The King's Seal

by Amy Kuivalainen

  Alexis scoffed. “I’m sure you did your best to trash all the historians of your time because they had you all wrong.”

  “That was to cover up the secret of my resurrection, and you know it.” Constantine unclipped his seat belt and swiveled around to give him an infuriating smile. “You can hardly chide me for ruining historians’ careers when you’re sitting beside a victim of your own sabotages. Not to mention the unfortunate ends of the past nine thousand years’ worth of historians who weren’t pretty enough to get past your defenses.”

  “Mio Dio, you all carry on.” Zo parked in a courtyard next to a classically carved stone well.

  Penelope took in the gardens and the wrought iron touches to the building’s smaller balconies. “This place looks lovely, Con.”

  “As pleasant as the gardens are, Penelope, I have a feeling you’ll love what’s inside even more.” Constantine wrapped her arm around his and led her up the stairs to the door. “Grab my bag too, please,” he called before disappearing inside.

  “Remind me again why we like him?” Alexis reached for Constantine’s bag in the boot of the car.

  Zo took it from him and hefted it over one shoulder. “Because we have a weakness for beautiful, bossy people,” he said. “You’d better hurry before he shows Penelope his collection and she falls in love with him.”

  Alexis only rolled his eyes. “She wouldn’t fall for his charm as easily as you.”

  PENELOPE KNEW THAT she shouldn’t be surprised by the contents of Constantine’s house—or the houses of any of the magicians—by now. They were always full of things that should be in museums or galleries, and yet her jaw dropped once inside Constantine’s house. For one, most of the walls were painted in vivid frescoes, each one a scene of something significant that had happened in his life. Penelope recognized some, like the Battle of the Milvian Bridge and his coronation as emperor. Others were more recent, like a scene from Jerusalem and snowcapped mountains. There were more images that resembled his stained glass windows on Badija: the apostles, Biblical stories, and Christ. There were also paintings and old photographs of artists, writers, and theologists, weapons, statues, books, and tiny stone tablets.

  “You immortals are such hoarders.” She squeezed Constantine’s arm.

  “You can’t help it after a while. Why do you think we end up with so many houses? We don’t all have a magical palazzo that will make us more space at the snap of our fingers. You know you can read and touch anything in the house, Penelope.”

  “Thank you, Con. I’ll be careful not to break anything. These frescoes are amazing. Can I ask who did them?” She stepped closer so she could study one of Constantinople.

  He offered a self-conscious smile. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  Penelope jerked back in surprise. “No! You? Really?”

  “It’s not so surprising,” Zo said. “You have to keep yourself busy somehow when you have all the time in the world.”

  “Constantine likes to be surrounded by the thing he loves most, which is himself.” Alexis looked around at the walls with a frown. “Honestly, your ego is astounding.”

  “Don’t listen to them, Penelope. It wasn’t my ego that fueled these paintings.” Constantine’s voice was strangely soft. He waited until Alexis and Zo had moved to other parts of the house before continuing. “There were times I thought I was going mad, like I’d disconnected from who I was, my memories becoming more like a dream. Painting the memories helped ground me and remind me who I really was. It’s easy to lose touch with yourself and reality when you’re immortal. Alexis won’t admit it, but he’s been lost more than once in the same manner. It’s why everyone is so happy that you’re with him—you’ll help keep him grounded.”

  “I hope so. Sometimes, I think I brought Alexis’s world down around him.”

  “It would be best to let go of that guilt right now, Pen. This war would’ve come with or without you. I, for one, am glad you’re on our side.” He kissed her hand. “Come, let’s see where the other two have gone to. We have until six o’clock before the Vatican Secret Archive closes for the night.”

  “I still don’t know how you expect us to get in there without being spotted, considering all of the security cameras and guards they have.”

  Constantine laughed. “Don’t you worry, Doctor Bryne. They still won’t see us coming.”

  AFTER A hasty meal of pasta, Penelope dressed in black jeans, boots, and a cotton T-shirt. It was a warm, humid night, and she was sweating before she finished pulling her boots on.

