Gisela. It was nice to hear from you.”

  “Try not to get too fat as you lounge about all day.”

  “Try not to be too jealous that I got approved for holidays.”

  He almost dropped the phone in surprise when he heard her laugh on the other end of the line. “I’m so tired, Marco,” she admitted, the exhaustion in her voice audible.

  “You’re welcome to come stay in Venice if you want a break.”

  “I might just take you up on that one day.” She hung up before he could reply.

  “What did Gisela want?” Lyca asked, appearing out of nowhere.

  “Dio! Would you mind not sneaking up on a poor man?” Lyca stared at him expectantly. “She wants me to convince Penelope to go give a statement to prove she had nothing to do with the attacks. We also need to ask Galenos to wipe that video off the face of the earth.”

  “Consider it done. I’m glad you’re still on friendly terms with the agent. We might need her before the end.” Lyca sat down on a stone bench.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Milos. That’s where Thevetat’s lair is, and it’s where we will attack him. I’ve been going through it with Constantine—the best ways to approach the island, etcetera. There is going to be a moment—a window of time when Thevetat is going to remove his power from his priests. That’s when we’ll attack.”

  “Will you let me help?”

  “You want to? We will be vastly outnumbered, and they might not have magic, but they’ll have weapons. It will be messy and not at all legal. Are you really willing to risk your life like that? You have a family that loves you.” Lyca’s fierce expression left no doubts about the seriousness of the coming fight.

  “I know, but you’re my family too. I need to see this through, Lyca—no matter how dark or messy. I need to know in my bones that it’s over. I love my family, but they gave up on me being the one to carry on the family name long ago.” The thought still pained him a little, even though he’d accepted that he wouldn’t be the one married and surrounded by children. He’d never admit that he was also secretly relieved the pressure had been taken off him, and the fear that he’d become his father as soon as he had children of his own was something he no longer had to worry about.

  “I won’t let you be on the front line, so you can forget about that. You can still help. I want you stationed at Milos as a tourist, so if we can’t stop Thevetat, you can call in backup. You need to be able to get the word out to another team, and they will bomb the shit out of the compound. Anything to stop Thevetat from leaving the island. Gisela might be able to help coordinate the cleanup with the government and say it was a terrorist operation.”

  “You really believe Penelope will fail?”

  “I can hope and pray that she doesn’t, but I won’t take the risk of not having a backup plan.”

  Marco held out his hand to the magician. “I’m in.” Lyca shook it, and Marco felt the last of his law-abiding morals die.

  THE DEEP TENSION in Alexis’s bones eased as soon as he stepped back onto the dock at the Calle dei Cerchieri. He could feel the solid weave of his wardings around the city and the palazzo stronger than ever, and the buzzing of magic along his skin told him that everything was well. Which was why he was surprised to find broken crockery all over the kitchen and dining area, and Aelia and Phaidros red-faced and snarling at each other.

  Penelope took in the wreckage with wide eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “Alexis and Constantine are back now, so you can go and cry to them about what a horrible person I am.” Phaidros pushed Alexis out of the doorway and stormed off.

  “Aelia?” She was shaking, but she wasn’t in tears, so Alexis counted his blessings.

  “All I did was try to talk to him about Caterina, and he lost his damn mind.” Aelia huffed, and Alexis sensed this was a half-truth. She rested a hand on her cocked hip. “Well? Did you find the slut’s stupid papers?”

  “Whoa, is name-calling really necessary?” Penelope asked.

  “It is where she is concerned.”

  “That’s enough, Aelia. Go cool down, and when you decide to speak like a civilized person, you can return.”

  Aelia turned bright red, but Alexis was stern enough that she was smart enough not to push him. She stormed out of the kitchen, grinding the broken crockery into the tiles as she went.

  Alexis watched her go. “I suppose we should count our blessings that they’ve remained peaceful this long.”

  “I’ll find a broom,” Penelope said.

  “No need. I’ll do it.” Alexis held out his hand and let the pent-up magic inside of him trickle out. The fine grains of glass and porcelain lifted into the air, and the kitchen gradually remade itself.

  Penelope gasped. “Wow.”

  “The high tide has its upsides, including frivolous magic use,” Alexis said, her awe softening the sharper edges of his mood.

  “Then that settles it. I’m not washing another dish until the tide goes down.”

  “Your wish is my command, Archivist.” Alexis bowed.

  “You’re a genie at high tide too? This keeps getting better and better.” Penelope squealed when he dragged her close and planted a kiss on her mouth.

  “I know you’re trying to distract me, naughty Archivist.”

  “Anything to stop you from frowning at lovers’ tiffs that are not our concern.”

  “It’ll become our concern if I can’t get them to work together when the time comes.”

  “That time isn’t now. Don’t worry about it until you need to.”

  Alexis’s eyes narrowed. “This coming from the biggest worrier of us all. Why are you in such a good mood?”

  “Because I’m incredibly nosey and have a box of rare, precious documents to go through and scandalous secrets to uncover. Not to mention a whole bunch of books from Nereus’s Atlantis collection. And I have a handsome man that I can kiss whenever I like,” Penelope said and proved it.

  “All excellent arguments, I must admit. Where would you like to start?”

  “The Archives with the Vat
ican documents. I won’t be able to concentrate on anything else until I have a look through them.”

  Alexis retrieved the box of papers from Constantine’s arms minutes later. “Be careful of Aelia and Phaidros. They are at each other’s throats.”

  “Consider me warned. I’m more interested in talking with Lyca and planning our invasion of Milos anyway. I was always better at war than love.”

  Zo walked past them and headed for the staircase. “That’s certainly what all the women in your life have said…”

  Alexis moved away before another argument started. One was enough for the day. If all else failed, he’d teach Penelope to lock them out of the Archives.

  THE WHOLE next day, Alexis was happily ensconced in Penelope’s office, reading his way through Nereus’s journals, using colorful tabs to mark any places he noticed the strange, unreadable scribble. He was eager for Penelope to translate them for him, so that he could study them before she decided to test out any more of their suggestions. He didn’t mention it to her again, but he had a strange feeling that the small annotations had been scribed by Poseidon. She was curled up on the couch opposite him, reading a storybook about Poseidon.

  Penelope’s phone buzzed angrily on the small coffee table beside her, interrupting the peaceful moment. She cast a glance at the flashing name before sending it straight to voice mail.

  “Someone you’re avoiding, mi amore?”

  Penelope turned back to her book. “It’s Stuart wanting to be an asshole. It’s bad enough that Marco’s been texting me about going to the police to give a statement. I don’t need my father grilling me too.” She stared at Alexis, as if expecting him to say something in her father’s defense, but he knew better.

  “I’m sure you’ll talk to Stuart when you’re ready. Marco is right about the statement though. I don’t trust the polizia to make the right judgment calls without your written explanation.”

  “They haven’t asked me for one, which means they don’t want it. Marco is panicking because he has too much time on his hands. Stopping Thevetat is more important.”

 

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