The Tower of Nero (The Trials of Apollo #5)(45)

Will: Worry. Trogs. Dangerous. Yikes.

Nico: Trogs good. Nice hats.

Or something along those lines.

After a while, the trog with the chef’s hat materialized at our campsite. In his hand was a steaming ladle. “Screech-Bling will talk to you now,” he said in heavily Troglodytish-laced English.

We all began to rise, but the chef stopped us with a sweep of his ladle. “Only Nico, the Italian wall lizard—um, SQUEAK—I mean the Italian son of Hades. The rest of you will wait here until dinner.”

His gleaming eyes seemed to add, When you may or may not be on the menu!

Nico squeezed Will’s hand. “It’ll be fine. Back soon.”

Then he and the chef were gone. In exasperation, Will threw himself down on his fireside mat and put his backpack over his face, reducing our Will-glow illumination by about fifty percent.

Rachel scanned the encampment, her eyes glittering in the gloom.

I wondered what she saw with her ultra-clear vision. Perhaps the troglodytes looked even scarier than I realized. Perhaps their hats were even more magnificent. Whatever the case, her shoulders curved as tense as a drawn bow. Her fingers traced the soot-stained floor as if she were itching for her paintbrushes.

“When you surrender to Nero,” she told me, “the first thing you’ll need to do is buy us time.”

Her tone disturbed me almost as much as her words: when I surrendered, not if. Rachel had accepted that it was the only way. The reality of my predicament curled up and nestled in my throat like a five-lined skink.

I nodded. “B-buy time. Yes.”

“Nero will want to burn down New York as soon as he has you,” she said. “Why would he wait? Unless you give him a reason…”

I had a feeling I would not like Rachel’s next suggestion. I didn’t have a clear understanding of what Nero intended to do to me once I surrendered—other than the obvious torture and death. Luguselwa seemed to believe the emperor would keep Meg and me alive at least for a while, though she had been vague about what she knew of Nero’s plans.

Commodus had wanted to make a public spectacle out of my death. Caligula had wanted to extract what remained of my godhood and add it to his own power with the help of Medea’s sorcery. Nero might have similar ideas. Or—and I feared this was most likely—once he finished torturing me, he might surrender me to Python to seal their alliance. No doubt my old reptilian enemy would enjoy swallowing me whole, letting me die in his belly over the course of many excruciating days of digestion. So, there was that to look forward to.

“Wh-what reason would make Nero wait?” I asked.

Apparently, I was picking up Troglodytish, because my voice was punctuated by clicks and squeaks.

Rachel traced curlicues in the soot—waves, perhaps, or a line of people’s heads. “You said Camp Half-Blood was standing by to help?”

“Yes…Kayla and Austin told me they would remain on alert. Chiron should be back at camp soon as well. But an attack on Nero’s tower would be doomed. The whole point of our surrender—”

“Is to distract the emperor from what Nico, Will, and I will be doing, hopefully, with the trogs’ help: disabling the Greek-fire vats. But you’ll need to give Nero another incentive to keep him from pushing that button the minute you surrender. Otherwise we’ll never have time to sabotage his doomsday weapon, no matter how fast the trogs can run or dig.”

I understood what she was suggesting. The five-lined skink of reality began its slow, painful slide down my esophagus.

“You want to alert Camp Half-Blood,” I said. “Have them initiate an attack anyway. Despite the risks.”

“I don’t want any of this,” she said. “But it’s the only way. It’ll have to be carefully timed. You and Meg surrender. We get to work with the troglodytes. Camp Half-Blood musters for an attack. But if Nero thinks the entire camp is coming to him—”

“That would be worth waiting for. To take out the entire population of Camp Half-Blood while he destroys the city, all in one terrible firestorm.” I swallowed. “I could just bluff. I could claim reinforcements are coming.”

“No,” Rachel said. “It has to be real. Nero has Python on his side. Python would know.”

I didn’t bother asking her how. The monster might not have been able to see through Rachel’s eyes yet, but I remembered all too well how his voice had sounded speaking through her mouth. They were connected. And that connection was getting stronger.

I was reluctant to consider the details of such an insane plan, but I found myself asking, “How would you alert the camp?”

Rachel gave me a thin smile. “I can use cell phones. I don’t normally carry one, but I’m not a demigod. Assuming I make it back to the surface, where cell phones actually, you know, work, I can buy a cheap one. Chiron has a crappy old computer in the Big House. He hardly ever uses it, but he knows to look for messages or e-mails in emergency situations. I’m pretty sure I can get his attention. Assuming he’s there.”

She sounded so calm, which just made me feel more agitated.

“Rachel, I’m scared,” I admitted. “It was one thing thinking about putting myself in danger. But the entire camp? Everyone?”

Strangely, this comment seemed to please her.

She took my hand. “I know, Apollo. And the fact that you’re worried about other people? That’s beautiful. But you’ll have to trust me. That secret path to the throne…the thing I am supposed to show you? I’m pretty sure this is it. This is how we make things right.”