Kreios would use her to draw out and distract the magicians from whatever his true plan was. Tony Duilio had wanted her all along. Maybe they wouldn’t use her as bait, but as a sacrifice.
Alexis pushed the thought out of his head. It wasn’t only Penelope’s life at stake. Venice was packed to capacity at this time of year, and there would be no time to evacuate everyone. All those lives sacrificed to Thevetat would only make the Demon’s worshippers stronger. He couldn’t let that happen, not even to save Penelope.
From his chest, he took out a leather baldric, crossing it over himself. It held two swords on his back and four knives securely. It held two swords on his back and four knives on his chest. The blades had been made by one of the royal smiths in the city of Atlas. The steel hummed against his skin. Normal blades didn’t guarantee death to a priest or vessel of Thevetat, but these were designed with only that purpose in mind, imbued with a form of magic that would slice through any supernatural protection.
Nereus was waiting for him at the front door. The other magicians had already gone to their designated inlets.
“You have murder in your eyes, my son,” she said. “I’m glad to see it. Listen to me very carefully: you must get her back.”
“Of course I’ll get her back,” Alexis replied. “She doesn’t deserve to die because of our failures.”
Nereus took his hands and squeezed them. “It’s not only that, Alexis. She’s important. The Living Language is moving inside of her. It chose her. It doesn’t do that with just anyone.” The hair on Alexis’s neck rose. Nereus had performed an augury concerning Penelope’s fate, and she had kept it quiet.
He didn’t like it when she kept secrets from him, but he still leaned down and kissed her papery cheek. “I promise I’ll find her and kill Kreios.”
Nereus touched her fingers to his forehead, tracing out a protection rune like she used to before every mission. “I’m very proud of you. Never forget that.”
Alexis saw her safely into Galenos’s care before he took out his phone, calling the Questura first and then the phones of police officers on the scene in San Marco until they located Inspector Marco Dandolo.
“Alexis Donato, have you killed anyone this afternoon?”
“Not yet, but the night is young, Inspector. This is a call to warn you. Two followers of Thevetat, including Tony Duilio, intend to override the MOSE gates and flood Venice. The bomb at the Arsenale was either him or one of his associates from the Sangue di Serpente.”
“The Serpents are still in Venezia! How do you know this? No, don’t tell me. What can I do?” he asked urgently. “We need to evacuate—”
“There won’t be enough time to evacuate the city, so a few friends and I are going to the gates themselves. I believe they’ll have Penelope at one of them or close by, should they wish to use her as a bargaining chip.”
Marco’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Take me with you. Not as polizia but as someone concerned for Penelope. Let me help.”
“I’m going to the Lido inlet. If you can drive a boat in this weather, you can join me there. I have people checking Malamocco and Chioggia.”
“How are you getting there?”
“I have my ways. It’s your choice whether or not you follow me.” Alexis hung up and stepped out into the rain.
Very carefully, he let go of all the checks and locks that he had bound and hidden his magic behind. Like a starving man suddenly placed at a banqueting table, Alexis sighed with relief as magic filled and energized him. He noted the power of the magical high tide was already making him stronger, but it was a mixed blessing. Kreios would be able to feel it and use it against them.
Alexis unsheathed his swords, gripping the hilts tightly. Lighting struck the buildings around the city, and he disappeared on a clap of the thunder.
PENELOPE SHIVERED WITH fever and pain as Kreios dropped her unceremoniously to the ground. The piers at the Lido inlet stretched out like two long, accusatory fingers in the water, the powerful yellow MOSE gates hidden under the choppy, black water.
Abaddon stretched his arms out to the ocean, and the concrete shuddered beneath her, responding to the magic flowing around him.
“Can you feel the power humming in the air?” Antonio sighed as he closed his gray and red eyes. “The humans have forgotten the power of the old gods. They have forgotten why they feared the sea. Tonight, they will remember; tonight, we will show them all. This icon of debauchery and self-importance, this sanctuary for the magicians, will suffer.”