  “Remind me why I have to wear jeans and boots in this heat?” she asked.

  “You’ll thank me for it when the time comes.” Constantine passed a garment bag to Alexis. “This should fit.”

  Penelope sipped on cold water in the kitchen until the three men appeared—dressed identically as priests with black shirts and pants and pristine white collars.

  She swallowed her water as her cheeks reddened. “You know, I had a dream like this once.”

  Alexis hid a smile while he pulled his tangle of black curls into a bun.

  Constantine reached out to adjust Zo’s collar. “You’ll have to tell me all about it when we return.”

  “I’d love to, but I’m going to be too busy playing ‘confession’ with Alexis. I’ve just got so many sins. I’m a sinner. Sin all over,” she said, straight-faced. Alexis gave her a promising smile in return.

  Constantine sighed. “Some people get all the luck. Get your game face on, or I’ll leave you behind.” He passed Penelope a black satchel bag. Inside, he’d packed a flashlight, water, snacks, and mercury-filled glow sticks.

  “Why am I suddenly concerned?”

  “No need to worry, cara. I won’t let you get lost,” Alexis assured her.

  Appropriately geared up, Penelope followed Zo and Constantine down into the cellars.

  Constantine took out a bundle of iron keys. “I hope you don’t mind small spaces,” he said, then opened an ancient-looking door. He turned on a battery-powered camping lamp and disappeared inside.

  Zo followed. “Make sure you knock down all the webs as you go. God, I hate spiders.”

  Penelope stepped into the cool, earthen tunnel, and realization dawned on her. “We’re in the catacombs?”

  Alexis stuck close behind her. “We will be. Constantine created this tunnel to join up to Rome’s underground necropolis.”

  Penelope was familiar with the kilometers of catacombs under the city, dating back to the Etruscans. As Christians settled in Rome during the second century, the need to bury instead of burn the dead had arisen, and the catacombs expanded even farther.

  “How far is it to the Vatican?” she asked just as the tunnel began to widen.

  “About a two-kilometer walk,” Alexis said.

  “And we can trust that Constantine knows the way for sure?”

  “Absolutely. He’s smuggled in many popes and assassins over the years.”

  “Not to mention he funded most of the earliest churches in Rome, including St. Peter’s, and ensured he had a hand in all of the designs, which always included multiple escape routes,” Zo said over his shoulder.

  “Clever.”

  “As a fox.”

  “And twice as handsome,” Constantine called back to them. “Stop talking about me when you think I can’t hear. You know these walls echo.”

  “We know,” Zo said. “We just don’t care.”

  The tunnels opened out, and chills swept down Penelope’s arms. On all sides were niches carved into stone and earth, and each one held human bones. Shining her torch around, she saw that some were bigger than others, and the stone lining them was decorated with painted pictographs, figures in robes, pagan and Christian iconography combining together. Penelope tried not to get distracted, but she was overcome with the awe that always came with brushing against something so ancient.

  “Does anyone know about these?” she asked.

  Alexis shook his head. “No one has been in the
se particular catacombs for centuries, except Constantine.”

  “As much as I respect your profession, Penelope, sometimes it’s better to let the dead be,” Constantine said.

  The archaeologist and historian sides of Penelope rose up. “Can you blame us young ones for wanting to know about our origins or hoping for a glimpse of the past to see where we came from and how people lived and loved?”

  “If you don’t mention my catacombs to any of your grave-robbing friends, I promise I’ll tell you anything you want to know about life as a Roman and Byzantine.”

  “Be careful, Con. She’ll hold you to that promise. Trust me. I speak from experience.” Alexis lightly touched her lower back, diffusing her anger at being referred to as a grave robber.

  Penelope took a calming breath and changed the subject. “Stop me if this is a dumb question, but why don’t we use magic to portal ourselves into the Vatican Secret Archive? Why go through these catacombs at all?”

