The Tyrant’s Tomb
I couldn’t argue with that. Still, there was a fine line between accepting one’s fate and tempting it. “I’m guessing Hazel thinks you’re too reckless.”
“That’s an ongoing conversation.” He slipped the firewood back in its pouch. “I promise you, I don’t have a death wish. It’s just…I can’t let fear hold me back. Every time I lead the legion into battle, I have to put everything on the line, commit to the battle one hundred percent. We all do. It’s the only way to win.”
“That’s a very Mars thing to say,” I noted. “Despite my many disagreements with Mars, I mean that as a compliment.”
Frank nodded. “You know, I was standing right about here when Mars appeared on the battlefield last year, told me I was his son. Seems like so long ago.” He gave me a quick scan. “I can’t believe I used to think—”
“That I was your father? But we look so much alike.”
He laughed. “Just take care of yourself, okay? I don’t think I could handle a world with no Apollo in it.”
His tone was so genuine it made me tear up. I’d started to accept that no one wanted Apollo back—not my fellow gods, not the demigods, perhaps not even my talking arrow. Yet Frank Zhang still believed in me.
Before I could do anything embarrassing—like hug him, or cry, or start believing I was a worthwhile individual—I spotted my three quest partners trudging toward us.
Lavinia wore a purple camp T-shirt and ratty jeans over a silver leotard. Her sneakers sported glittery pink laces that matched her hair and no doubt helped her with her stealthy moves. Her manubalista clunked against her shoulder.
Hazel looked slightly more ninja-esque in her black jeans and black zip-front cardigan, her oversize cavalry sword strapped to her belt. I recalled that she favored the spatha because she sometimes fought on horseback while riding the immortal steed Arion. Alas, I doubted Hazel would summon Arion for our quest today. A magical horse wouldn’t be much use for sneaking around an underground tomb.
As for Meg, she looked like Meg. Her red high-tops and yellow leggings clashed epically with her new unicorn T-shirt, which she seemed determined to wear until it fell to pieces. She had applied adhesive bandages across her cheekbones, like warriors or footballers might do. Perhaps she thought they made her look “commando,” despite the fact that the bandages were decorated with pictures of Dora the Explorer.
“What are those for?” I demanded.
“They keep the light out of my eyes.”
“It’ll be nighttime soon. We’re going underground.”
“They make me look scary.”
“Not even remotely.”
“Shut up,” she ordered, so of course, I had to.
Hazel touched Frank’s elbow. “Can I talk with you for a sec?”
It wasn’t really a question. She led him out of earshot, followed by Hannibal, who apparently decided their private conversation required an elephant.
“Oy.” Lavinia turned to Meg and me. “We may be here awhile. When those two start mother-henning…I swear, if they could encase each other in Styrofoam peanuts, they would.”
She sounded part judgmental, part wistful, as if she wished she had an overprotective girlfriend who would encase her in Styrofoam peanuts. I could very much relate.
Hazel and Frank had an anxious exchange. I couldn’t hear their words, but I imagined the conversation went something like:
I’m worried about you.
No, I’m worried about you.
But I’m more worried.
No, I’m more worried.
Meanwhile, Hannibal stomped and grunted like he was enjoying himself.
Finally, Hazel rested her fingers on Frank’s arm, as if she were afraid he might dissolve into smoke. Then she marched back to us.
“All right,” she announced, her expression dour. “Let’s go find this tomb before I change my mind.”
Nightmare carousel
Totally let your kids ride
I’m sure they’ll be fine
“NICE NIGHT FOR A hike,” Lavinia said.
The sad thing was, I think she meant it.
By that point, we’d been trekking through the Berkeley Hills for over an hour. Despite the cool weather, I was dripping sweat and gasping for breath. Why did hilltops have to be uphill? Lavinia wasn’t satisfied with sticking to the valleys, either. Oh, no. She wanted to conquer every summit for no apparent reason. Like fools, we followed her.
We had crossed the borders of Camp Jupiter without a problem. Terminus hadn’t even popped up to check our passports. So far we had not been accosted by ghouls or panhandling fauns.
The scenery was pleasant enough. The trail wound through sweet-smelling sage and bay laurel. To our left, silver luminescent fog blanketed the San Francisco Bay. Before us, the hills formed an archipelago of darkness in the ocean of city lights. Regional parks and nature reserves kept the area mostly wild, Lavinia explained.
“Just be on the lookout for mountain lions,” she said. “They’re all over these hills.”
“We’re going to face the undead,” I said, “and you’re warning us about mountain lions?”
Lavinia shot me a look like, Dude.
She was right, of course. With my luck, I would probably come all this way, fighting monsters and evil emperors, only to get killed by an overgrown house cat.
“How much farther?” I asked.
“Not this again,” Lavinia said. “You aren’t even carrying a coffin this time. We’re about halfway there.”
“Halfway. And we couldn’t have taken a car, or a giant eagle, or an elephant?”
Hazel patted me on the shoulder. “Relax, Apollo. Sneaking up on foot draws less attention. Besides, this is an easy quest. Most of mine have been like Go to Alaska and fight literally everything along the way, or Sail halfway across the world and be seasick for months. This is just Go over that hill and check on a merry-go-round.”
“A zombie-infested merry-go-round,” I corrected. “And we’ve been over several hills.”
Hazel glanced at Meg. “Does he always complain this much?”
“He used to be a lot whinier.”
Hazel whistled softly.
“I know,” Meg agreed. “Big baby.”
“I beg your pardon!” I said.
“Shh,” Lavinia said, before blowing and popping a giant pink bubble. “Stealth, remember?”
We continued along the trail for another hour or so. As we passed a silver lake nestled between the hills, I couldn’t help thinking it was just the sort of place my sister would love. Oh, how I wished she would appear with her Hunters!
Despite our differences, Artemis understood me. Well, okay, she tolerated me. Most of the time. All right, some of the time. I longed to see her beautiful, annoying face again. That’s how lonely and pathetic I had become.
Meg walked a few yards ahead of me, flanking Lavinia so they could share bubble gum and talk unicorns. Hazel hiked at my side, though I got the feeling she was mostly trying to make sure I didn’t collapse.
“You don’t look so good,” she noted.
“What gave it away? The cold sweat? The rapid breathing?”
In the darkness, Hazel’s gold eyes reminded me of an owl’s: supremely alert, ready to fly or pounce as needed. “How’s the gut wound?”