“And what do you gain from all of this?” Penelope asked between shivering lips. “You’re meant to be a god. Shouldn’t you already be all-powerful?”
“I’m taking back my world once and for all,” Thevetat whispered from Antonio’s mouth. “Before the humans, it belonged to me and my kind. It was given to them, to be protected by the likes of Atlantis. It was their corruption that led to the destruction of their land. Humans have slowly been killing it ever since. It’s time for me and mine to have control over it before there is nothing left to save.”
“If that’s what you wanted all along, why did you wait so long? Ten thousand years is a long time to be a sulking coward because you lost,” spat Penelope.
“Little child, you have much to learn about magic.” Antonio squeezed her face tightly. “It has taken ten thousand years for the tide of magic to rise again. For the first time, it’s back where it needs to be. I will not wait for this moment again. This world will be mine to walk upon.” He let her go with a rough shove.
Kreios and Abaddon chanted over another lead tablet before throwing it into the sea. The waves lurched around it, sucking it down to the seabed.
“The ritual’s completed,” Abaddon declared. “Stay and watch our victory, my sons. I have business with the old witch tonight, and thanks to Penelope’s blood, I’m going to walk through the front door.” There was a pull of magic through the air, and Abaddon disappeared, red coals falling from the space where he had been.
Antonio knelt down beside Penelope, his cold face twisted into a smile. “You’ll die screaming, knowing that the Defender and his traitorous brothers are buried under the ocean where they belong. I want to feel your suffering as it feeds my power and ecstasy.”
Penelope pulled back, but he gripped her shoulders and put his iron and blood lips to her mouth. She tried to bite him as something slithered from his mouth and into her. She gagged and spat while Kreios watched with a fascination that made her skin crawl.
There was a crackle of white light, and something silver flew over Penelope’s head and sliced open Antonio’s throat. He collapsed, wide-eyed with shock, gasping bloody breaths as he gripped the gushing wound.
Feel the power in his death, Penelope. You will never feel helpless again if you just say yes and let me in. Penelope clutched her head, trying to dislodge the voice.
There was another flash of white and silver, and Alexis soared into view, daggers flying at Kreios. He dodged one, but the second caught his thigh, opening a large gash. Unlike Penelope’s knife, it made him stumble in pain.
“You’re too late!” Kreios exclaimed. “Can you not feel it? The tide’s rising and our time has come again.”
Alexis drew his sword and charged, the pale blue light of his magic licking the blade. Smoke poured around Kreios’s hand, and a sword materialized in time to block Alexis’s attack. They fought so quickly in between the flashes of lightning that Penelope couldn’t follow their movements. Power made the air crackle with static and smell of ozone. Penelope crawled over to Antonio’s dead body and pulled his knife from his belt. She cut the black ties at her wrist before Thevetat made her drop the knife.
Let me in, and I will give you the power to stop this. You will be able to save his life.
“Get out of my head,” Penelope demanded. Her hand shot up, and she smacked herself across the face, the glyphs on her arms burning hot.
You bear my marks, which means you are mine to use as I see fit. Let me
in, or I’ll make you kill the Defender yourself.
Through the driving pain in her head, Penelope found the knife that had made Kreios bleed and stumbled through the storm to help Alexis.
Alexis had driven Kreios to the end of the pier, his escape blocked by the ocean.
“This isn’t Atlantis,” Kreios said over the crash of waves. “We shouldn’t be enemies anymore, Defender. The humans had their chance to make this world better, and all they have done is kill it. They need to be ruled before the planet dies completely.” They clashed again, Kreios’s blade slicing Alexis’s forearm, making him retreat two steps.
“You’re still too stubborn to see that it doesn’t matter if you kill me, we’ve already won. Penelope is dead, and so is the rest of Venice.”
“I’m not dead,” Penelope growled, the long knife in her hand.