  An amused chuckle burst out of Constantine. “Because Alexis can’t get through.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” Alexis said. “The Vatican has certain…protections. There must’ve been a priest or two over the years holy enough to have the ability to do proper warding. Out of respect, I haven’t tried my hand at breaking through them. There’s never been a need to tamper with them because of Constantine’s back way in.”

  “Seems fair. I get why Con insisted on the priest’s attire in case we get spotted, but I don’t get why I didn’t get any.”

  “The Vatican is still on the fence about women being priests, and it would raise too many questions to see a woman dressed as one. It’s not because I don’t think women should be priests. Jesu save me, there were women priests in Paul’s day, so I don’t know why it became an issue later on.”

  “The damn patriarchy, that’s why,” Penelope whispered.

  “And before you ask me, Penelope—no, I didn’t purposely convince the Council of Nicaea to leave all the female apostles out of the New Testament, and no, I wasn’t responsible for making the Roman Empire Christian. All I did was sign an edict so that everyone would stop killing them.”

  “Poor Con has had to deal with some damning rumors over the centuries. As you can tell, he’s still a little sensitive about them,” Zo whispered, clearly trying not to laugh.

  “I feel your pain, Con. If you think you’ve had it bad, try being an Atlantis expert and watching the crazies swarm with excitement.” Penelope’s amusement died as she remembered the Florence bombers citing her discovery as motivation to kill people. Even knowing Thevetat was behind it didn’t make her feel any better. Gisela was still managing to keep the media and police from involving her in their investigations, but Penelope knew it was only a matter of time before she would have to go in for an interview.

  Seeming to sense the change in her energy, Alexis found her hand in the darkness and gave it a gentle squeeze. No matter what happened, Alexis would be there.

  Ten minutes later, Constantine said, “Not far now. This used to be the outskirts of the necropolis used by the Circus of Nero. Most people think I had these sections filled in when the basilica was commissioned, and I was content to let them keep believing it.”

  They came to a wood-and-iron door, and Constantine pulled out his bundle of ancient iron keys. “Be ready to take out the security cameras if we need to,” he said to Alexis.

  “Wait, I have something better.” The scent of Alexis’s magic filled the tunnel, and a second later, his magic settled over her skin.

  Penelope shivered. “What was that?” He hummed with power, and her heart did stupid things when she looked up at him.

  “It’s a glamour to hide us from electronics, both recording devices and sensors. To any technology, we’re invisible.”

  “Nice. When did you learn this?” Zo asked.

  “It’s something Galenos and I worked on a few years ago. I’ll teach you later. Shall we go?”

  The hinges groaned as Constantine unlocked the door and pulled it toward them, revealing wooden paneling. With a gentle shove, the wall slid forward.

  “Doors hidden by bookshelves? I love this.” Penelope tried to supress her enthusiasm.

  Constantine went first and gestured to them that the coast was clear just as a woman appeared. Penelope froze, thinking they were busted before they’d even begun. The woman—tall, dark-haired, and stunning in a neat suit—all but launched herself at Constantine, kissing him with a violence that would’ve shocked Penelope had she not been trying not to laugh.

  “Jesus Christ, we’re on a time frame.” Zo cursed under his breath, and Penelope elbowed him.

  “Of all the places to blaspheme.” Alexis merely shrugged, as if all heists with Constantine went like this.

  When the couple finally came up for air, they exchanged hushed words in Italian too quickly for Penelope to follow. Constantine gestured at them. “This is Chiara. She’s going to show us the way.”

  Chiara straightened her blouse, though she didn’t look even a little bit embarrassed.

  Penelope stepped out of the secret tunnel. “That’s a lovely shade of lipstick on you.”

  “Jealousy is a curse,” Constantine replied with a wink.

