Zo pointed to the strip of beach beneath them. Every few meters, a sacrifice had been pegged in the sand illuminated by burning torches. They all led to a cliff farther up from them and at the base was a cave mouth. Between them and that cave were at least two hundred people; priests and mercenaries.
Constantine rested his hand on the hilt of his gladius. “How nice of them to meet in one place for us.”
“My thoughts exactly, Emperor.” Lyca smiled.
“Six of us, two hundred of them. I almost feel sorry for them.” Aelia’s eyes narrowed at the line of sacrifices. “Almost.”
Galenos cleared his throat behind them. “I do hate to interrupt, but I’ve got what I need from their servers, and the bombs have been set.”
Lyca turned away from the balcony. “Excellent, my love.”
They hurried from the house, heading back through the gardens and out of the blast zone. A wave of nausea rolled over Phaidros, and he stopped in his tracks, breathing heavily as aura colors shuddered over his field of vision.
Aelia stopped too. “What’s wrong?”
After pulling in a deep inhale, Phaidros straightened. “Thevetat’s pulling on the energy and magic of this place. It’s all heading toward the caves. The ritual has started.”
“Excellent. That means we can do this.” Zo pressed the button of a detonator. A resounding boom echoed through the trees, and they all staggered when the shock wave reached them. Plumes of smoke and fire lit the night sky. “Damn, Galenos. How much power did you use?”
“Enough to make sure the job was done properly.”
Phaidros drew his sword and looked to Lyca. “Following your lead, General.”
Her smile was a slash of white in the darkness. “Now, we get our revenge for Nereus, Tim, and what they fucking did to Atlantis.”
The thick, dark shadows of her magic unleashed, and the screaming began.
PENELOPE WATCHED THE villa on the cliffs go up in flames. She heard the explosion from the beach on Paximadi. Alexis stood beside her, face cold. He was dressed in his armor, his chest plate repaired from where it had melted saving Elazar. Swords hung from his back, and knives were strapped to his forearms. He’d settled into that calm, killing place Penelope couldn’t understand or reach.
That morning, Lyca had surprised Penelope with a set of daggers and a chest plate of her own and had shown her how to strap it in place. It had the trident and book of Poseidon engraved into the front, and she could sense the protections that had been hammered into the metal. When she’d thanked Lyca, the other magician had knocked her knuckles against it.
“One of us now,” she’d said and then groaned as Penelope hugged her.
Penelope was now thanking any gods that would listen for Lyca’s gift. She brushed her thumb against Solomon’s ring on her index finger. Please work.
“Are you ready, Penelope?”
“As I’ll ever be.” She stared up at Alexis, her heart full of love and fear. “I love you.”
Alexis kissed her—a brief press of lips, warmth, and reassurance. “I love you too. Let’s end this.” His magic burned brightly under his skin, and he took her hand and portaled across to Milos.
It was like being dropped into Hell. The beach was a chaotic scene of blood and screaming, the magicians and Constantine slicing through the priests of Thevetat. Penelope kept her eyes firmly on Alexis, running after him as he followed the line of sacrifices. A wave of magic poured out of him, and one by one, the bodies went up in smoke, reduced to ashes in seconds.
Alexis had made Penelope promise she wouldn’t engage the priests unless she was forced to, but seeing him now, she wondered why he was worried in the first place. Alexis was death personified. He cut away any priest that dared to face him. It took all her effort to stay out of his way but also follow him closely enough not to be separated.
Behind them, more bombs went off, sending Penelope to the sand. She glanced behind her in time to see the back ranks of priests swing about and open fire on her. Alexis grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to her feet, then threw up a shimmering shield of light between them and the enemy. Bullets struck it, then fell in piles on the sand.
“We’re almost there. Don’t stop,” Alexis shouted to her over the noise and pointed to a cave in the distance. He kept the shield between them and the priests as they ran across the bloodstained sand.
As they drew closer to the cave, Penelope could make out Abaddon and Kreios standing in a circle of torches. In between them was a clay body on a stone altar. Thevetat’s magic hit them, and Penelope was knocked back. The noxious power ripped Alexis’s swords from his hands.
