The Tower of Nero

Page 4

I squirmed in my seat. Oh, why had I thought about the bathroom? I really needed to go now.

Outside, the illuminated billboards of New Jersey zipped by: ads for auto dealerships where you could buy an impractical race car; injury lawyers you could employ to blame the other drivers once you crashed that race car; casinos where you could gamble away the money you won from the injury lawsuits. The great circle of life.

The station-stop for Newark Airport came and went. Gods help me, I was so desperate I considered making a break for it. In Newark.

Meg stayed put, so I did, too.

The tunnel to New York would be coming up soon. Perhaps, instead of asking to use the restroom, we could spring into action against our captors.…

Lu seemed to read my thoughts. “It’s a good thing you surrendered. Nero has three other teams like mine on this train alone. Every passage—every train, bus, and flight into Manhattan—has been covered. Nero’s got the Oracle of Delphi on his side, remember. He knew you were coming tonight. You were never going to get into the city without being caught.”

Way to crush my hopes, Luguselwa. Telling me that Nero had his ally Python peering into the future for him, using my sacred Oracle against me…Harsh.

Meg, however, suddenly perked up, as if something Lu said gave her hope. “So how is it you’re the one who found us, Lu? Just luck?”

Lu’s tattoos rippled as she flexed her arms, the swirling Celtic circles making me seasick.

“I know you, Sapling,” she said. “I know how to track you. There is no luck.”

I could think of several gods of luck who would disagree with that statement, but I didn’t argue. Being a captive had dampened my desire for small talk.

Lu turned to her companions. “As soon as we get to Penn Station, we deliver our captives to the escort team. I want no mistakes. No one kills the girl or the god unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Is it necessary now?” Gunther asked.

“No,” Lu said. “The princeps has plans for them. He wants them alive.”

The princeps. My mouth tasted bitterer than the bitterest Amtrak coffee. Being marched through Nero’s front door was not how I’d planned to confront him.

One moment we were rumbling across a wasteland of New Jersey warehouses and dockyards. The next, we plunged into darkness, entering the tunnel that would take us under the Hudson River. On the intercom, a garbled announcement informed us that our next stop would be Penn Station.

“I need to pee,” Meg announced.

I stared at her, dumbfounded. Was she really going to follow Lu’s strange instructions? The Gaul had captured us and killed an innocent two-headed snake. Why would Meg trust her?

Meg pressed her heel hard on the top of my foot.

“Yes,” I squeaked. “I also need to pee.” For me, at least, this was painfully true.

“Hold it,” Gunther grumbled.

“I really need to pee.” Meg bounced up and down.

Lu heaved a sigh. Her exasperation did not sound faked. “Fine.” She turned to her squad. “I’ll take them. The rest of you stay here and prepare to disembark.”

None of the Germani objected. They’d probably heard enough of Gunther’s complaints about potty patrol. They began shoving last-minute Danishes into their mouths and gathering up their equipment as Meg and I extracted ourselves from our booth.

“Your gear,” Lu reminded me.

I blinked. Right. Who went to the bathroom without their bow and quiver? That would be stupid. I grabbed my things.

Lu herded us back into the gangway. As soon as the double doors closed behind her, she murmured, “Now.”

Meg bolted for the quiet car.

“Hey!” Lu shoved me out of the way, pausing long enough to mutter, “Block the door. Decouple the coaches,” then raced after Meg.

Do what now?

Two scimitars flashed into existence in Lu’s hands. Wait—she had Meg’s swords? No. Just before the end of the gangway, Meg turned to face her, summoning her own blades, and the two women fought like demons. They were both dimachaeri, the rarest form of gladiator? That must mean— I didn’t have time to think about what that meant.

Behind me, the Germani were shouting and scrambling. They would be through the doors any second.

I didn’t understand exactly what was happening, but it occurred to my stupid slow mortal brain that perhaps, just perhaps, Lu was trying to help us. If I didn’t block the doors like she’d asked, we would be overrun by seven angry sticky-fingered barbarians.

I slammed my foot against the base of the double doors. There were no handles. I had to press my palms against the panels and push them together to keep them shut.

Gunther tackled the doors at full speed, the impact nearly dislocating my jaw. The other Germani piled in behind him. My only advantages were the narrow space they were in, which made it difficult for them to combine their strength, and the Germani’s own lack of sense. Instead of working together to pry the doors apart, they simply pushed and shoved against one another, using Gunther’s face as a battering ram.

Behind me, Lu and Meg jabbed and slashed, their blades furiously clanging against one another.

“Good, Sapling,” Lu said under her breath. “You remember your training.” Then louder, for the sake of our audience: “I’ll kill you, foolish girl!”

I imagined how this must look to the Germani on the other side of the Plexiglas: their comrade Lu, trapped in combat with an escaped prisoner, while I attempted to hold them back. My hands were going numb. My arm and chest muscles ached. I glanced around desperately for an emergency door lock, but there was only an emergency OPEN button. What good was that?

The train roared on through the tunnel. I estimated we had only minutes before we pulled into Penn Station, where Nero’s “escort team” would be waiting. I did not wish to be escorted.

Decouple the coaches, Lu had told me.

How was I supposed to do that, especially while holding the gangway doors shut? I was no train engineer! Choo-choos were more Hephaestus’s thing.

I looked over my shoulder, scanning the gangway. Shockingly, there was no clearly labeled switch that would allow a passenger to decouple the train. What was wrong with Amtrak?

There! On the floor, a series of hinged metal flaps overlapped, creating a safe surface for passengers to walk across when the train twisted and turned. One of those flaps had been kicked open, perhaps by Lu, exposing the coupling underneath.

Even if I could reach it from where I stood, which I couldn’t, I doubted I would have the strength and dexterity to stick my arm down there, cut the cables, and pry open the clamp. The gap between the floor panels was too narrow, the coupling too far down. Just to hit it from here, I would have to be the world’s greatest archer!

Oh. Wait…

Against my chest, the doors were bowing under the weight of seven barbarians. An ax blade jutted through the rubber lining next to my ear. Turning around so I could shoot my bow would be madness.

Yes, I thought hysterically. Let’s do that.

I bought myself a moment by pulling out an arrow and jabbing it through the gap between the doors. Gunther howled. The pressure eased as the clump of Germani readjusted. I flipped around so my back was to the Plexiglas, one heel wedged against the base of the doors. I fumbled with my bow and managed to nock an arrow.

Tip: You can use left and right keyboard keys to browse between pages.