The Immortal City

by Amy Kuivalainen

  “I promise,” she managed, her tongue heavy in her mouth. One kiss on the palm of her hand had been more seductive than anything she had experienced in a long time. The desire to kiss Alexis grew so painful that she removed her hand from his and took a cautious step back.

  “I’m happy that the Tablet is finally back together,” she said, looking at it so she wouldn’t look at him. “I understand now what Nereus meant about the language being alive.”

  “It’s a powerful gift, but a neutral one. That’s why Thevetat’s followers have twisted it, using its strength to enhance their spell,” Alexis explained. “We need to stop them, Penelope. There’s no way they could’ve intuitively found this knowledge. Something or someone has been teaching it to them.” His eyes softened with concern as he looked her over. “Part of me wishes you would return to Australia to be away from this. From what is about to happen.”

  “But I’ve only just found you,” Penelope said without thinking. “I mean the mystery, Atlantis, this history, all of it! I want to stop the Acolyte from hurting anyone else. Don’t you even think about trying to send me back, Alexis. Or trying to Atlantis mind-wipe me again. We can stop them together. You know the police won’t be able to.” She felt the connection inside of her chest squeeze and pull. What would happen if she left Venice? Would it be torn from her or lie dormant? Would she ever be able to feel or find him again?

  “I wouldn’t dream of trying to send you away. I know you’d just try and find them on your own,” Alexis replied, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I agree that we can only stop them together. I only said it because I don’t want you getting hurt, and if I were a better man, I would never have let you find your way here. But I did. I don’t have the strength to fight fate anymore. We do this together, Penelope Bryne, or not at all.”

  “Together then. It’s a deal.” Penelope stuck out her hand.

  Alexis gave it a gentle shake. “Let’s get Nereus to look at you before you decide to grab any more magical artifacts.”

  They found Nereus in her lab, writing furiously in a journal. Her gray head snapped up as soon as they entered. “What’s happened, Penelope?”

  “I touched a magical object when I wasn’t supposed to,” she said and held up her palm.

  “Come here, let me look at it.” Nereus gestured, and Penelope sat down on an old wooden swivel chair. Nereus took her hand and instantly glared at Alexis. “This feels like your magic. What did you do?”

  Alexis folded his arms defensively. “I didn’t do anything. We put the Tablet back together, and when the magic in the engravings was reworking itself, Penelope decided it would be a good idea to run her hands all over it.”

  “Hades take you, Alexis,” Nereus cursed. “What did you think she was going to do when confronted with something like that?”

  “It told me to,” Penelope mumbled under her breath, and the two magicians stared at her.

  “What do you mean?” Nereus asked, her voice gentle again.

  “It was the same when I found the corner. It’s like it…wanted me to touch it,” Penelope struggled to explain. “I didn’t know it was going to burn me.”

  Nereus looked back at the scars on Penelope’s hand and whispered something under her breath. The smell of lemongrass and ice filled the room, and Penelope felt the buzz of Nereus’s magic. “Look there,” Nereus whispered. Bright words surfaced on Penelope’s skin before disappearing again, leaving it normal-looking once more. “The Living Language from your Tablet has gone inside of her. Fascinating.”

  Penelope stared at them wide-eyed. “What’s it going to do?”

  “I have no idea!” Nereus said cheerfully. “It might go away in time, or you might get some ability. Magic is strange that way.”

  “But she’s human,” Alexis pointed out.

  “So were you once. Magic chooses who it chooses, and it’s not very much that’s inside of her. A few lines of text at the most.” Nereus released Penelope’s hand. “It won’t hurt you, Penelope. As I said, it will most likely just go away. It could help explain your knot.”

  “My knot?”

  “Oh, Alexis will tell you all about it.” Nereus waved a hand impatiently. “Off you two go, I’ve got something to finish before dinner tonight.” Penelope held her hand to her chest as she got up. Nereus’s tone was lighthearted, but there was a look in her eyes that made Penelope uneasy.