“You just can’t stop interfering, can you?” Kreios said, eyes glowing red.
Penelope tried to reconcile him with the broken and bloody man she’d seen a few days ago. Kreios was right—Thevetat had only wanted him to suffer temporarily. He’d healed his wounds as soon as he took over his body. Alexis cast a bolt of magic at them, only for it to deflect off an invisible field inside the circle.
“Such childish tricks, magician.” Abaddon shook his head. “You’re as bad as your precious Nereus. She never could understand where true power lies.”
“Thevetat will never share his power with you, Abaddon,” Alexis said. “Once he gets what he needs, what use will he have for an old man with no magic of his own?”
“Magicians—only good for one thing.” Thevetat spoke through Kreios’s body, and upon the last word, dark power knocked Penelope to the sand, and her mouth filled with blood. Alexis screamed as magic was ripped from his body.
“Start the ritual now, Abaddon,” Thevetat demanded.
Abaddon spoke in a language that sounded like Atlantean but became harsher and more guttural with every word. Penelope struggled against the invisible power holding her down.
“Alexis!” she shouted, trying to reach where he writhed in the sand.
With one pain-filled eye, he winked at her. Was this a part of his plan to disrupt the ritual? He wasn’t faking the next scream that tore from him. Pale blue light rushed from his body and was dragged into the circle where Abaddon and Kreios chanted. Penelope reached inside for her own magic, trying desperately to call the water to her. Pain split her head, and the spell that Poseidon had placed inside her detonated.
PENELOPE STUMBLED into Piazza San Marco. The sun shone above her, and children ate melting ice creams. A silver-haired woman sat feeding the pigeons, and she turned as the bells of the Torre dell’Orologio began to chime.
“Nereus?”
The old magician’s face went from shock to joy. “So it’ll be you then. Doctor Bryne—I might have known. Alexis isn’t going to be happy to learn you’re the heir. How many years have we got?”
Disorientated, Penelope remembered the words in the first letter that had dropped into her lap on the plane; I foresaw my death five years ago as I sat feeding pigeons in Saint Marco’s square… Nereus had said she’d seen her death, that she’d seen Penelope. Penelope had thought it was a premonition, she never thought it was literal.
“F-five years,” she said. “How is this happening?”
“Poseidon, I imagine. He told me about you.”
“I told him about you too.”
Nereus clicked her tongue. “He was the craftiest magician I ever met to pull this off. Out with it, girl. Tell me how I die and how I can set you on your path.”
The words came tumbling out of Penelope: Nereus’s death, the letters, the citadel rooms and incense, how she’d met with Poseidon and the magic he’d placed in her head.
Nereus cackled with laughter. “It’s certainly his magic doing this. How terribly unnerving for you. Oh well, can’t be helped. You’d best go and stop that fucker Abaddon once and for all.” She gripped Penelope’s hands. “I’m so glad it’s you. Kiss them all for me.”
“I will. Thank you, Nereus.”
“No, thank you, Heir of Gods.” Nereus pressed two fingers to Penelope’s forehead. “Get out of here.”<
br />
PENELOPE WAS back on the beach in Milos in the blink of an eye. She climbed to her feet; whatever Thevetat was using to hold her had melted away. Kreios was slumped beside the stone table, and the clay body atop it unleashed a scream in a language no human tongue could have spoken. Its arms jerked as it sat up. Abaddon continued chanting as the clay began to glow red.
“No,” Penelope commanded, and time slowed. The world lit up around her. The lines of magic that bound Alexis to the ritual were visible in the air. She waved one finger toward him, severing the ties and freeing him. Hot, silver magic streaked out of her and into the ocean at her back. She gripped a wave and pulled it up the shore.
Abaddon’s chanting slowed to a distorted groan as Penelope walked toward them. The clay figure’s red eyes burned with fury as the ocean wave wrapped around it and the infernal heat was put out.
