“‘I offer you this stallion, one who will like it as you ride him hard and deep,’” Penelope quoted. “What a pervert. He sounds like a ranting troll.”
“Thevetat always did attract the broken and sick-minded.” Alexis shook his head. “I hate that they are back again. How could we have become so complacent after last time?”
“You can’t blame yourself,” Nereus said. “You are not in charge of his influences.”
“How did you defeat them before?” Penelope asked.
“We didn’t. Atlantis burned and sank into the bloody ocean,” Nereus snapped. “Haven’t you told her any of this, Alexis?”
Alexis gave his trademark, Italian shrug. “Some.”
“Tell her or I will. Just because you have eternity doesn’t mean she does. Doctor Bryne, stop giggling. It’s unprofessional.”
“I’m not giggling,” she said, swallowing her smile. “I just love how you tell him off.”
“If I didn’t, nothing would get done.” Nereus pulled down her waistcoat primly. “I will get this printed out for you, Alexis, so you can send it on to Marco Dandolo. I’m going to keep her here with me today.” Alexis hesitated, but when Nereus raised a silver brow at him, he bowed and followed Galenos out of the lab.
“You need to teach me how to do that,” Penelope said after they had left.
“I’m quite sure you could get Alexis to do whatever you asked if you put your mind to it,” Nereus replied as she opened the casings of a long, bronze and silver tube.
“What’s that?” Penelope asked, leaning in for a closer look.
“This used to be one of the sacred temple texts on Atlantis.” Nereus removed the thick scroll using its bronze ends, whispering a complex series of words under her breath. As she began to unroll it, Penelope could barely contain her excitement. The edges had been illuminated with gold and indigo in intricate geometric patterns. The script in the neat center columns moved, twisting in various illustrations and back again, revealing maps of cities, star charts, gods rising from the oceans, and galloping stallions.
“Alexis will tell you how we ended, so I’ll tell you a little of our world before it was dragged into the sea.” Nereus touched her finger to a rotating map, bringing it forward. “This is where our beautiful continent once resided. The humans call it the Cyclades Plateau. Yes, you were right about that, Penelope. This is why it was hardly a coincidence that the great tides pushed Alexis’s Tablet onto the shores of Crete.
“Most of the Greek mythology had their roots in Atlantis’s rich black soils. Their Olympus, land of the gods, was inspired by their ancient memories of us, and was spurred on by Phaidros and Zotikos who spent so much time amongst them.”
Penelope gazed at the separation of the ten kingdoms that covered the island and the different terrains each one had.
“Poseidon was our founder, and we paid homage to him, as we did Oceanus of the Titans before him. Poseidon was a great magician, and to people today, as then, he did have god-like powers over water and the seas. His sons were the first rulers of the ten countries of Atlantis, with Atlas as their high king. Whether Poseidon still has any authority over the seas, as Thevetat seems to begrudgingly assume, is a metaphysical debate for another time. You’ll have time to search our history further, Penelope, but this, in particular, is what I wanted to show you.”
Nereus summoned one of the kingdoms to her. It had mountainous ranges that led out into the sea.
“Are they volcanos?” Penelope asked. She desperately wanted to touch the images, but after burning her hand, she knew better.
“Yes, though they were dormant. At the time of Atlantis’s destruction, a king named Kreios ruled here. It was because of him and a high priest named Abaddon that the worship of Thevetat emerged.”
Nereus sat down on one of the stools at the workstation. She looked surprisingly tired as she played with the glass vial pendant on her necklace. “Alexis told me you saw him at the Temple as a young man?”
“Yes, though only briefly,” Penelope replied, remembering the way the gold paint shimmered on his skin.
“Every seven years, the best and brightest of our youths came to the capital, to the temple of Poseidon to be assessed. I was Matriarch of the Magicians Guild at the time, Abaddon was the High Priest of Poseidon. We were rivals in the political sense. Faith and magic have always been separate studies, despite their many crossings. Our biggest and most public argument happened over Alexis.”