“You really are perfect for each other.” Kreios lifted his sword. “And that’s why you will fail to stop us.” An invisible hand of power tried to push Penelope backward as Alexis charged Kreios again. The Demon inside of her fought back, operating her like a marionette, positioning her in front of Alexis to stop his attack on Kreios.
“Penelope, move!” Alexis shouted.
“I can’t!” she managed to say, and the burnt glyphs on her forearms glowed. Kreios’s laughter echoed over the crash of the waves.
“You see? I told you that you would fail.” He came and stood behind her. “The Demon has her, and he’ll always protect what’s his.”
Kreios hooked an arm around her waist, using her body as a shield. The knife in Penelope’s hand began to heat, but she held it tighter. The scars on her palm burned, and the power Thevetat had over her arm faltered. Penelope drove the knife backward and into Kreios’s side. He roared with pain and anger as she tried to drag her feet forward.
Kreios tried to grab her but lurched backward as a bullet hit him in the right shoulder, his sword falling from his hand. Another bullet hit his left shoulder, and he collapsed to the ground, clutching his bleeding side. A figure appeared in the rain, running toward them, gun still raised and trained on Kreios.
“Marco!” Penelope exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“Alexis said he might need help.” Marco stepped through the mud and crouched down next to Antonio. “Tony Duilio. Damn him.”
The fury left Alexis’s face, and he sheathed his sword before stepping toward Penelope.
“Don’t!” she cried, holding out a warning hand to Alexis. “Don’t touch—it’s in—”
She screamed and lashed out. Alexis pulled back from her, his blue eyes taking in the charred glyphs on her forearms. Her hands jerked up and gripped his throat.
“Fight it, cara,” he urged her. “It doesn’t have a right to be there. You are no Vessel.”
I haven’t permitted you to be in my body, Thevetat, so get out, she thought, but the Demon only laughed.
Penelope reached inside of herself and touched the tie that bound her to Alexis. She could feel him again, the connection calling out to her. Her hands released his neck. Alexis made no move toward her, but inside of her she felt the slow pull of him tugging back.
Stop that! Let him go, Penelope, I command it. I will give you whatever you want, whatever you wish…
The voice in her head was drowned by a rush of music. Low bass notes of a cello swept through her in an elegant, heart-wrenching melody of love and loss. It was the sound of Alexis reaching out to her. Penelope gripped tighter to their connection, holding onto it like a lifeline. The music became louder and louder.
“I can hear your heart,” she said, dazed. “Can you hear it? It’s singing to me.”
“It’s because it belongs to you,” Alexis replied simply.
Get out, Penelope commanded as the Demon squirmed at the sound of the music and the rush of love she felt through the knot. The darkness left her in a powerful gust, and she fell forward, heaving up blood and ash.
“Is she going to be okay?” Marco asked, his voice trembling.
“She’ll be fine,” Alexis murmured, as he held her to him. He kissed her face, murmuring endearments in relieved Atlantean.
Laughter cut through the night and Kreios sat up, his black eyes changing to gray and red. Marco fired his gun again but Kreios held up a hand, and the bullet fell to the ground. The gun crumbled in Marco’s hand. Alexis drew his sword and stood between Kreios and Penelope.
“Your special steel won’t protect you against the deluge, magician,” Kreios promised. “Never believe that I’m gone for good, old enemy.” Alexis threw the sword, but it sailed through air and coals as Kreios and Thevetat vanished.
“What the hell was that? Where did he go?” Marco demanded, hurrying to the sizzling coals on the ground.
“I don’t know, but they will return when Kreios is healed,” Alexis said.
“Abaddon said he had business with the old witch tonight—do you think he meant Nereus?” Penelope asked in a rush. “He buried lead tablets at San Zaccaria. You have to warn the others.”
“Nereus can look after herself. Abaddon won’t get through the front door,” Alexis assured her as he pulled out his phone and called Phaidros. “I need you and Aelia to get to San Zaccaria, Penelope says that tablets have been buried there.” There was loud cursing on the other end of the line before they hung up. “Phaidros is on it. They found Kreios’s men burying them at the Chioggia and Malamocco inlets. Do you know where the other one is buried here?”
