Poseidon's Secret Read online

  A tall and lanky man with a neatly trimmed beard and long black hair tied back behind his head suddenly slid into the seat across from her at the table. Without any sort of greeting, he tore open a bag of candy and poured some into his hand before eating them. He didn't seem to notice her at all, or if he did, he didn't care that the table was already taken.

  Nina was about to say something but was too stunned by the display and couldn't exactly find the proper words at first. The weirdest part was that the man looked incredibly familiar. In fact, after another moment of watching him devour his candy, she realized that she really did know him already. Nina met him not too long ago in Rome—Inspector Donatello Amaro. He was a peculiar, quirky detective that had questioned her during her search for Caesar's sword. He seemed incredibly intelligent but that was often pushed to the background thanks to his eccentricities. He didn't seem to have ever quite grasped social norms.

  Inspector Amaro nibbled on his candy before glancing up and catching sight of Nina across the table. His eyes grew wide with apparent surprise and he crumbled up the candy bag and shoved it into his coat pocket like he had been caught red-handed committing a crime and was failing at hiding the evidence.

  “Is that you, Dr. Nina Gould? What a happy coincidence! It seems that the hands of fate would like to keep pushing us close together, doesn't it?”

  “It seems so, Inspector...” It was strange that Inspector Amaro just happened to be in the same place as her, in a completely different country no less. No, it was more than strange. She was smart enough to know that this was cause for suspicion. “What are you doing here, Inspector Amaro? Shouldn't you be in Italy?”

  “Ah, yes, usually but my work does indeed sometimes take me to different, sometimes even foreign places. Sometimes I find myself in exotic places filled with intrigue and excitement.”

  “Like this cafe? At the same time that I am here?”

  Inspector Amaro gave an awkward expression that unevenly curled his lips, like he was trying and failing to produce an innocent smile. “Like I said, coincidences. Sometimes they can be happy. Sometimes they can be peculiar. Sometimes they are just random meetings between two people who happen to be in the same place at the same time.”

  Nina folded her arms. She knew Amaro's games. He enjoyed controlling conversations. She wasn't going to let him control this one this time. “I thought detectives didn't believe in coincidences.”

  He craned his head and stared at her for a long moment, like he was analyzing every minor detail of her face.

  “We don't, no,” Inspector Amaro finally said. That just proved her point and made her even more suspicious of his arrival. “Never.”

  “So then you really think this was destined? Predetermined?”

  “Perhaps,” Inspector Amaro said contemplatively. “At least predetermined.”

  Nina looked around uncomfortably, suddenly anxious that she was being watched. “Did you follow me here?”

  “What gives you that impression?” Amaro asked calmly.

  “Everything, obviously,” Nina said. “Did you?”

  “I will admit that I did indeed track you down, yes.”

  The two of them hadn't exactly parted on good terms the last time they met. Inspector Amaro tried to convince her to give Caesar's sword to him and his police, after she spent so much time and sweat in her mission to find it. Amaro let her do all of the heavy lifting and then tried to reap the reward for himself. When Nina was almost killed by a group of masked thieves called the Third Triumvirate, Inspector Amaro came to the rescue at the last moment, almost when it was too late. She didn't trust anything that he said or did. Unlike some people in the world that she met, Inspector Donatello Amaro wasn't trustworthy. What was happening now just solidified that belief. He had already seemed like a suspicious person and this sudden visit just amplified her unease around him.

  “Why? Does this have something to do with the Third Triumvirate? Caesar's sword? The Colosseum? Something else? How did you even find me anyway?”

  Inspector Amaro leaned back in his seat and laced his fingers together thoughtfully, as if he was trying to figure out the best way to answer her questions. They had only had a few conversations before but even just from those encounters, she knew the kind of tactical mind that Inspector Amaro had. He was very careful and deliberate with all of the words that left his mouth.

  “It's admittedly somewhat complicated. But relax. I can assure you that there is nothing to worry about as far as your last visit to my country. The Third Triumvirate are taken care of. We've forgiven you for taking the sword of one of our greatest leaders and the coliseum is the wonderful tourist trap that it has been for centuries now. As for how I found you...well, we've been keeping a close eye on you. You are an impressive individual, Dr. Gould, with a lot of potential. People like you...well...they sometimes garner attention, even when they don't fully realize it.”

  That was a terrifying prospect. She had no idea she was being followed or even for how long. And why would the police from Rome care about what she was doing? Her association with them ended after she caught the Third Triumvirate for them.

  “Why would your police department be having me followed? Did I commit a crime in Rome that I don't know about? Am I on their most wanted list?”

  Once again, Amaro paused to determine how best to approach his response. “I've never said anything about it being the police.”

  You said the word 'we' so I just assumed...”

  “You assumed wrongly,” Inspector Amaro said calmly. “The 'we' I was referring to...well...as I said, it is very complicated. But then again, everything with the Order of the Black Sun always is, no matter what new, almighty leader is in charge of the group.”