Penelope smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.”
“We both wanted him. Abaddon saw a raw power that could be molded in accordance with his design, and he was moved by the petition written so eloquently on the Tablet. Even then Alexis had such a gift for words; the Living Language responded to him without training. I wanted to foster his talents, let them grow and expand without being confined to the rigidity of religion,” Nereus said, her tone growing hot at the memory. “In the end, Alexis chose us, and Abaddon was forever bitter about it. The Council of Kings and Abaddon never got along either, and after one too many interferences and abuses of power, they sent him to the far side of Atlantis with Kreios to oversee the construction of his new temple.”
“If he loved Poseidon so much, how did he turn to the worship of a demon?”
“I’m not sure. All I know is that Kreios always meddled with darker magic, the kind restricted by the guilds. Abaddon wanted power. It has always been his true god. Together they unleashed something that had been hidden since the creation of the worlds.”
“Thevetat. They were the ones who set him free.”
“Yes. Whether they excavated too close to the volcanoes where he was trapped, or they used blood magic to summon him from whatever hell-plane he was living on, we’ll never know. All I know is that Abaddon renounced Poseidon and became Thevetat’s high priest. I thought the Demon and his influence had been destroyed when Atlantis sank, but I was wrong.”
“Do you think humans, after reading Blavatsky’s tales of Thevetat, could have tried to summon him again?” said Penelope. “They may have done it differently to Abaddon and Kreios, but could it have worked?”
“Anything is possible, Penelope. Just look at your destiny knot with Alexis. Ten thousand years apart and yet there it is.” Nereus waved a hand over Penelope’s chest, and a braid of light appeared.
Penelope stumbled backward. “God, I’ve never seen it outside of a meditation like this.”
“But you can feel it, can’t you?”
“Yes, always. The more time I spend near him, the stronger I feel it, like a phantom limb.” She wanted to touch its silvery strands, but she didn’t want to risk Alexis feeling her exploration.
“That’s exactly the way he describes it too; a phantom limb he can’t scratch because you will feel it.”
Penelope paused for a long moment before she asked, “Do you think this knot can cause strong feelings for the person you are tied to?”
“Not necessarily. Most destiny knots are barely noticeable. Yours is unique, but if you are asking if it’s why you and Alexis are circling each other like prowling lions, then no. It’s not how they work. You are feeling that way because of how you and Alexis are. He pulled you back from the very jaws of death, you turned up in his heavily warded tower…it’s not just destiny at work, it’s you as well. You’ve been intriguing him for years, and he’s always been a bit sweet on you, whether he’d admit it or not.”
“So everyone keeps telling me. I don’t know what Alexis finds so interesting.”
“When he came back from Australia, and you were still alive, that’s how we all knew he was soft on you,” Nereus said, with strange fondness in her expression.
“Do you think he would’ve killed me?”
“Why do you think no major search for Atlantis has ever happened? Don’t think of spiritualists or the mythologists. I mean, an actual archaeological search.”
“Because there have never been historically reliable texts that prove it
was more than a story.”
“Oh, there was. They are upstairs in his Atlantis room. Any scholar who became seriously interested met with an untimely end.”
“He killed them all?”
“He defends us and our secrets,” Nereus said sternly. “He never enjoyed doing it, but he still did it. You were the closest to Atlantis, but he couldn’t kill you, so he sabotaged you. We knew you had to be something rare to stay his hand. Can you live with that knowledge and still feel the same way about him?”
Penelope knew he could kill, she had seen him do it, and he had never tried to hide it from her. She understood his reasons for it. The music of his soul was still in her ears, humming in her very cells.
“It doesn’t change how I feel about him,” she answered as a fierce protectiveness welled up within her. “This house, this knowledge, it cannot be left to humans. As for the magicians, they would be dissected, experimented on, studied ruthlessly. There are a lot of good people in this world, Nereus, but even I wouldn’t trust them with Alexis. I barely trust myself.”
