“I don’t know,” Alexis replied, his voice low. “She doesn’t understand what a war with Thevetat means. We can give her some magical training if we have to.”
“We can’t teach someone and hunt! She’s not a book, Alexis. You can’t leave her locked up in the Archives for years while you search. She’s human, she only has so long to—”
“Don’t you think I know all of this? This isn’t the time to argue about it. Once Duilio is dead or arrested, Penelope will be safe from him, and then I’ll decide. Until that happens, I can’t make a choice.”
“Don’t forget that it’s her choice too. She’s not the type of woman who will fall in line because you command it, Defender.”
There was a shout from behind a wall of rock and Alexis held up a hand to silence him.
“They are almost through. There’s no magic here.”
“Then get us out.”
Phaidros took his arm. They vanished in a cloud of black sand and reappeared in a doorway, a street back from the site next to the water of the Grand Canal.
“Let’s hope Penelope has found Marco in all this mess. I would hate for her to have to suffer the loss of a friend,” Alexis said. They stopped dead as a dark figure in SWAT gear appeared in front of the canal, a woman slung over his shoulder. Long hair tumbled around the face of a ghost. Kreios.
“As always, you are too slow, Defender,” Kreios said. “I promise to enjoy your woman.”
Alexis and Phaidros moved together, but not before Kreios and Penelope disappeared, faster than a blink of an eye. Phaidros turned white as he gripped Alexis. “We need to go. Now. We don’t know how many of them there are.”
Alexis couldn’t breathe, the image of Penelope slumped over the shoulder of his old enemy burnt into his eyes.
“I told you, Phaidros. I told you,” he managed to say between choked breaths. “I knew they weren’t gone.” Phaidros grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.
“Get it together, Alexis. Falling apart won’t help her.” He glowed with fury and magic. “You just had both of our worst suspicions confirmed, so what do we do next?”
“We go back to the palazzo, track her with magic, kill anyone who tries to stop us.” Alexis balled his hands into tight fists. “We don’t tell Aelia it was Kreios until Penelope’s back.”
“Agreed,” Phaidros said as they hurried down the streets.
Alexis found Marco and pulled him aside roughly.
“What the hell, Alexis? Let me go,” he demanded. “What’s happened? Where is Penelope?”
“Duilio took her from right under your nose,” Phaidros half lied so Alexis wouldn’t have to. “He was dressed in black tactical gear. We saw him just as he disappeared with her in a boat.”
“He was here? What kind of man is he?”
“A very clever one. Send out an alert for everyone to look for Penelope,” Alexis demanded.
“And what about you?” Marco’s eyes narrowed. “What are you going to do, Donato?”
“Make calls to people you don’t want to know about,” growled Alexis. “I would advise you not to get in my way.”
“Are you going to kill him?” Marco asked bluntly.
“Only if I have to. If not, I’ll give him to you,” Alexis promised.
Marco nodded grimly. “Find her. Do your best. But if the decision comes down to you killing Duilio, then lie to me afterward.”
“You’re a good man, Marco.”
“No, I’m not, and neither are you. Go, Alexis, before I feel obligated to stop you.”
NEREUS WAS waiting for them in the doorway of the palazzo, a set of long daggers in her belt. “What am I feeling, Alexis?” she demanded.
“Phaidros, find the others,” Alexis said, and Phaidros hurried away. “He’s back, Nereus.”
“Name him,” she hissed, her eyes shining with fury and power.
“Kreios is in Venice. We can’t tell Aelia until we have Penelope.”
“He took her?”
“Right from under our noses. We couldn’t reach him in time.” Cold rage settled in Alexis’s veins. He could blame himself for his failures later. He had no time to indulge them now.
“So that’s who has been mentoring Duilio,” Nereus said wearily, sounding impossibly old. “And what of Abaddon?”
“No sign, but they were together when the mountain exploded. If Kreios managed to get out, it’s possible his master did too. I don’t know how they managed to hide from us for so long.”
“How doesn’t matter. They have Penelope,” Nereus said. “What do they want with her?”
