The Immortal City

by Amy Kuivalainen

  It was a cold night, but Penelope didn’t feel it under the layers of fabric and shielded by the cape and hood that Aelia insisted she wear to protect her hairstyle from the wind. In contrast, the more tousled Aelia’s hair became, the more wildly gorgeous she looked. Marco was visibly struggling to look anywhere else.

  “Stop flirting, Aelia. He’s only mortal, and if he crashes this boat before I see Alexis tonight, I’ll blame you,” Penelope whispered tersely.

  Aelia pouted. “It’s Carnevale, and you are forbidding me to flirt? It’s not going to happen. Besides, I have a weakness for Dandolos and this one is a particularly delicious throwback to a more heroic time.”

  “He has enough to worry about tonight and so do you,” Lyca said, her voice cutting sharply through the roar of the engines.

  “I’d definitely give him something to worry about.” Aelia laughed.

  The police boat was allowed to dock at a small jetty at the Torre dell Arsenale, and a uniformed officer jumped in to relieve Marco. He stared openly at the women who got out, but Marco gave him sharp instructions, and his young face became serious once more. Marco produced a traditional black leather bauta mask and Aelia tied it firmly into place for him.

  “We have nearly fifty officers patrolling the grounds,” he told Penelope as they walked along the wide concrete paths. “Bianchi called in some favors, so we have DIGOS here tonight too. They will ensure nothing happens, Penelope, especially to you.”

  “Thank you, Marco. I’m sure if it does there will be enough people here to stop them. Did you confirm that Tony Duilio is on the guest list?” asked Penelope.

  “He is, and he’s been attending as many functions as he can while stirring up discontent,” Marco confirmed.

  People crowded the walkways, some dressed even more intricately than Penelope, and she felt a buzz of excitement despite the business of the night. The closer they came to the main building, the more performers and sellers were spread out on the grounds. It was like an outdoor market of the fantastical, beautiful, grotesque, and bizarre. There were carts selling warm spiced nuts, gelato, thick hot chocolate, wine, and paper cups of deep-fried shrimp and tiny octopuses.

  They had only just been ushered through the doors of the party when Penelope felt a little pull inside of her chest. Lyca had vanished the moment they entered the building, but Aelia stayed close beside her, keeping the crush of people away from her.

  “I need to find Alexis,” Penelope said to Aelia over the thrum of the music.

  “Give it a moment, and he’ll find you,” she said, her violet eyes sparkling. She slipped her arm around Marco’s, saying something in Italian that made the inspector laugh loudly.

  Penelope looked around her, trying to spot Alexis’s tall build over the colorful crowd. She tried to focus on their knot, giving it a slow, mental stroke. She felt a shiver of desire roll back to her and couldn’t hold in her smile.

  Isn’t that interesting?

  Penelope stood still as the crowd streamed around her, and very purposely touched the connection again, her mind conjuring the thrumming tingles he had caused when realigning her chakras.

  “If you do that again, Penelope Bryne, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here,” a warm voice threatened from over her right shoulder. “Although now that I see you, I’m tempted to do that anyway.”

  As she turned to face Alexis, the laughter died on her lips. He wore a Sherwani style jacket of turquoise and purple silk, heavily embroidered with the same creatures and symbols as her dress. The high collar was decorated with tiny pearls in intricate designs. Slimly tailored sea-green trousers disappeared into leather boots. His mask was a masculine version of hers, vividly gold against his black curls. His eyes had been lined with black kohl and glowed with a dark blue fire. He bowed before taking her hand and kissing her knuckles.

  “Fuck,” was all she could manage.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment. La mia bella donna,” he said. He looked her up and down in a way that made heat flare up her spine. “You look outstanding.”

  “You did warn me that magicians didn’t know how to dress mundanely to Carnevale,” she said, tilting her head back as he drew her closer. Their lips were almost touching when someone exclaimed, “There you two are! I’ve been looking all over.”

  “I’m going to kill him,” Alexis rumbled in the back of his throat as Phaidros joined them.

