The Tower of Nero

Page 59

The demigods of the imperial family did not look pleased. They’d been about to give Meg the Julius-Caesar-in-the-Senate treatment, but at Nero’s command, they stayed their weapons.

Rachel Dare scanned the room: the pollen-covered furniture and barbarians, the overgrown dryad trees, the pile of bull bones, the cracked windows and columns, the shades still going up and down on their own, the TVs blaring, the Bee Gees playing, the disco ball swirling.

“What have you guys been doing in here?” she muttered.

Will Solace strode confidently across the room, barking “Out of my way!” to the Germani. He marched straight to Nico and helped the son of Hades to his feet. Then he dragged Nico back to the entrance. No one tried to stop them.

The emperor inched backward on his dais. He put one hand behind him, as if to reassure himself that his sofa was still there in case he needed to faint dramatically. He ignored Will and Nico. His eyes were fixed on Rachel and the fasces.

“You.” Nero wagged his finger at my red-headed friend. “You’re the Pythia.”

Rachel hefted the fasces in her arms like a baby—a very heavy, pointy golden baby. “Rachel Elizabeth Dare,” she said. “And right now, I’m the girl holding your life in her hands.”

Nero licked his lips. He frowned, then grimaced, as if exercising his facial muscles for an onstage soliloquy. “You, ah, you all should be dead.”

He sounded both polite and vexed, as if chiding our comrades for not calling first before dropping by for dinner.

From behind Luguselwa, a smaller figure emerged: Screech-Bling, CEO of Troglodyte Inc., festooned with six new hats atop his tricorn. His grin was almost as bright as Will Solace.

“Gas traps are—CLICK—finicky!” he said. “Have to be sure the detonators are working.” He opened his hand and let four nine-volt batteries tumble to the floor.

Nero glared at his foster children as if to say, You had one job.

“And how exactly…?” Nero blinked and squinted. The glow of his own fasces seemed to hurt his eyes. “The leontocephaline…You couldn’t have defeated him.”

“I didn’t.” Lu stepped forward, allowing me a closer look at her new attachments. Someone—I guessed Will—had fixed her up with fresh bandages, more surgical tape, and better blades, giving her a low-budget Wolverine look. “I traded what the guardian required: my immortality.”

“But you don’t have…” Nero’s throat seemed to close up. A look of dread came over his face, which was like watching someone press on wet sand and expel water from the center.

I had to laugh. It was totally inappropriate, but it felt good.

“Lu has immortality,” I said, “because you’re immortal. The two of you have been connected for centuries.”

Nero’s eye twitched. “But that’s my eternal life! You can’t trade my life for my life!”

Lu shrugged. “It’s a little shady, I agree. But the leontocephaline seemed to find it…amusing.”

Nero stared at her in disbelief. “You would kill yourself just to kill me?”

“In a heartbeat,” Lu said. “But it won’t come to that. I’m just a regular mortal now. Destroying the fasces will do the same to you.” She gestured to her Germanic former comrades. “And all your other guards, too. They’ll be free of your bondage. Then…we’ll see how long you last.”

Nero laughed as abruptly as I had. “You can’t! Don’t any of you understand? All the power of the Triumvirate is mine now. My fasces…” His eyes lit with sudden hope. “You haven’t destroyed it yet, because you can’t. Even if you could, you’d release so much power it would burn you to cinders. And even if you didn’t mind dying, the power…all the power I’ve been accumulating for centuries would just sink into Delphi…to—to him. You don’t want that, believe me!”

The terror in his voice was absolutely genuine. I finally realized just how much fear he’d been living with. Python had always been the real power behind the throne—a bigger puppet master than Nero’s mother ever had been. Like most bullies, Nero had been shaped and manipulated by an even stronger abuser.

“You—Pythia,” he said. “Raquel—”

“Rachel.”

“That’s what I said! I can influence the reptile. I can convince him to give you your powers back. But kill me, and all is lost. He—he doesn’t think like a human. He has no mercy, no compassion. He’ll destroy the future of our kind!”

Rachel shrugged. “Seems to me that you’ve chosen your kind, Nero. And it isn’t humanity.”

Nero cast his eyes desperately around the room. He fixed his gaze on Meg, who was now on her feet, swaying wearily in the circle of her imperial siblings. “Meg, dear. Tell them! I said I would let you choose. I trust your sweet nature, your good senses!”

Meg regarded him as if he were a distasteful wall painting.

She addressed her foster siblings: “What you guys have done up till now…it isn’t your fault. It’s Nero’s fault. But now you’ve got to make a choice. Stand up to him, like I did. Drop your weapons.”

Nero hissed. “Ungrateful child. The Beast—”

“The Beast is dead.” Meg tapped the side of her head. “I killed it. Surrender, Nero. My friends will let you live in a nice prison somewhere. It’s more than you deserve.”

“That,” Lu said, “is the best deal you’re going to get, Emperor. Tell your followers to stand down.”

Nero looked on the verge of tears. He seemed like he was ready to set aside centuries of tyranny and power struggles and to betray his reptile overlord. Villainy, after all, was a thankless, exhausting job.

He took a deep breath.

Then he screamed, “KILL THEM ALL!” And a dozen Germani charged me.

WE ALL MAKE OUR CHOICES.

Mine was to turn and run.

Not that I was terrified of a dozen Germani trying to kill me. Okay, yes, I was terrified of a dozen Germani trying to kill me. But also, I had no arrows and no strength left. I badly wanted to hide behind—I mean, stand next to—Rachel, Screech-Bling, and my old friend the low-budget Celtic Wolverine.

And…and. Nero’s words rang in my ears. Destroying the fasces would be deadly. I could not allow anyone else to take that risk. Perhaps the leontocephaline had been amused for reasons Lu hadn’t understood. Perhaps my sacrifice couldn’t be avoided as easily as she believed.

I stumbled into Luguselwa, who managed to catch me without stabbing me to death. Will, still glowing like an overachieving nightlight, had propped Nico against the wall and was now tending to his wounds. Screech-Bling let out a high-pitched whistle, and more troglodytes poured into the room, charging the emperor’s forces in a flurry of shrieks, mining picks, and stylish headwear.

I gasped for breath, making a grabby-hand gesture at Rachel. “Give me the fasces.”

“Please?” she prompted. “And, Gee, sorry, I underestimated you, Rachel, you’re actually kind of a warrior queen?”

“Yes, please, and thank you, and all of that!”

Lu scowled. “Apollo, are you sure you can destroy it? I mean, without killing yourself?”

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