  Penelope struggled to remain focused as they followed Chiara through metal shelving crammed with manuscripts. The Vatican Secret Archive had over eighty kilometers of shelving and contained over six hundred years’ worth of letters, documents, papal bulls, and family histories. The conspiracy theorists loved it almost as much as they loved Atlantis, speculating what secrets were housed in the archive, from the true history of Jesus Christ to evidence of aliens. She would’ve liked to dig around for any mention of Atlantis, though she had a feeling that if they ever had anything, Alexis would’ve relieved them of it centuries ago.

  Chiara stopped in front of a security door. Behind the wall of metal caging were hundreds of archive boxes. Chiara whispered to Constantine, passing him a piece of paper. He kissed her again, then she hurried away through the stacks.

  Constantine held up the sticky note, which had a series of numbers written on it. “Location of what we’re after.”

  “She didn’t want to stick around?” asked Penelope.

  “She’s a busy lady, and I don’t want to get her into any unnecessary trouble. Staff need to be out of the archives in twenty minutes. I don’t want to give the guards any reason to come looking for anyone.” He gestured to Zo. “I believe this is your area of expertise.”

  Zo made a noise in the back of his throat. “You wouldn’t know what my expertise is.” Regardless, he crouched down near the swipe card panel. Fascinated, Penelope watched as Zo sketched an invisible sigil on the keypad and whispered under his breath. His magic flared, and the door unlocked and swung open.

  He shook out his hand. “You have to love a high tide.”

  “Any more magic and you would’ve blown the door off its hinges,” Alexis said sternly.

  “Everyone’s a critic.” Zo sighed. “Lead the way, Con. You know this storage system better than anyone.”

  In the end, they split up, Penelope and Alexis going one way and Constantine and Zo another, as they searched through the shelves.

  “I’m extremely impressed with your self-control right now, Doctor Bryne,” Alexis whispered.

  “After the Archives and your Atlantis room in Venice, it would take a lot to impress me. That’s not even mentioning Elazar’s or Constantine’s books.” She’d been exposed to more rare collections in the past few months than she could’ve imagined. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have enough reasons to defeat Thevetat, but having the time to go through all of the Archives was high on her motivations list.

  “After this mess is over, the Atlantis room is yours. Any questions you have, any memory you want to look at it, you need only to ask.”

  “You sure know how to charm a girl, Alexis Donato.” Penelope pulled him closer.

  He rested his hands on the shelves behind her, c
aging her in. “I did the research.” He lowered his head so that she could reach up and kiss him. Penelope was dimly aware that it was probably a mortal sin to make out in the Vatican, and she counted her blessings that she wasn’t Catholic.

  “That’s disgusting,” Zo said. “Are there pheromones in the air down here that aren’t working on me? Hurry up. We’ve found it.”

  “We’ll discuss the list of Atlantis secrets I want to know later,” Penelope said, and Alexis gave her a secret smile.

  “If you’re finished, come this way.” Zo snagged Penelope’s hand and pulled her out from under Alexis’s arms.

  “You’re so pushy.”

  “Because I don’t want to get caught—something you all should be concerned with instead of grinding up against each other.”

  “She can’t help it. Books turn her on,” said Constantine from a row over.

  Penelope shrugged. “Guilty as charged.”

  They waited as Zo unlocked another cage. It contained at least another fifty archive boxes.

  “Which one is it?” she asked.

  Constantine opened the first box. “Chiara wasn’t sure. She doesn’t have that level of access and only knew the cage number. We’re going to have to search through them.”

  Twenty minutes later, Penelope reached for another box, and her hands tingled with a flush of magic. The Living Language flashed words along her arms, too rapid for her to follow. She tipped open the lid and drew in a breath. Inside were bundles of letters and a thick leather book crammed with pieces of paper and held together with string. She looked at the contents list that had been pasted under the box lid. Magic hummed inside of her, and the typed Italian shivered and altered to read, Correspondence of the Riario and Sforza families, Last Wills and Classified documents seized Pope Alexander VI, 1477-1509, “Experimenti” Ed. 1. 1509.

  Unable to contain her excitement, Penelope said, “I think I found something.” She passed the cardboard box lid to Alexis.