“You can’t stop this with your water tricks,” Thevetat hissed through muddy lips.
The ring on Penelope’s hand glowed as she reached out and took Thevetat by his clay face. The glyphs on the ring shone and shifted, and Penelope could read it at last.
Penelope stared at the sacred Word that had the power to remake all of creation if only she asked it. Thevetat screeched only once as the Word tumbled from her lips. Time normalized, and the clay body exploded into a million pieces under her hand. Her wave dragged the pieces back into the ocean, scattering them in the tide.
The magic released her, and the ring’s glow vanished. She turned and stumbled across the sand to where Alexis lay.
He groaned. “P-Penelope.”
She brushed the bloody hair from his face. “You’re okay. I have you.”
“You did it, cara.” Alexis kissed her. “You did it.”
“It helps to be the heir of gods. I honestly don’t know how much of that was Poseidon and how much was me.” She steadied him as he got to his feet.
Abaddon screeched. “What have you done?!” On his hands and knees, he clawed at the slick mud, all that was left of Thevetat.
“Stay down!” Constantine and the other magicians raced up the beach.
The priests of Thevetat that were still breathing were being herded into groups by men in black tactical gear behind them. Penelope breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted Marco’s curly hair amongst them.
Kreios got to his feet. “Doctor Bryne, I knew you’d do it.”
Abaddon wheeled on him. “What are you talking about? You betrayed me to this woman?”
“Yes, I did, you piece of shit who dragged me into this hell ten thousand years ago, stealing my will and life from me.” Kreios pulled a gun from his belt, and before anyone could stop him, he shot the old man in the face. He tossed the gun to the sand and went down on his knees in front of Aelia, hands laced behind his head. “Now, you may do to me as you wish.”
Aelia’s gladius was at his throat in a blink, her bloody face streaked with tears. “Why should I be the one to judge you?”
Kreios’s black eyes were sincere. “Because it was you who I did unforgivable things too. I should’ve married you and protected you. Instead, a demon forced me to rape you and cut you to pieces. I forfeit my life to you, Princess.”
Penelope held her breath as Aelia’s blade wavered at Kreios’s throat.
“It’s okay, Aelia. Do it.” Kreios shut his eyes.
Aelia gripped his long black hair to yank his head back. She pressed her blade to the skin of his throat. “No. I won’t have your death on my hands today. You were under Thevetat’s control, and as much as I’ve dreamed of causing you the same pain you caused me, I won’t do it. I’m better than Abaddon. I’m better than you.” She let him go with a shove, and he fell backward onto the sand. “Your life is yours once more, but if I ever see you again, I’ll fucking kill you.”
Kreios ducked his head and placed one fist to his chest. “As my princess commands.”
THE SUN’S first rays streamed across the sky as Alexis joined Penelope at the water’s edge. Poseidon’s power still called gently to the waves, but it lay quiet and dormant under her skin. Alexis took her hand, and they watched the sunrise.
“We survived,” she said, needing to say the words aloud to make them real.
“We did, and my great plan to interrupt the ritual didn’t work a single bit.”
“You mean your great plan to let Thevetat pull your magic out of you and with it a disruption spell? When I have the energy, I’m going to give you the lecture of your life for trying something so damn foolish.”
Alexis’s smile widened despite her tone. “I’ll take whatever punishment you see fit, but first, tell me what happened.”
“You’re not going to believe this…”
She told him about Poseidon’s magic taking her to Nereus, the wave of power inside her, and how she could finally read the Word. She couldn’t remember what it sounded like, but she knew how it had felt. With every word, Alexis’s grip on her tightened. Tears of exhaustion and relief were streaming down her face by the time she finished. He kissed them from her cheeks, and she tasted the salt on his lips as they found hers. They shook as they held on to each other.
Up the beach, the other magicians were seeing to their wounds and arguing about something she couldn’t hear. They were damaged, but they were whole, and now that Thevetat was gone, they were safe.
Alexis brushed a thumb over her cheek, his indigo eyes full of love and magic as he stared into hers. “Tell me, Doctor Bryne, what would you like to do now that you’ve saved me and the rest of the world?”