  ALEXIS PORTALED Penelope back to her rooms and with a muttered excuse made a quick exit. He looked unnerved, which did nothing to help convince her that the magic under her skin was nothing to worry about. She paced her rooms, obsessing over his words, Nereus’s explanations, the Tablet, and the way she swore she could still feel his lips against her scarred palm.

  Penelope had never believed in fate or destiny, but from the moment she saw Alexis in the tower, she knew they were connected somehow. She could feel the line of light growing more prominent, tying her and the magician tighter together. Now the Tablet, his Tablet, had marked her. The magic might just go away, as Nereus said.

  Penelope bit her lip, hugging herself to soothe the anxiety filling her stomach. What would happen after they found the murderer? Would the invitation to the palazzo in Dorsoduro be rescinded? Would she ever be satisfied going back to her old life? What if the pieces of the Living Language inside of her made it impossible to leave? She hadn’t liked the way Nereus had said abilities. What abilities?

  The last few weeks had been dangerous, but they also made everything Penelope had worried about before seem pointless. What happened to the few humans that were given the privilege of knowing about these magicians? Could they ever live a normal life afterward? Or would Alexis simply take her memories away again, leaving a space inside of her that she’d never understand, and never be able to fill?

  Penelope leaned against the window sill, breathing in the salty air to try and calm the sudden and painful panic building inside of her. Get it together, Penelope. You are letting your emotions get the better of you. Find a way to control it. You know you can.

  She kicked off her Doc Martens and folded herself over to touch her toes. The soft Persian rug under her hands wasn’t exactly a yoga mat but was thick enough to cushion her as she moved from a downward dog to a plank pose. The tightness in her shoulders screamed as she stretched.

  “You need to tuck your hips in a little tighter,” Aelia instructed from the other side of the room. Penelope wobbled unsteadily. “May I show you?”

  “Ah…sure,” Penelope replied.

  Aelia’s hand pushed gently on her lower back and realigned her hips. “It feels tighter, but it will help your energy flow easier between the crown of your head and your feet.” Aelia stretched out next to her. In leather leggings, a bright kaftan top, and heavy jewelry, she was the most glamorous yoga instructor Penelope had ever seen. “Did you forget about our talk?”

  “No,” Penelope lied. “I was just trying to clear my head. We put the Tablet back together, and I started feeling a bit overwhelmed.” Alexis kissed my hand and a Tablet put words in me and I don’t know what to do, she added mentally.

  “I can see from your energy that your mind is split in three different ways. It’s almost like you’re bottled up. You need to get this blocked energy moving or you’ll give yourself a migraine. Come up into a warrior with me.” Aelia moved gracefully, placing a bare foot between her hands and spiraling upward.

  “You don’t seem nearly as terrifying as I was led to believe,” Penelope commented. She wondered if Phaidros planned on returning to the palazzo at all.

  “Terrifying? No. But I’ve been known to be intimidating.”

  “You don’t say,” Penelope mumbled as she moved into her warrior. Once again, Aelia made microadjustments to her pose. “So what is the nomenclature for a female magician? Surely not a witch.”

  Aelia made a small choking sound. “A witch? Hardly. Magicians are simply magicians. It never mattered about sex. I like these rooms; sometimes the palazzo and Alexis do get t
hings right.”

  “Alexis?”

  “His tower, his rooms.” Aelia smiled, and it was like sunshine. “You’re quite pretty, aren’t you? What’s your blood?”

  “Irish, Australian, and a touch Māori,” Penelope replied. “Dad is full Irish, and mom is half and half. I was born in Australia.” She was certainly more open and friendlier than Penelope expected her to be, even if she jumped topics three times in one sentence.

  “An Irish-Australian girl with a Greek heroine’s name,” Aelia said thoughtfully.

  “My father loves the classics. I’ve always found the name too sweet for my nature.”

  “Penelope was fierce and clever and steadfast; most cunning and honorable,” Aelia argued as they both straightened again. “It’s a good person to be named after. You have those attributes from what Alexis tells me. He’s very taken with you, but then he’s been intrigued since you found his piece of rock. I think it’s rather nice you two have come together even if you argue with each other.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly put it that way. It was more me frustrating him to the point he couldn’t avoid me,” laughed Penelope. “I’m stubbornly persistent when something has my attention.”