  “Later,” Penelope whispered. “Jesus, Phaidros. Between you and Aelia, there must be no gold left in all of Venice.”

  “Why? Is she copying my style again?” the magician asked. “Sol Invictus is a man!” He was dressed in gold from the sunburst crown on the top of his head to the laced-up boots at his feet. He looked like he had wandered out of a Roman orgy with a toga and cape. Like Aelia, he wore elaborate gold and black makeup.

  Penelope laughed. “You have dressed to match each other without even realizing it.”

  “The palazzo produced this costume, and I just went with it!” Phaidros defended. “Where did she go?”

  “Find Marco Dandolo, and she won’t be far away,” she suggested. “They walked away giggling together.”

  Phaidros narrowed his amber eyes. “Is that so?” He disappeared into the crowd again.

  “Poor Marco,” Alexis said, shaking his head. “You probably shouldn’t have told Phaidros that.”

  “They can sort it out,” Penelope said. “Besides, it got rid of him.” She stood on her tiptoes and stole the kiss that had been interrupted.

  “You’re making excellent bait tonight,” Alexis said against her lips. “Good enough to eat.” He pulled her closer to him, and they swayed to the gentle music the orchestra had started to play.

  “Is that so?” Penelope smiled up at him. “This plan might not be as great as the polizia thought. No one is going to know who anyone else is in this crowd.”

  “This’s a private party. The more public Carnevale experience is happening in the next building down,” Alexis explained. “Everyone in this room is considered to be someone.”

  “Signore Donato,” interrupted a plump man in a tight red brocade coat. “I haven’t seen you in a year! Where have you been hiding?” He looked Penelope over approvingly, as if she explained Alexis’s absence.

  “I’ve been traveling, Maximillian, hunting new acquisitions,” Alexis said vaguely. “Doctor Penelope Bryne, this is Maximillian Ceni, purveyor of the rare and antique.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Penelope said, smiling politely.

  “The Doctor Bryne that finds mysterious and beautiful objects in the ocean?” Maximillian asked, his eyes shining with interest.

  “The one and the same.”

  Penelope expected the usual glib comment about her work, but instead, he produced a thick white card with gold edging and presented it to her.

  “Va bene. I see the picture in the paper the other day didn’t do you any justice at all. Those terrible vultures, pay them no mind, bella.”

  “I’m not. Besides, they are more interested in Alexis than me.”

  “You underrate yourself. If there’s anything else of interest that you pull from the sea, please give me a call.”

  “Grazie,” Penelope said, knowing she would never sell anything ancient to a dealer.

  “Alexis, call me soon, yes? I’ve items which might interest you. Make sure you give this beautiful lady the night of her life.”

  “I promise,” Alexis said as the man moved away. “Give Maximillian ten minutes, and the entire room will know who you are and that you are my consort. If our killer is here, he will seek you out.”

  “You don’t think the killer could have bought his vessels from him?”

  “No. If he had received anything like that, he would have called me first. There are certain cultures and time periods I have the first choice on.” Alexis bent down and kissed the tip of her ear. “It was him who told me that you had found my Tablet.”

  Everyone Penelope met in the follo
wing hour wanted to know how she had managed to capture Alexis, the elusive bachelor, while also passing over business cards to try and get her to secure his acquaintance.

  Penelope had been to many seminars and networking events as an academic, so she tried to fall into what Carolyn liked to call her “Meet and Greet” face. She was starting to wish she hadn’t drunk her third glass of champagne and sent Alexis away for a fourth when a slender man in a neat black suit appeared before her. He wore a Medico della peste mask, the kind that had always given Penelope the creeps.

  “Dottore, it’s a pleasure,” the man said. “Tony Duilio, at your service.” He lifted the long-nosed mask off so he could kiss her hand, leaving a wet spot she wanted to wipe away. He couldn’t have been older than thirty, but his black eyes seemed intense and ageless in his young face. The black, geometric tattoo stood out on his light brown skin.