Penelope smiled wide, and the lost magic on the ocean floor began to pulse.
IT WAS ANOTHER sunny day, and the Aegean shone like a clear aqua gemstone. Penelope pulled her wet suit on, the material cool against her skin, and made sure her seams were straight. Her phone beeped, and a photo came through of Aelia and Phaidros, half-naked on a beach somewhere, with strict instructions not to work too hard. Penelope smiled and ignored the advice, just as Aelia knew she would.
It had been two months since the magicians clashed with Thevetat and Abaddon, and they had all scattered to recover and deal with the ongoing high tide. Alexis and Penelope had gotten on a sailboat and hadn’t left the Greek islands for the last month. She couldn’t remember ever being so relaxed.
She’d received one message from Kreios since, and while she didn’t know if they would ever get to the point of being friends, she was reluctant to abandon him altogether after everything they had been through.
Alexis came up on deck. “I swear, if I get one more message from Zo asking me about paint colors for the kitchen in the palazzo, I’m going to change my number.”
“Just do what I do and give him such horrible suggestions that he stops asking.”
The Greek sun had tanned Alexis’s skin and streaked his hair with gold, and he was looking more and more like a corsair she’d run away with and less like the scholar in his tower.
He zipped up her wet suit and planted a kiss on the back of her neck. “What are you smiling about?”
“I’m starting to see the value of holidays in the Greek islands with incredibly handsome men.”
“Cara, you are diving for Atlantis relics. You’re still working.”
“That is my idea of a holiday.”
“I know. Don’t worry. I’m not complaining. I’m stress-free and alone with a beautiful woman where I can’t be interrupted by meddling magicians.”
“Does this mean I’ve stopped giving you gray hairs already?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. I still have valid concerns that you’re going to stumble across a magical relic down there and get yourself into trouble.”
Penelope put her arms around his neck. “But if I do, you can come rescue me, and you love doing that.”
“Stop trying to distract me from being worried about you being in danger,” Alexis said, even as his arms went around her, drawing her close.
“Why? It’s working.” Penelope went up on her tiptoes to kiss hi
m.
“I’m serious, Doctor Bryne. Remember the rules.”
“I haven’t forgotten our deal, my love. I get to look for Atlantis relics on the proviso that you get to study anything magical I discover, and then I get to write papers on anything of a safe and mundane nature that I find,” Penelope recited and crossed her heart.
“Don’t you forget it, cara. You’ve got that gleam in your eye that tells me Poseidon’s magic is picking up on something.”
“It woke me up last night, so I just know it’s going to be something good.” Penelope bounced on the balls of her feet.
Alexis laughed at her enthusiasm. “I can feel that new gray hair already. Your tank has three hours of oxygen left, so don’t forget to set your watch.”
“I will. It’s not going to take me three hours to find it—it’s so loud.”
Penelope put the rest of her dive gear on, and Alexis gave her a final kiss. “I love you. Be careful.”
“I love you too, and I’m always careful. You know me.” Penelope laughed, then flipped off the back of the boat and into the sea before he could argue.
She let the blue waters drag her under before she reached out with her magic and sent out her command: Show me. As the current pulled her through the water, a thrill ran up her spine. There was a pulse, an answering call of strange power that she could only identify as Atlantis.
Penelope smiled around her regulator and sent it a reply: I’m coming for you.
Amy Kuivalainen is a Finnish-Australian writer who is obsessed with magical wardrobes, doors, auroras, and burial mounds that might offer her a way into another realm. Until that happens, she plans to write about monsters, magic, mythology and fairy tales because that’s the next best thing. She enjoys practicing yoga and spending her time hanging out with her German Shepherd, Duke in the beautiful city of Melbourne.
Her upcoming Firebird Faerie Tale series combines Russian and Finnish mythology with legends, magic, the mysterious firebird and her love of reluctant heroes. Cry of the Firebird, book one in the series, will release in October 2021 from BHC Press.
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