  “Alexis could avoid anyone for a millennium if he wanted to. You’re a mystery to him, and nothing frustrates Alexis like a mystery,” Aelia said fondly. “I wonder if you would be strong enough to handle the intensity of his affections, Penelope Bryne.”

  “Affections? What are you talking about?” Penelope dropped awkwardly out of her pose.

  “I’m merely asking you, politely, not to encourage him romantically if you only want a holiday fling. He’s not that kind of man. He doesn’t give his friendships lightly and will let even fewer into his confidence or his bed.”

  Penelope couldn’t hold in her bafflement. “I appreciate your concern for him, but we’ve only crossed over to being friends. I don’t think he’s interested in the way you are implying.”

  “For a clever girl, you’re good at ignoring the obvious. You’re in his tower, not any old guest room of the palazzo. He’s put you under his protection, in his domain. This isn’t neutral territory; he’s claimed you as his, and he wants Phaidros and everyone else to know it.”

  “You are reading too much into it,” Penelope said as her heart gave a strange little flutter in her chest. Aelia rolled her eyes and started going through the wardrobe.

  “Whatever. I know Alexis. Let’s hope there is something decent in here for you to wear to dinner tonight,” she said, pulling clothes aside. “We haven’t been all together in eighty years, and it deserves a nice dress. Let’s see what the house has…perfect!” She pulled out a dark green dress, loose and long like a kaftan, and heavy with golden embroidery.

  “I don’t know. I’m not really—” Penelope began, but Aelia was already finding a matching slip and shoes.

  “I haven’t had a woman to get ready with in years, Penelope. Let me pamper you for one night in the spirit of sisterhood between us,” said Aelia, her violet eyes glowing with good-natured humor.

  Penelope relented to her enthusiasm. She missed Carolyn’s female company. She needed to get her mind off Alexis and the murders, and Aelia was nothing if not distracting.

  TWO HOURS later they walked down the stairs together. Penelope felt like an eastern princess in her dress, despite her initial reluctance. The outer layer was sheer green chiffon, bright gold embroidery framing the neckline, with dripping patterns down her front. Underneath was a flowing shift that moved around her in soft waves.

  Aelia had tamed Penelope’s dark hair into curls and made up her eyes in greens, golds, and heavy black liner. Penelope loved eye makeup but so rarely had the opportunity to wear it. Aelia had given her heavy bronze bracelets with twisting eastern designs and painted her hands with golden henna.

  Aelia wore gold and cream and was as stunning as Helen of Troy. Penelope could imagine her launching a thousand ships and then laughing as she watched them burn. Like the other magicians, there was an unknowable streak in her that made her company exciting and unpredictable. Penelope couldn’t help wondering what Phaidros’s reaction would be to Aelia’s presence. She had tried to raise the nature of their animosity, but Aelia had smoothly changed the subject.

  Penelope followed Aelia to one of the most beautiful spaces she had been inside the palazzo. It was designed like a Roman atrium with an elaborate view of the canal and was half garden, half water feature. Penelope stepped carefully over paths built over channels of water to an island with a large, low square table and long flat cushions for people to sit and lounge on. Moroccan lanterns of all shapes and colors illuminated the space in a soft, warm glow.

  Zo greeted them both with warm kisses. “You two look divine. I hope you are hungry. Drink some of this wine, Penelope. I pressed the grapes myself.” He placed a goblet in her hand, and she sipped, enjoying the heavy notes of citrus and honey. He was dressed in loose pants and a formal thawb made of black silk. Enthusiasm radiated off him as she complimented him.

  “Be careful of Zo’s wine,” Phaidros said from behind her. “It’s deceptively strong.” He was dressed similarly to Zo but in brick red that made his golden hair shine. He bowed to them formally. “You are looking as lovely as always. I’m so pleased you’ll be joining us, Penelope. I don’t believe I can recall the last time we had a human in attendance at such a gathering. Can you, Aelia?” He was such a vision of politeness that Penelope almost asked him how much of Zo’s wine he had already consumed.