  Nina couldn't believe what she was hearing. Inspector Amaro was talking about the Order of the Black Sun so casually, like he knew all about them. As far as she knew, he only had a vague notion of the secret society after their interactions in Rome. Had he been researching and investigating more about it? Was he trying to learn all he could about Nina and her friends after their Roman misadventure? She wouldn't put that past him. He seemed like the obsessive type who wouldn't stop fixating on something until he knew everything that he possibly could about it. That was probably what made him such an impressive investigator.

  “I am going to speak very honestly with you, Dr. Gould...and the honest truth is...I haven't been entirely honest with you. The contradictory irony of those statements doesn't escape me. I don't like patting myself on the back but I'm sure you have noticed that someone like me, someone with a mind like mine, probably seems somewhat wasted working for just a police department. So, sometimes and quite often, I find that the work that really stimulates my mind comes from outside of my everyday occupation, outside of the badge and the sirens.”

  Inspector Amaro was just like she remembered from Rome. He liked to speak in vague riddles and took forever to reach an actual point. Part of him probably enjoyed hearing himself talk and maybe part of him even enjoyed how others squirmed when he planted ideas into their minds. He seemed to get off on showing his deduction skills in even the most domestic and casual of circumstances.

  “Do you have a point?” Nina finally asked, tired of listening to him babble on in circles. She took a long sip of her coffee. “How about this? You need to be done with whatever it is you have to say by the time I finish this coffee.”

  “Of course, of course,” Amaro said but looked pleased to know that he struck a chord. “My apologies, Dr. Gould. I sometimes find a tangent and follow it all the way to its long end. The point that I am trying to make is simply this...I don't just work for the police. My job is not relegated to the boundaries of the great big boot of Italy. No, my real work takes me all over. I get to meet all kinds of fascinating people, fascinating people like yourself.”

  “I've never really been one to swoon over flattery,” Nina said. “So please wrap this up.”

  “I suspect your friend David Purdue t
old you about a group of people that are conspiring against the Order of the Black Sun.”

  Nina was completely taken aback once again. Since sitting across from her just minutes prior, Inspector Amaro had already surprised her multiple times in their brief conversation. What he was talking about—what he was implying—it couldn't be possible. How would he know anything about the group Purdue was trying to learn about? How did he know anything about any of it? Where was he getting all of this information?

  “I am going to tell you that your friend, Mr. Purdue, is not delusional or paranoid. The group he is searching for exists. They are very, very real.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  Inspector Amaro held out his arms like he was about to bow. “I am a part of that group, of course.”

  Nina got to her feet, nearly knocking her chair onto the floor. She wasn't sure what to do but her brain was deciding between running or beating this creep to a pulp. He wasn't just some odd detective she crossed paths with, he was one of their new enemies, and his arrival in that cafe was now confirmed to definitely not being a coincidence.

  Inspector Amaro looked up at her with the utmost calmness. “I understand your reaction. Please, sit back down. This is a lot to take in, I'm aware, and we are not finished speaking.”

  Nina's jaw clenched and she held back the urge to throttle the detective. “We're not done speaking? And what makes you think that?”

  Inspector Amaro tapped the rim of her coffee mug on the table with his index finger. He looked up at her and shrugged. “You haven't finished your coffee yet. Now please. Sit. I will tell you all about our intrepid group.”

  Nina was struggling to process everything she just learned from Inspector Amaro. It was like someone had pried open her eyes and now she could see the truth that was just out of sight before, all the little details that lingered on the edge of her view.

  “Why all the games? Why pretend to be helping me in Rome as a detective instead of just telling me who you really were and what you wanted?”

  “Obviously that would have just complicated the issue. We needed to be working together to get the sword and bring down the Third Triumvirate. You didn't quite let me help you so I couldn't quite accomplish my initial plan.”

  “So that's why you wanted Caesar's sword after I found it. It wasn't about safeguarding Roman history or any of that shit you tried to feed me. You were going to bring it back to your secret friends, that group that you're so proud to be part of.”

  “We all do things in the name of camaraderie and friendship, don't we?”

  “So it's true...Purdue's been barely sleeping trying to find your group, trying to figure out what you want...but instead, you just come waltzing up to me with the truth. Why would you do that? Why now? Why me? Why not Purdue?”

  “Because you're worthy of the information, Dr. Gould. You are among the very few. Secret societies are supposed to be secret. That is an art form that has tragically been lost on the people of today. So many people tell the whole world everything that they know. People speak far too much when they shouldn't.”

  “So this secret society of yours...what is it called?”

  Inspector Amaro just snickered. “What is it called? What does it matter what it is called? It remains nameless. A name devalues the whole principle of having a confidential collective of minds wouldn't you say? Naming a group like that is just about feeding ego, a pretentious tradition. Why name something that only a few trusted individuals should even know exists? Surely, they can remember what the group is without branding it with some awful name. The pomposity of it all. Take you and your friends in the grand Order of the Black Sun for example. The name doesn't really mean much does it? Does it change anything? No. Not really. It's just a grandiose way for a group of people to feel important. Do you feel important, Dr. Gould?”

  Inspector Amaro sure liked to hear himself talk.

