The Tower of Nero (The Trials of Apollo #5)(41)

“Nico does.” Will’s eye twitched. “Although he’s not going to take us out so much as down.”

“To the troglodytes,” Rachel guessed. “What are they like?”

Will moved his hands as if trying to shape something out of clay or indicate the size of a fish he’d caught. “I—I can’t describe them,” he decided.

That wasn’t reassuring. As my child, Will was bound to have some of my poetic ability. If the troglodytes defied description in your average sonnet or limerick, I didn’t want to meet them.

“I hope they can help.” Rachel held up her palm to ward off Will, who was coming to check on her bruised head again. “I’m okay now, thanks.”

She smiled, but her voice was strained. I knew she liked Will. I also knew she had issues with personal space. Becoming the Pythia tended to do that to you. Having the power of Delphi possess your body and soul at random intervals could make you tetchy about people getting too close without your consent. Having Python whispering inside your head probably didn’t help, either.

“I get it.” Will sat back. “You’ve had a rough morning. I’m sorry we brought that kind of trouble to your door.”

Rachel shrugged. “Like I said, I think I’m supposed to be in this trouble. It’s not your fault. A Dare reveals the path that was unknown. For once, I’m part of the prophecy.”

She sounded strangely proud of this fact. Perhaps, after issuing perilous quests for so many other people, Rachel found it nice to be included in our communal death-wish adventure. People like to be seen—even if it’s by the cold, cruel eyes of fate.

“Is it safe for you to come along, though?” Meg asked. “Like…if you’ve got Python in your head or whatever? Won’t he see what we’re doing?”

Rachel pulled her ankles into a tighter crisscross. “I don’t think he’s seeing through me. At least…not yet.” She let that idea settle around us like a layer of swamp gas. “Anyway, you’re not getting rid of me. Python has made this personal.”

She glanced at me, and I couldn’t escape the feeling that Python wasn’t the one she really blamed. This had been personal for her ever since I’d accepted Rachel as my priestess. Ever since…well, ever since I’d been Apollo. If my trials as a mortal had done anything, they had shown me how many times I’d abandoned, forgotten, and failed my Oracles over the centuries. I could not abandon Rachel in the same way. I’d neglected the basic truth that they did not serve me; I was supposed to serve them.

“We’re lucky to have you,” I said. “I only wish we had more time to figure out a plan.”

Rachel checked her watch—a basic windup model, which she’d probably chosen after seeing how easily technology went haywire around demigods, monsters, and the other sorts of magical people she hung out with. “It’s past lunchtime. You’re supposed to surrender to Nero by nightfall. That doesn’t give us much leeway.”

“Oh, lunchtime,” Meg said, staying reliably on-brand. “Will, have you got anything besides Kit Kats? I’m starv—”

She jerked her hand away from Will’s supply kit as if it had shocked her. “Why is there a tail sticking out of your bag?”

Will furrowed his brow. “Oh. Uh, yeah.” He pulled out what appeared to be a foot-long desiccated lizard wrapped in a handkerchief.

“Gross!” Meg said with enthusiasm. “Is that for medicine or something?”

“Er, no,” Will said. “You remember how Nico and I went hunting for a gift for the trogs? Well—”

“Ick.” Rachel scooted away. “Why would they want that?”

Will glanced at me like Please don’t make me say it.

I shuddered. “The troglodytes…If the legends are true…they consider lizards a great, you know…” I mimed putting something in my mouth. “Delicacy.”

Rachel hugged her stomach. “Sorry I asked.”

“Cool,” said Meg. “So if we find the trogs, we give them the lizard and they’ll help us?”

“I doubt it will be that simple,” I said. “Meg, has anyone ever agreed to help you simply because you gave them a dead lizard?”

She pondered the question so long it made me wonder about her past gift-giving practices. “I guess not?”

Will slipped the desiccated animal back in his bag. “Well, this one is apparently rare and special. You don’t want to know how difficult it was to find. Hopefully—”

Nico snorted and began to stir. “Wh-what—?”

“It’s okay,” Will reassured him. “You’re with friends.”

“Friends?” Nico sat up, bleary-eyed.

“Friends.” Will gave us a warning look, as if suggesting we shouldn’t startle Nico with any sudden moves.

I gathered Nico was a grumpy napper like his father, Hades. Wake up Hades prematurely and you were likely to end up as a nuclear-blast shadow on his bedroom wall.

Nico rubbed his eyes and frowned at me. I tried to look harmless.

“Apollo,” he said. “Right. I remember.”

“Good,” Will said. “But you’re still groggy. Have a Kit Kat.”

“Yes, doctor,” Nico muttered.