The Tower of Nero

My new bow was a god-level weapon from the vaults of Camp Jupiter. My archery skills had improved dramatically over the last six months. Still, this was a terrible idea. It was impossible to shoot properly with one’s back against a hard surface. I simply couldn’t draw the bowstring far enough.

Nevertheless, I fired. The arrow disappeared into the gap in the floor, completely missing the coupling.

“Penn Station in just a minute,” said a voice on the PA system. “Doors will open on the left.”

“Running out of time!” Lu shouted. She slashed at Meg’s head. Meg jabbed low, nearly impaling the Gaul’s thigh.

I shot another arrow. This time the point sparked against the clasp, but the train cars remained stubbornly connected.

The Germani pounded against the doors. A Plexiglas panel popped out of its frame. A fist reached through and grabbed my shirt.

With a desperate shriek, I lurched away from the doors and shot one last time at a full draw. The arrow sliced through the cables and slammed into the clasp. With a shudder and a groan, the coupling broke.

Germani poured into the gangway as I leaped across the widening gap between the coaches. I almost skewered myself on Meg’s and Lu’s scimitars, but I somehow managed to regain my footing.

I turned as the rest of the train shot into the darkness at seventy miles an hour, seven Germani staring at us in disbelief and yelling insults I will not repeat.

For another fifty feet, our decoupled section of the train rolled forward of its own momentum, then slowed to a stop. Meg and Lu lowered their weapons. A brave passenger from the quiet car dared to stick her head out and ask what was going on.

I shushed her.

Lu glared at me. “Took you long enough, Lester. Now let’s move before my men come back. You two just went from capture alive to proof of death is acceptable.”

“I’M CONFUSED,” I SAID AS WE STUMBLED along in the dark tunnels. “Are we still prisoners?”

Lu glanced at me, then at Meg. “Dense for a god, isn’t he?”

“You have no idea,” Meg grumbled.

“Do you work for Nero or not?” I demanded. “And how exactly…?”

I wagged my finger from Lu to Meg, silently asking, How do you know each other? Or perhaps, Are you related since you’re equally annoying?

Then I caught the glint of their matching gold rings, one on each of their middle fingers. I remembered the way Lu and Meg had fought, their four blades slicing and stabbing in perfect synchronization. The obvious truth smacked me in the face.

“You trained Meg,” I realized. “To be a dimachaerus.”

“And she’s kept her skills sharp.” Lu elbowed Meg affectionately. “I’m pleased, Sapling.”

I had never seen Meg look so proud about anything.

She tackled her old trainer in a hug. “I knew you weren’t bad.”

“Hmm.” Lu didn’t seem to know what to do with the hug. She patted Meg on the shoulder. “I’m plenty bad, Sapling. But I’m not going to let Nero torture you anymore. Let’s keep moving.”

Torture. Yes, that was the word.

I wondered how Meg could trust this woman. She’d killed the amphisbaena without batting an eye. I had no doubt she would do the same to me if she felt it necessary.

Worse: Nero paid her salary. Whether Lu had saved us from capture or not, she’d trained Meg, which meant she must have stood by for years while Nero tormented my young friend emotionally and mentally. Lu had been part of the problem—part of Meg’s indoctrination into the emperor’s twisted family. I worried that Meg was slipping into her old patterns. Perhaps Nero had figured out a way to manipulate her indirectly through this former teacher she admired.

On the other hand, I wasn’t sure how to broach that subject. We were trekking through a maze of subway-maintenance tunnels with only Lu as our guide. She had a lot more weapons than I did. Also, Meg was my master. She’d told me we were going to follow Lu, so that’s what we did.

We continued our march, Meg and Lu trudging side by side, me straggling behind. I’d like to tell you I was “guarding their six,” or performing some other important task, but I think Meg had just forgotten about me.

Overhead, steel-caged work lights cast prison-bar shadows across the brick walls. Mud and slime coated the floor, exuding a smell like the old casks of “wine” Dionysus insisted on keeping in his cellar, despite the fact that they had long ago turned to vinegar. At least Meg’s sneakers would no longer smell like horse poop. They would now be coated with new and different toxic waste.

After stumbling along for another million miles, I ventured to ask, “Miss Lu, where are we going?” I was startled by the volume of my own voice echoing through the dark.

“Away from the search grid,” she said, as if this were obvious. “Nero has tapped most of the closed-circuit cameras in Manhattan. We need to get off his radar.”

It was a bit jarring to hear a Gaulish warrior talking about radar and cameras.

I wondered again how Lu had come into Nero’s service.

As much as I hated to admit it, the emperors of the Triumvirate were basically minor gods. They were picky about which followers they allowed to spend eternity with them. The Germani made sense. Dense and cruel as they might be, the imperial bodyguards were fiercely loyal. But why a Gaul? Luguselwa must have been valuable to Nero for reasons beyond her sword skills. I didn’t trust that such a warrior would turn on her master after two millennia.

My suspicions must have radiated from me like heat from an oven. Lu glanced back and noted my frown. “Apollo, if I wanted you dead, you would already be dead.”

True, I thought, but Lu could have added, If I wanted to trick you into following me so I could deliver you alive to Nero, this is exactly what I’d be doing.

Lu quickened her pace. Meg scowled at me like, Be nice to my Gaul, then she hurried to catch up.

I lost track of time. The adrenaline spike from the train fight faded, leaving me weary and sore. Sure, I was still running for my life, but I’d spent most of the last six months running for my life. I couldn’t maintain a productive state of panic indefinitely. Tunnel goo soaked into my socks. My shoes felt like squishy clay pots.

For a while, I was impressed by how well Lu knew the tunnels. She forged ahead, taking us down one turn after another. Then, when she hesitated at a junction a bit too long, I realized the truth.

“You don’t know where we’re going,” I said.

She scowled. “I told you. Away from the—”

“Search grid. Cameras. Yes. But where are we going?”

“Somewhere. Anywhere safe.”

I laughed. I surprised myself by actually feeling relieved. If Lu was this clueless about our destination, then I felt safer trusting her. She had no grand plan. We were lost. What a relief!

Lu did not seem to appreciate my sense of humor.

“Excuse me if I had to improvise,” she grumbled. “You’re fortunate I found you on that train rather than one of the emperor’s other search parties. Otherwise you’d be in Nero’s holding cell right now.”

Meg gave me another scowl. “Yeah, Lester. Besides, it’s fine.”

She pointed to an old section of Greek-key-design tile along the left-hand corridor, perhaps left over from an abandoned subway line. “I recognize that. There should be an exit up ahead.”