  “Tony Duilio, the brilliant engineer and entrepreneur?” Penelope asked with her most dazzling smile. “What a pleasure. I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “From this decrepit old crowd, you probably heard all lies,” he said with a cynical laugh. “I’m an admirer of your work; it takes boldness to follow a path no one else can see but you. In that way, we are much alike.”

  “I’ve read about your floating hotels. What a fascinating feat of engineering.”

  “Thank you. What brings you to Venezia, Doctor Bryne? Have you come to watch the great folly that is MOSE come online?”

  “No, that’s a happy coincidence. I’m here to visit friends,” she replied, trying to keep it light and pleasant. There was definitely something unnerving about the young man. He was standing close enough that she could smell the strange aroma of smoky incense coming from him.

  “And your friends have left you alone at such a party? Shame on them. This crowd hates anyone and anything remotely new. If they had their way, Venice would be dragged back to the days when the Libro d’Oro actually meant something.”

  Penelope laughed. “Surely it’s not that bad. La Serenissima is still beautiful.”

  “For now, but when the planet gets a little bit warmer, MOSE or no MOSE, Venice will be taken by the sea. I’ll watch it happen, and they’ll cry they didn’t have the vision to support me when they had the chance.”

  There was something threatening in his tone that made Penelope uneasy. She was saved from having to answer as Alexis appeared, slipping his arm casually around her waist.

  “Here you are,” he said warmly. “I apologize for leaving you alone, amore, but I see you’ve made a friend.”

  “Alexis, this is Tony Duilio,” she said. “We were just talking about Venice and engineering.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about you, Alexis Donato. What an interesting party this’s turning out to be,” Tony said, without offering to shake Alexis’s hand. “Is it true that you are a smuggler?”

  “A smuggler?” Alexis laughed loudly. “You’ve been listening to too much gossip. I admit, I’m a collector and an academic dilettante, but I do it the legal and boring way.”

  “What a shame. I have a few things on my procurement list I’d have loved a connection to get my hands on, legal or otherwise. It was nice to meet you both, but I have a few clients I really must speak with tonight. If they don’t eat up all my time, I might come back and steal your lovely partner for a dance, Donato.” Tony pulled his plague mask back over his face and disappeared into the crowd.

  “There’s something wrong with that young man,” Alexis said, the falseness gone from his tone.

  Penelope wiped the back of her hand against her skirts. “I know what you mean. Charismatic, but creepy. I doubt he would get his own hands dirty, but I could see him encouraging others to do so.”

  Marco found them half an hour later, looking harassed. “I don’t know what is wrong with these friends of yours, Penelope, but I’m worried it’s going to lead to bloodshed.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked.

  “Aelia’s arguing with some golden man,” Marco said.

  Alexis groaned. “Ignore them. They are always like that. They will be okay.”

  “Really? Because she told me that sword was fake, but she’s pulled it on him and—” Marco didn’t finish before Alexis was hurrying through the crowd.

  “It’s okay, Marco. They are old friends. They won’t hurt each other,” Penelope said unconvincingly. “Alexis will calm them down.”

  “They act like ex-lovers,” Marco said. “She didn’t like that he had dressed to match her…I don’t understand women. Speaking of women, I need to check in with Bianchi. Will you be okay by yourself?”

  “Of course I will, here’s Alexis now.” Penelope watched the tall magician move through the press of people.

  “I’ll meet you back here soon,” Marco said. “You two look adorable together.”

  Penelope groaned. “Oh, shut up.”

  “Alone at last,” Alexis said after passing Marco who gave him a nod.

  “That was quick. I thought you would be breaking up that fight for hours.”

  “Minor misunderstanding.” Alexis leaned in closer to whisper in her ear, “Let’s find somewhere quieter.” His hand was cool and soft as he pulled her around the crowd and through a door behind the stage.

  “I don’t think we are allowed to be back here,” Penelope said.

  “I just wanted a moment alone so we could talk. So many people begin to irritate me after a while,” he replied, bringing her close. He rested a hand on her back, and Penelope’s skin itched underneath it. Something wasn’t right.