“The third sacrifice? To taunt me? Who knows? She’s gone, and we need to find her.”
“And the destiny knot? Can you feel her?”
Alexis reached deep inside of himself and searched for the connection. “It’s there, but dim. She’s unconscious, so perhaps when she wakes, we’ll be able to use it.”
“If it’s there, she’s still alive—”
Nereus was cut off by the cracking of thunder overhead that shook the walls of the palazzo. They hurried outside to the inner courtyard and looked up at the sky. Static crackled along Alexis’s skin as the air convulsed above them.
“This isn’t a natural storm,” Nereus said, vocalizing his thoughts. “They are moving on us.”
“Alexis!” Zo’s voice was urgent as he joined them. “I just picked up another bombing on the police scanners.”
“Where?”
“The Arsenale. The main headquarters of the MOSE project,” Zo replied.
“They’re going to try and flood us,” Nereus said. Phaidros, Lyca, Aelia, and Galenos joined them, armed and ready for a fight.
“Duilio and his followers have declared war on Venice,” Lyca hissed. “Orders, Defender.”
They stood straighter, watching him as they instantly fell back into the chain of command from ten thousand years ago. There had only been a handful of times it had happened since.
“Duilio wants to destroy Venice by sinking it into the sea. He destroyed the command center, so we go to the gates themselves,” Alexis said. “Phaidros and Aelia, head to the inlet mouth of Malamocco. Zo and Lyca, take Chioggia, and I will check the Lido.”
“You can’t go alone, Alexis,” Aelia replied.
“Galenos and Nereus must protect the Archives. We don’t know if they know about the palazzo, but we must assume that they do. Hitting Venice was a strategic move. We can’t leave it unprotected.”
“Take the cop,” Zo suggested. “He’s mortal but seems cleverer than the others.”
“I’ll consider it. We don’t know who Duilio’s allies are, so be on your guard. Expect Thevetat has taught them some forms of magic and will put up a fight. Penelope is a priority. Once we have her, we need to regroup to hunt the others. If the MOSE gates are damaged, try to fix them, but don’t take any unnecessary risks.”
Thunder cracked again and again overhead, and rain started to fall in heavy drops that tasted of iron. The magicians looked at the skies uneasily, collectively remembering the last time they smelled blood in the rain. It had been during the largest magical high tide they had ever experienced, and only days before Atlantis disappeared into the sea.
“Go now,” commanded Alexis. “Before there’s nothing left to save.”
PENELOPE WOKE TO the sound of dripping water and the smell of mold. Her eyes blurred as she tried to open them. She sat up slowly, her head pounding. Her hands and ankles were fastened with thick, black zip ties.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
She was in a catacomb, with dusty bones shelved in stone around her. The floor of the chamber was still damp from the tides and covered in a sticky layer of mud. She struggled away from the wall she was leaning against, afraid of the rats and spiders who no doubt called the bones home.
“So you are awake at last.” The lithe figure of Tony Duilio stood in the entrance to the tunnel. His stylish hair had been shaved off, and his geometric neck tattoo was gone. He even he
ld himself differently, straight and calm as a soldier.
“What do you want from me, Tony?” Penelope asked, her voice trembling.
“My name is Antonio,” he replied coldly. “I don’t want anything from you, Doctor Bryne, although I do owe you for this.” He held up his hands to show the red line her knife had made.
“I should’ve put it in your throat,” she snarled. “All of those officers were innocent. The people you sacrificed—”
“I didn’t sacrifice them, Thevetat did. My body was just another tool for his will. Just as yours shall be.”
Penelope tried to calm her racing heart. “I don’t get it, Antonio. You had a billion-dollar business and an amazing career. What can you possibly get out of all of this that you haven’t just thrown away?”
“Anything I have or don’t have is at my master’s pleasure. He created Tony Duilio. I played the part.”
“I still don’t understand.”