  “I wasn't just trying to help you in Rome. No, I was observing you, reporting back anything of value that I found and do you want to know what I found? A whole lot of value. You are too good to be caught up in all of David Purdue's incompetent drama, Dr. Gould. You clearly always have been.”

  “You were spying on me?”

  “No, no, nothing as crass as that. I simply paid attention when I interacted with you. I pride myself on my ability to read people. I've always been a rather observant individual. It's the big picture that sometimes overwhelms my senses.”

  She recalled the small notebook that Inspector Amaro often pulled out of his jacket to make some scribbles on. It occurred to her how often he seemed to do that when they were speaking—no, when she was speaking. He was jotting down his observations, taking notes on her to give to his superiors. She couldn't believe how obvious it was now that something was off during that time. He might as well have been holding up a giant camera to her face and recording her.

  “And why did this super-secret unnamed club of yours want you to take notes on me?”

  “To see if you would be a good fit.”

  “A good fit?”

  “A good fit to join our ranks, of course. I saw how successful you were in finding the lost sword of Julius Caesar, something that no one had ever been able to do after two thousand years. I saw how you overcame the obstacle of the Third Triumvirate, people that probably would have killed anyone else that got in their way. You are far more gifted than you give yourself credit for, and that David Purdue has given you credit for. You are special, Nina. We all see it. Even the greatest of us...she sees it too.”

  Nina remembered what Purdue had said after they first caught wind of this group that was operating in the shadows. That man that nearly killed them back in Mongolia—the one who revealed the existence of this group—mentioned an old lady and according to Purdue, so had the imprisoned Julian Corvus. Whoever this elderly woman was, she had to be important to merit those particular mentions. She was the one strand that weaved through the rest of the vague information that was plaguing Purdue's mind back in the compound.

  Nina decided to just go for it. “Who is she?”

  “Someone who has seen much and wants the world to see even more. She was impressed by everything she heard about you, including the observations I made during our brief time together in Rome. She sent me here to deliver the invitation. She would love the chance to be able to speak with you.”

  This couldn't be happening. The longer this conversation went, the more vital information she was uncovering. Purdue was probably still slaving away in his office, trying to get even a crumb of real information about these enemies, and here she was, having so much more information willingly handed over to her. This whole thing was just a pitch to convince her to join, she understood that, which made her a little anxious about what would happen when she declined this offer to join them. It wouldn't be anything good, especially after they filled her head with so much intelligence about them. If she didn't join them, she was just a liability. She would just have to cross that bridge when she got there.

  She didn't want to just abandon the assignment that Purdue had given her but it wasn't exactly crucial to anyone's survival. She would be much more useful learning all she could about the Order of the Black Sun's new opponent. She was sure Purdue would forgive her if she came back with good news about his invisible foe.

  “Okay,” Nina said. “I'll meet with her.”

  8

  FINDING SOMETHING INVISIBLE

  David Purdue hadn't gone to visit Mama May in quite some time; not since he had taken over the Order of the Black Sun. The fortune-teller was in her quiet little home in the French Quarter of New Orleans, as always, waiting to deliver her predictions and prophecies to anyone that was willing to listen. There were many people claiming to be psychic in a spooky place like the swamps of Louisiana but most of those people were just frauds and charlatans. Mama May was the real deal; Purdue had seen her gifts firsthand when she warned him of the grave future that was awaiting him. Her warnings had hel
ped him overcome the worst part of his life and were essential to his eventual victory over Julian Corvus and his takeover of the Black Sun.

  He entered the home quietly, as always, and found Mama May sitting in front of the fire just like she had been the first two times he visited her. She was facing away from him but Purdue knew that she could see him very clearly anyway.

  “I have not seen you for some time,” Mama May said. “I thought you had forgotten old Mama May or maybe you didn't need to hear what I had to say anymore. Or maybe you were dead, and had fallen to the future I saw might happen.”

  That was the key to Mama May's predictions. Just like her name implied and as she liked to say, she only saw what may happen, not what was guaranteed to happen. She saw a possible future, but it wasn't definitive by any means. That was something Purdue liked since no matter how dire the future sounded when she talked about it, there was a chance it might not be as bad as she said it would be.

  “Aye, I made it out alive,” Purdue said, walking over to her couch across from her. “More than alive, really.”

  “Yes...” Mama May said, still staring at the fire. “Much more than just alive. You are flourishing. You have taken the end I saw for you, and turned it into something else, carved a path when there was none. You are now of the people you once called foes.”

  “I beat the people that destroyed my life, aye,” Purdue said. “And then I made sure they could never do it to anyone else...the only way I knew how.”

  “By becoming them.”

  Purdue chuckled. “We're not the same as them. We've only kept the name, their base of operations, and the artifacts they had really.”

  “I am sure you have heard the term slippery slope...and you, David Purdue, are walking one...right at this very moment. To take another's name is to associate yourself with everything they have done, everything they were, are, and could be. By taking their home, you are living how they lived, sleeping where they slept. And by taking what was theirs, you are taking ownership of what was not yours to take. You are much more like them than you realize.”