“Thank you, I needed to hear it. He’s still the most unique magician I’ve ever seen, and those who are unique in this world are often the most alone. You would know something about that I imagine.” Nereus took Penelope’s hands and gripped them. “Don’t be afraid of it, girl. Don’t measure this connection by normal human conventions. He makes your soul sing, I can hear it in your aura, your music and his.” Nereus closed her eyes, swaying gently to a silent orchestra. “Protect him, Penelope. Whatever happens, protect him.”
AFTER AN EVENING meal with the rowdy magicians, Penelope followed Alexis through the courtyard and into the gardens. They walked along the terra-cotta tile path until they came to a stretch of grass that looked out over the lagoon. Tall lanterns stood in the lapping waters beneath the retaining wall, warning boats of the shallow waters and guiding them into the canals. On the grass, rugs woven in reds, oranges, and earthy browns were stretched out around a large cast-iron brazier.
“Have you stolen the weather again?” Penelope asked as she sat down on one of the flat Turkish floor cushions.
“A night from Istanbul, eight years ago. I felt like being outside. Despite the size of the palazzo, magicians are loud and intrusive even when they aren’t saying anything,” Alexis said, sitting down beside her. He wore another of his elaborately embroidered entari robes made of finely woven burgundy wool. With the firelight warming his ruffled black curls and dark face, he looked like he had stepped out of an Arabian Nights fable. Dressed in black leggings, motorcycle boots, and a khaki knit jumper, Penelope felt starkly modern and aesthetically lacking in the setting.
“I saw Phaidros tentatively asking Aelia if she would play the piano for him—that’s a good sign, right?” Penelope asked as she stretched out.
“That’s a miracle of the old gods and the new,” Alexis replied, shaking his head. “Maybe they are finally giving up on their bickering.”
“And by bickering, you mean their intense sexual frustration manifesting as arguments.”
“That’s exactly what I mean, although if they copulate on my favorite pianoforte, I won’t be impressed.”
Penelope laughed. “Maybe we need to put up ‘respect the antiques’ signs.”
“I’d sacrifice a piano if it stops them fighting with each other.”
“Did you send Nereus’s translations to Marco?” Penelope asked, changing the subject so her mind didn’t start wandering to places it shouldn’t go.
“I did. Marco was disappointed that you didn’t deliver it in person. He also gave me veiled threats about using you for my playboy satisfaction and casting you aside once I’ve had my fill of you.”
“He didn’t.” Penelope was going to throttle Marco with her bare hands.
“He did,” Alexis said, moving closer to her. “His exact words in English, without the profanity, were ‘watch what forbidden fruit you taste, Alexis Donato, even though the taste is sweet. Once you have glutted yourself, be careful not to leave such a tree bare.’”
Penelope’s face warmed. “How poetic of him. And what was your reply?”
Alexis’s long, calloused fingers brushed her jawline as he brought his face closer. “I said that the fruit, when not forbidden, but offered freely,”—he kissed her chastely—“is the sweetest fruit of all. And,”—he kissed her again—“that I have no intention of stripping the tree bare when I leave it, as I have no intention of leaving it at all.” He sat back, taking his warm hands and lips with him.
“I bet that response pleased him.”
“Marco told me he would gut me and toss me into one of the canals,” Alexis said, and Penelope broke into laughter.
She propped her head on the pillows, curling her body so she could watch him. He stared in the flames of the brazier, eyes lost. Her laughter died.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have to tell you a story, but it’s the one I hate the most.”
She reached out and took his hand, brushing her fingers over the bronze and antique silver rings with their strange markings, the bloodstones reflecting red and green in the light. “If it’s going to cause you pain, don’t tell it.”
“You deserve to know, and Nereus will make my life miserable if I don’t. Ten thousand years and I’m still her student, unable to deny her requests. You are much like her; I find I can’t deny your curiosity either.”