  “It has been too long,” Aelia agreed. “After spending an afternoon with Penelope, I agree with Nereus that Alexis chose his new friend extremely well.”

  “He did indeed,” came Alexis’s voice through the greenery. He was in dark blue and had his hair pulled back into a messy knot. Penelope took a large drink of her wine as he stepped barefoot over the channels of water to join them. She didn’t know why, but there was something about his naked brown feet that seemed weirdly intimate. His sleeves had been pushed up his long brown forearms, and he wore thin bronze bracelets around his wrists.

  His eyes ran up and down her, and everywhere his gaze lingered, her skin tingled. Every platonic thought she had in her head seemed to vanish as he bent down to kiss her cheek, a smile edging the corners of his mouth. Heat flooded from the spot and butterflies started to flap inside her stomach.

  “You’re looking festive, Doctor Bryne,” he said. He took her wine from her, sipped it, and gave it back. “Zo is trying to impress you. This is his favorite vintage.”

  “Phaidros has already warned me to be careful,” Penelope said, sounding awkward even to herself.

  “Doesn’t sound like something he’d do.”

  “I’m protecting her virtue from being stolen,” Phaidros replied from where he lounged, propped up on colorful cushions.

  “I hate to break it to you, but my virtue was fumblingly pick-pocketed years ago,” Penelope joked, taking a seat.

  Phaidros laughed loudly, lifting his goblet to her. “May the gods bless fumbling pickpockets,” he exclaimed, “and to better thieves in the future.”

  Penelope clinked her cup against his. “Fingers crossed.”

  “Don’t encourage him,” Alexis chastised playfully, stretching out behind her on the backless couch, resting on his side in an almost protective position. Penelope caught Aelia’s gaze, one that seemed to say, Didn’t I tell you?

  Nereus arrived dressed in dark aqua, Lyca in gray and silver, and Galenos is his customary green and gold. Aelia’s determination for everyone to dress up had worked. They looked like vibrant birds of paradise, a sliver of a forgotten time and luxury.

  “Alexis tells me your poetry is better than your cooking, Zo. Should I be worried?” Penelope asked as he began to place huge platters and more wine on the table. There was already an elaborate display of fruit and flowers, steaming bread, cheeses, and nuts. He seemed determined to fill every inch of the table.

  “It was meant as a comp
liment,” Alexis said beside her. “Zo’s food is good, but his poetry is exceptional.”

  “Stop kissing his ass, Alexis, or he’ll start reciting it,” said Lyca.

  Zo responded with a long stream of smooth Italian verses, as he poured Penelope more wine.

  “Quoting Dante with dinner, I’m impressed,” she smiled. Inferno was one of her favorite poems during her university years, her patchy Italian the result of her loving the flow of the sounds in its native language.

  “Sure, Dante.” Zo rolled his eyes cheekily before disappearing back through the greenery.

  “No way,” gasped Penelope. She turned on Alexis. “Tell me he isn’t.”

  “The poetry is his, the name isn’t,” Alexis replied with a shrug. “Even immortals need to get their art out somehow.”

  “It’s all saying one thing and meaning another,” Lyca complained. Her pale gray eyes held none of the cold violence Penelope had seen the night she was pulled from the canal.

  Galenos stared openly at Lyca’s strong figure, shown off in a tight, plain gray dress and adorned with a beaten silver neck cuff and bracelets. It was a stare so hot, it made Penelope think they were lovers, though the quiet, reserved Galenos with the violently beautiful Lyca seemed like an uneasy match.

  “You had best pour me a big goblet of that wine, Phaidros,” Nereus instructed. “I’ve got a terrible headache from staring at those spells all day.”

  “Did you have any luck?” Penelope asked eagerly.

  “Some, but I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight I want a good meal with my adopted children, and Aelia to sing to me.”

  “Only if Phaidros will play,” Aelia insisted, almost shyly.

  His golden eyes slid over to and then away from her. “Fine. Whatever you command, Princess.”

  “Do you think she knows what she does to him?” Penelope whispered to Alexis as she ate some grapes from a platter. Everyone had drifted off into their conversations as the wine flowed.