The Tower of Nero (The Trials of Apollo #5)(64)

“Get his sword,” Lu ordered.

I did. Then, using Gunther’s body as a bridge across the slippery salve, we escaped into the hall, the eye of the security camera watching as we fled.

“Here.” Lu gestured to what appeared to be a closet door.

I kicked it in, realizing only afterward that 1) I had no idea why, and 2) I trusted Lu enough not to ask.

Inside were shelves stacked with personal possessions—packs, clothes, weapons, shields. I wondered what unfortunate prisoners they had once belonged to. Leaning against a back corner were my bow and quivers.

“Aha!” I grabbed them. With amazement, I drew the Arrow of Dodona from my otherwise empty quivers. “Thank the gods. How are you still here?”

THOU ART PLEASED TO SEE ME, the arrow noted.

“Well, I thought the emperor would have taken you. Or turned you into kindling!”

NERO IS NOT WORTH A FIG, said the arrow. HE SEES NOT MY BRILLIANCE.

Somewhere down the hall, an alarm began to blare. The overhead lighting changed from white to red.

“Could you talk with your projectile later?” Lu suggested. “We have to move!”

“Right,” I said. “Which way to the fasces?”

“Left,” Lu said. “So you go right.”

“Wait, what? You said it’s left.”

“Right.”

“Right?”

ODS BODKINS! The arrow vibrated in my hand. JUST LISTEN TO THE GAUL!

“I’m going after the fasces,” Lu explained. “You’re going to find Meg.”

“But…” My head spun. Was this a trick? Hadn’t we agreed? I was ready for my close-up, my big heroic sacrifice. “The leontocephaline demands immortality for immortality. I have to—”

“I’ve got it covered,” Lu said. “Don’t worry. Besides, we Celts lost most of our gods long ago. I’m not going to stand by while another deity dies.”

“But you’re not—”

I stopped myself. I was about to say immortal. Then I considered how many centuries Lu had been alive. Would the leontocephaline accept her life as payment?

My eyes filled with tears. “No,” I said. “Meg can’t lose you.”

Lu snorted. “I won’t get myself killed if I can help it. I have a plan, but you need to move. Meg is in danger. Her room is six floors up. Southeast corner. Follow the stairs at the end of the hall.”

I started to protest, but the Arrow of Dodona buzzed in warning. I needed to trust Lu. I needed to cede the battle to the better warrior.

“Fine,” I relented. “Can I at least tape a sword to your arm?”

“No time,” she said. “Too unwieldy. Wait, actually. That dagger over there. Unsheathe it and put the blade between my teeth.”

“How will that help?”

“Probably won’t,” she admitted. “But it’ll look cool.”

I did as she asked.

Now she stood before me as LuBeard the Pirate, cutlery-wielding terror of the Seven Seas.

“Ood ruhk,” she mumbled around the blade. Then she turned and raced away.

“What just happened?” I asked.

THOU HAST MADE A FRIEND, the arrow said. NOW REFILLEST THY QUIVERS SO THOU SHALT NOT SHOOT WITH ME.

“Right.” With shaky hands, I scavenged as many intact arrows as I could find in the prisoners’ storeroom and added them to my arsenal. Alarms kept blaring. The bloodred light was not helping my anxiety level.

I started down the hall. I’d barely made it halfway when the Arrow of Dodona buzzed, LOOK OUT!

A mortal security guard in tactical riot gear rounded the corner, barreling toward me with his handgun raised. Not being well prepared, I screamed and threw Gunther’s sword at him. By some miracle, the hilt hit him in the face and knocked him down.

THAT IS NOT NORMALLY HOW ONE USETH A SWORD, the arrow said.

“Always a critic,” I grumbled.

MEG IS IN PERIL, he said.

“Meg is in peril,” I agreed. I stepped over the mortal guard, now curled on the floor and groaning. “Terribly sorry.” I kicked him in the face. He stopped moving and began to snore. I ran on.

I burst into the stairwell and took the concrete steps two at a time. The Arrow of Dodona remained clutched in my hand. I probably should have put it away and readied my bow with normal missiles, but to my surprise, I found that its running Shakespearean commentary boosted my shaky morale.

From the floor above me, two Germani rushed into the stairwell and charged me with spears leveled.

Now lacking even Gunther’s sword, I thrust out my free hand, shut my eyes, and screamed as if this would make them go away, or at least make my death less painful.

My fingers burned. Flames roared. The two Germani yelled in terror, then were silent.

When I opened my eyes, my hand was smoking but unharmed. Flames licked at the peeling paint on the walls. On the steps above me were two piles of ash where the Germani had been.

THOU SHOULDST DO THAT MORE OFTEN, the arrow advised.

The idea made me sick to my stomach. Once, I would have been delighted to summon the power to blowtorch my enemies. But now, after knowing Lu, I wondered how many of these Germani really wanted to serve Nero, and how many had been conscripted into his service with no choice. Enough people had died. My grudge was with only one person, Nero, and one reptile, Python.