“You denied my curiosity for the last decade. You knew I was hunting Atlantis and purposely hid from me,” she replied, twining her fingers with his. He looked down at her, surprised. “Zo told me you read my uni assignment when I was an undergraduate.”
“Bastardo! Can you see why I’ve been so busy all of these years? He never shuts up.”
“I’m sure he thought I would find it charming, as opposed to humiliating.”
“It wasn’t a bad essay. Even then I knew you were going to make trouble for me.”
“I haven’t even begun to make trouble for you, Alexis Donato.”
“Be careful, I don’t want you unknowingly manifesting it. I’ve already had to save you from death once, cara. I don’t relish the thought of having to do it again.” He stretched out and propped his head up on a cushion. “Now, let me tell you how we came to be the seven orphan magicians.”
“NEREUS TOLD you how Abaddon went to Kreios to oversee the building of the new temple. I was still only an apprentice when we received news from a magician living in Kreios’s capital city that Abaddon had a revelation and was now following a new god.
“The magician, Helios, was disturbed by this. Kreios was now dedicating his new temple to a god called Thevetat and not Poseidon. He also wrote to Nereus about a growing darkness within the country’s borders, describing it as the beginning of an eclipse. The High Temple in Atlas discredited Abaddon and voted in a new High Priest, dismissing the new god and his cult as ridiculous and heretical.
“Despite the opposition, Thevetat’s followers grew until less than a year later, Kreios declared that all of his citizens renounce Poseidon for Thevetat. Abaddon had always hated magicians, but Kreios finally gave him the power to do what he wished with them.”
The hand that still rested in Penelope’s trembled slightly, and she tightened her fingers around his.
“I won’t go into the details with you, but I will say that they used any means they felt they needed to carry out their experiments. They wanted our magic; to understand where it came from, how it worked. They wouldn’t believe that magic could be a Divine gift or something that hard work could achieve. Once they felt a magician had nothing left to give them, they sacrificed them to their demon god. They learned how to steal magic within the sacrifice.”
Alexis’s expression darkened as he stared out across the water. “When I saw the Bull on the wall of your hotel, it was like being back in those times; nightmares made real. Once news of the killing of magicians spread, retribution was sought. Instead of submitting themselves to the High King’s justic
e, Kreios and Abaddon started a civil war, breaking away from the laws of Atlantis that Poseidon and his sons had established.
“Their war had only one true purpose: convert or kill. Thevetat’s warrior-priests were sent after magicians. The magicians began to use battle magic so they could fight back. It became compulsory to be proficient in weapons and warfare and to use your power to enhance your ability to defend yourself and others.”
Penelope couldn’t imagine what magic could do to a human body if it was used maliciously. She had seen Nereus heal her own fatal knife wound and she had no doubt that she had the power to harm just as easily.
“I hated it. Magicians had always been scholars, innovators, healers, and advisors; now we had to use our gifts for this horrible purpose. Nereus tried to warn the High King that the magical balance of Atlantis was becoming unstable and that it would have consequences. Apart from magicians, no one could see the magical threat, but they saw the destruction the war was causing.
“For seven years, Atlantis tore itself apart, piece by piece. Zotikos, Phaidros, and I worked together as spies for Nereus. We took no country’s side, only that of magicians. Our goal was to rescue as many as possible. The day our world decided to erupt, we were on a mission. Galenos, Nereus, and Lyca had heard that the princess and high priestess of Poseidon was being held in a camp on the borders of Atlas and Kreios’s kingdoms.”
“The princess—Aelia?” Penelope asked.
“Yes, Aelia. In the time before the war, Phaidros had been terribly in love with her, but due to her position and possibly her father’s plans for her, Aelia had rejected him. She was still our princess. We knew what Thevetat’s priests liked to do to women, especially those with magic.”
Alexis looked at his hands and ran them through his hair. Penelope could feel his anxiety and pain through their knot.
The Immortal City Page 19