  Usually, when Alexis touched her she felt like she was melting on the inside, but in the anteroom of the museum, his body felt as cold as his hands. Alexis never had cold hands. Reaching inside of her, Penelope pulled on their knot, sharp and insistent. Alexis didn’t bat an eye.

  “This party is a bore. Let’s sneak out and go home,” he suggested.

  “You know we can’t do that,” she said, stepping back from him. The knot inside of her tugged back and not by the man in front of her.

  “Then we’ll have to make our pleasures here.”

  He smiled and kissed her. His lips were moist, and instead of cinnamon, they tasted of smoke and iron. Penelope stepped back from him, pulling the knife from her concealed pocket.

  “Who are you?” she demanded, holding the blade in front of her.

  “Amore, are you feeling well? What’s the matter?” He held his hands up, but something else glinted in his eyes.

  “You are not Alexis. Who are you?”

  “Who are you is the real question,” fake Alexis replied, prowling around her. “You are a simple human. There’s nothing unique about you, and yet you have magicians running to your aid and your bed. You’re out of your depth, Penelope Bryne. Join me or be sacrificed.”

  He reached out to her, and she swiped at him, the knife slicing his fingers.

  “Stay away!” she commanded. “Touch me again, and you’ll regret it.”

  Fake Alexis watched the blood drip from his fingers in fascination before looking back at her. “I’m going to enjoy devouring your flesh,” he said, his voice distorting into a deep hiss.

  “Who are you? Are you the Acolyte?” Penelope asked, carefully staying out of his reach. Why did I wear this crazy dress! She needed to keep him talking. Marco and Alexis would find her, and they would have him.

  “I am whatever my master needs me to be,” he replied.

  “And your master? You mean Thevetat?”

  A low chuckle rolled up through him. “My God is with me wherever I go. I’m his vessel. I am his hands and his blood and his breath.” His eyes flashed a deep red, and Penelope’s grip on the knife tightened. She’d seen Abaddon’s eyes glow that way in Alexis’s memory. He prowled around the displays, circling her like a giant cat.

  “What do you want?” Penelope asked.

  “I want to be free.”

  He lunged for her, and she fell backward into a display case. He w
as on her in a flash, disarming her with a move too fast for her to follow. His bloody fingers gripped her wrists above her head. “Got you, little doctor.”

  Penelope kicked out at him. Her legs caught in the folds of her dress, so it wasn’t as hard as she intended. Fake Alexis laughed and pressed against her.

  “Get off me!” she screamed, fighting to loosen her grip. He had been strong enough to create the sacrifices, and the bones in her forearms screamed as he squeezed them tighter.

  “You got away from me once. I won’t let it happen again, my delicious sacrifice.” He leaned in and licked her cheek. Penelope saw red and head-butted him as hard as she could. He stumbled backward, clutching his bleeding nose. “You bitch!”

  Penelope dived for the knife as the door into the room splintered open. The real Alexis was there, his mask gone and blue light racing under his skin.

  “Defender,” the fake Alexis hissed. “You’ve become slow in your old age.”

  Alexis rushed toward him, but there was a deafening crack, and only the choking smell of sulfur and smoke remained. Alexis still looked ready for a fight as the smoke alarms in the building sounded. Shouts rose from the rooms behind them as people panicked and rushed for the doors.

  Alexis helped Penelope up off the polished floor. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  “No, I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s his blood, not mine.”

  “Hold tight to my hand,” he instructed. “Don’t let go. Don’t get separated from me.”

  They followed the crowd out of the building and found a space to stand, Penelope with her back to the wall and Alexis standing protectively in front of her. He was on his phone in moments, coordinating with Phaidros, Aelia, and Zo in Atlantean before ringing Marco.

  “What happened?” The disheveled inspector found them minutes later.

  “Penelope was attacked,” Alexis said before she could reply. “I got there in time before he could hurt her.”

  Marco turned to her. “What did he look like?”

  “He was wearing a black mask, I’m sorry,” she lied. “He set off a smoke bomb and got away from us.”