Antonio’s smile was sarcastic as he crouched beside her. “Of course you wouldn’t understand. A privileged girl like you, brought up by academic parents in a nice house, in a safe neighborhood. It made you weak, and you don’t even realize it. You know what I was doing when I first met my master? I was trying to pick his pockets in a Sicilian back street. I was eight, and I had already seen my mother murdered. I was living on the streets for over a year when he saved me. When you have nothing, you learn how useless things like degrees and companies are.”
“So your master cared for you? Is that what you think? He turned you into a murderer!”
“I was already a murderer. He just gave me what I needed to focus on and to believe in.”
“A demon? You set the bar way too low.” Penelope shook her head. “You know the police will find us. You let me go and come with me, and no one else needs to get hurt.”
“It’s not going to happen, Doctor Bryne. I told you, Thevetat has a plan for you and those magicians you can’t seem to stay away from.”
“I’m never going to help you.”
“You won’t have to,” a second voice said, and Kreios entered the chamber behind Antonio. She struggled against her bonds again. “You should’ve seen Alexis’s face when he realized I had you. The Defender I knew would never have let himself become so vulnerable over a woman.” His smile was sharp and vicious. “I’ve waited a long time to get my revenge on that bastard, and the fact that I have you is an unforeseen enjoyment. He’ll make stupid mistakes in his efforts to get you back.”
“No, he won’t. I don’t mean anything to Alexis. He was helping me find who was responsible for the murders. He won’t lift a finger to get me back even if he knows you have me. He isn’t that stupid.”
Kreios lifted her to her feet. “You aren’t fooling anyone. I know my enemy as well as I know myself. I’ve taken what he treasures, and he’ll let all of Venice sink into the sea just to get you back.”
“You’re wrong. Alexis is coming for you, Kreios, and he’ll bring all of his friends. You had better slither back into whatever hole you’ve been hiding in before—”
Penelope’s head rocked back as he hit her hard across the face. Blood filled her mouth, and she spat it out at him. He raised his hand again when an old man in dark red robes stopped him.
Penelope’s eyes went round. His long beard and hair had been cut, but she would recognize those carmine eyes in any nightmare. Abaddon. Thevetat had saved his High Priest from the collapsing caverns.
“That’s enough, Kreios. Beating a woman is beneath you,” he said. “Look at her face. She knows who we are, so the magicians have told her something at least. The sacrifice is now complete. Bring her with you, and we will see how brave she is.”
The ties around Penelope’s feet were cut so she could walk between Antonio and Kreios. She wished she knew of some way to get a message to Alexis. If he had seen Kreios, he would know who the real enemy was and what he was up against. She tried to touch the knot inside of her, but she couldn’t feel or find it.
Bright, flaming oil lamps filled the space in front of her as Penelope was lead forward into a chamber. She pushed backward in horror, but only hit Kreios’s chest. He grabbed the back of her head and made her see. She wanted to vomit, but her stomach was clenched too tightly in fear.
A bull stood on a stone altar, its throat cut, and its blood was dripping into a beaten copper bowl between its front hooves. The hooves themselves had been wrapped around and around with bright golden wire to ensure it remained upright. Its horns and eyes were painted gold, and a garland of flowers hung around its broad neck.
Surrounding the altar, six youths had been arranged in a frozen dance. They had been killed by a swift blow to the back of the head, the gory mess partially disguised by headpieces of bull’s horns and flowers. Their feet had been removed and replaced with dancing feet of clay. Golden wires held their hands joined and raised, so they looked like joyful worshippers, dancing for their bull god. The walls and stone pillars were covered with dark script, the alchemical glyphs for boil, salt, and sulfur painted amongst them. The third sacrifice. The spell is completed.
Penelope choked, even as she was unable to look away. “You sick bastards…”
“Don’t be so naïve, Doctor Bryne,” Abaddon chastised lightly. “This is how worship was born; in the darkness, with promises and blood. It’s the only language the gods truly understand. This was the final sacrifice, and even now, far above us, my god is answering this prayer.”
He was breathy with awe and love. Beside her, Antonio watched Abaddon with adoring eyes as the old man dipped his hand into the copper basin. “Bring her to me.”