“It’s not buried,” Penelope replied. “He threw it into the ocean.”
Alexis looked out at the churning dark sea, his eyes burning with blue fire.
“The surge will come through here. I need to get the gates up.”
“But that’s impossible—”
“No, it’s not.” Alexis’s face softened as he looked at her. “Whatever happens, I am glad I had the chance to know you, Penelope.” He kissed her softly before stepping back.
“Wait, what are you going to do?”
“Stop Venice from falling into the sea. Go with Marco, in case I fail.” Marco tried to take her hand and lead her back, but Penelope shoved him off.
“I’m not going anywhere. Alexis!”
Penelope’s cries were cut off as the wind picked up around them and Alexis stepped down the large, uneven stones to the ocean, pulling energy from the air. Light began to dance under his skin.
“Dio mi salvi! What’s going on Penelope? What is he?” Marco asked.
“He’s a magician,” Penelope whispered. She watched in numb fear as Alexis became something unrecognizable. He was a god, thrumming with power, magic swirling around him in a haze of gold and blue light. Penelope could hear his voice, but the wind pulled his words away, making them indiscernible.
Alexis lifted his hands up toward the ocean, and the ground shuddered underneath them. The water churned and heaved as something yellow rose from the depths.
“The gates,” Marco said in awe.
Visibly shaking from the effort, Alexis’s magic streaked through the water before wrapping around the heavy walls and pulling them up against the waves. As they came up one at a time, the water behind them calmed.
“How many are there?” Penelope asked Marco.
“About twenty,” he replied, not taking his eyes off Alexis. “Do you think he can last that long?”
“I don’t know what he’s capable of.” Penelope was shaking, the trauma of the last few hours catching up to her. The thunder and lightning above them lessened, whatever had been powering the spell suddenly broken.
“Phaidros must have broken the tablets at San Zaccaria,” Penelope said, watching the dissipating storm.
Alexis’s cry snapped her attention back to him and the line of yellow barriers. The magic that had been riding him left with a flash, and he pitched forward into the waves. Penelope shoved Marco off her and scrambled down the rocks.
“Alexis!” she shouted, scanning the surface of the water.
“Penelope—
don’t!” Marco called after her.
Penelope reached the swirling black water and her fear of drowning, of being pulled under with no escape, momentarily overtook her, stopping her short.
“Alexis!” she called again, still searching the waves for any sign of him. She felt the knot between them flicker and begin to fade. Penelope pushed aside her fear and dove into the freezing sea.
Her lungs squeezed painfully as she fought the waves, but Penelope dove, again and again, reaching around her as she searched desperately for Alexis.
The knot inside of her thrummed sharply, pulling her down as if they were physically tied together. Just when she thought she couldn’t hold her breath any longer, she snagged the leather baldric around Alexis’s shoulders and kicked forcefully toward the surface. She broke free with a loud gasp, sweet air flooding into her tight chest.
Her months of lifeguard practice took over, and she pulled Alexis’s head above the water and kicked backward toward the rocks.
Marco scrambled out into the water, grabbing her arm and heaving them both in. He was cursing and exclaiming in Italian as they struggled to lift Alexis’s huge body over the stones and onto a flat surface.
“Alexis?” Penelope pushed the wet hair from his face and listened to his chest. “He’s not breathing.” She placed her lips over his and blew into him before starting CPR.
“Come on, Alexis! You can’t just save the day and die on me,” Penelope snapped through her tears, pushing harder on his chest.
“Penelope, move over, I’ll do it,” Marco said, moving her out of the way. He took over, pressing down on Alexis’s chest. “Alexis, if you don’t wake up, I’m going to make love to Penelope, and she will forget all about you.”
Penelope breathed into Alexis’s mouth again, and Marco resumed pumping.
“It’s not working!” she cried. “God, I don’t know what to do.”
The Immortal City Page 27