Penelope kicked and struggled as Antonio and Kreios wrestled her forward, knocking her to her knees in front of the bull before ripping the sleeves of her shirt.
“She’s had magic touch her,” Abaddon commented as his fingers stroked the soft skin of her forearms. Thankfully, the Living Language stayed hidden. Penelope knew what they did to people with magic.
Abaddon whispered something, and her arms shot outright and rigid from her body. She tried to move them, but they held firm as he dipped his hands into the basin.
Penelope screamed as Abaddon drew glyphs on her skin, the blood searing her like hot wire where it touched. The men stood by impassively as she squirmed, the blood scorching her flesh black.
Delirious with pain, Penelope watched Abaddon produce a triptych of finely beaten lead sheets, covered with markings. She recognized them from her studies of ancient Greece. It was black magic used to curse people, often petitions to the gods to maim or kill their enemies. It was one of the reasons why competitors in the Olympics used to swear an oath before Zeus that they hadn’t used black magic to give them an edge.
When Penelope had first heard of the lead petitions, she had laughed at the superstition. She had seen too much in the past month to laugh now.
Antonio took a small shovel and loosened the muddy paving stone next to the altar before digging a hole in the silty clay underneath it.
Abaddon and Kreios started to chant in long stanzas, and the writing on the triptych glowed the yellow-orange of a forge fire. Nausea and disgust crept over Penelope’s skin like a layer of invisible filth. Once they had finished chanting, they placed the triptych into the hole. The smell of sulfur and rotting flesh filled her nose, and she knew their spell had been activated. Kreios took a bronze knife and goblet from the altar and knelt beside Penelope.
“You’ve been inside the sanctuary of magicians,” he said, voice dangerously soft. “Let’s see what protection you have in your blood.” He cut a long gash in her wrist and made the blood drip into the goblet. Satisfied there was enough, he cut his own arm, letting his blood mix before passing the knife and goblet to Antonio. Penelope’s body locked, but if she could have moved she would have gouged Kreios’s black eyes from his head.
Once Abaddon’s blood was added to the mix, he used his finger to mix them and sketched a symbol onto his chest. Penelope’s eyes widen
ed as the glyph glowed before being absorbed into his skin, leaving a silvery mark, unlike the bloody wounds laced around her forearms. He tipped the rest of the blood on top of the triptych, and Antonio filled in the hole and replaced the paving stones.
In the stories Penelope had read, the lead plates were buried in graveyards so the dead could carry the curses to Hades. Had Antonio buried plates at the other sacrifice sites that were completely missed by the police? If she could get a message to Alexis, he could go to the sites and destroy them, and it might stop the spell from working. Penelope tried to find the knot, but it was as if a barrier was in her way, preventing her from reaching him.
“She’s trying to summon him,” Kreios warned.
“She won’t succeed,” Antonio said, his voice changed, now sounding deep and ancient. His black eyes turned to silver and red as something inside of him came forward.
Abaddon bowed to him. “My lord, you honor us.”
Antonio ignored him, instead kneeling down to sniff at Penelope like a dog snuffling meat. “She smells of magic and sex. The magician has tasted of her. He’ll fight to get her back.”
“Then we use her to trap them as I retrieve what’s rightfully ours,” said Abaddon. “Lift her up, Kreios. We must leave here before it floods.”
Her body was still chained by invisible bonds as Kreios tossed her over a shoulder and carried her out of the crypts.
It wasn’t until they were above ground that Penelope realized they had been in the depths of San Zaccaria, located in one of the busiest tourist districts of Venice. People paid them no attention as they hurried to get out of the rain. It was as if Penelope and the priests of Thevetat had been rendered entirely invisible.
Antonio followed them, so she had nowhere else to look but into the hungry eyes of the Demon.
ALEXIS HADN’T gone into his war chest for nearly one hundred years. He tried to push away all thoughts of Penelope as he said the binding spells over the locks. She would be afraid, but she also would show courage in her recklessly brave way. She had to know that he would come for her, that he always would.
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