The Tower of Nero (The Trials of Apollo #5)(7)

I had never seen Meg look so proud about anything.

She tackled her old trainer in a hug. “I knew you weren’t bad.”

“Hmm.” Lu didn’t seem to know what to do with the hug. She patted Meg on the shoulder. “I’m plenty bad, Sapling. But I’m not going to let Nero torture you anymore. Let’s keep moving.”

Torture. Yes, that was the word.

I wondered how Meg could trust this woman. She’d killed the amphisbaena without batting an eye. I had no doubt she would do the same to me if she felt it necessary.

Worse: Nero paid her salary. Whether Lu had saved us from capture or not, she’d trained Meg, which meant she must have stood by for years while Nero tormented my young friend emotionally and mentally. Lu had been part of the problem—part of Meg’s indoctrination into the emperor’s twisted family. I worried that Meg was slipping into her old patterns. Perhaps Nero had figured out a way to manipulate her indirectly through this former teacher she admired.

On the other hand, I wasn’t sure how to broach that subject. We were trekking through a maze of subway-maintenance tunnels with only Lu as our guide. She had a lot more weapons than I did. Also, Meg was my master. She’d told me we were going to follow Lu, so that’s what we did.

We continued our march, Meg and Lu trudging side by side, me straggling behind. I’d like to tell you I was “guarding their six,” or performing some other important task, but I think Meg had just forgotten about me.

Overhead, steel-caged work lights cast prison-bar shadows across the brick walls. Mud and slime coated the floor, exuding a smell like the old casks of “wine” Dionysus insisted on keeping in his cellar, despite the fact that they had long ago turned to vinegar. At least Meg’s sneakers would no longer smell like horse poop. They would now be coated with new and different toxic waste.

After stumbling along for another million miles, I ventured to ask, “Miss Lu, where are we going?” I was startled by the volume of my own voice echoing through the dark.

“Away from the search grid,” she said, as if this were obvious. “Nero has tapped most of the closed-circuit cameras in Manhattan. We need to get off his radar.”

It was a bit jarring to hear a Gaulish warrior talking about radar and cameras.

I wondered again how Lu had come into Nero’s service.

As much as I hated to admit it, the emperors of the Triumvirate were basically minor gods. They were picky about which followers they allowed to spend eternity with them. The Germani made sense. Dense and cruel as they might be, the imperial bodyguards were fiercely loyal. But why a Gaul? Luguselwa must have been valuable to Nero for reasons beyond her sword skills. I didn’t trust that such a warrior would turn on her master after two millennia.

My suspicions must have radiated from me like heat from an oven. Lu glanced back and noted my frown. “Apollo, if I wanted you dead, you would already be dead.”

True, I thought, but Lu could have added, If I wanted to trick you into following me so I could deliver you alive to Nero, this is exactly what I’d be doing.

Lu quickened her pace. Meg scowled at me like, Be nice to my Gaul, then she hurried to catch up.

I lost track of time. The adrenaline spike from the train fight faded, leaving me weary and sore. Sure, I was still running for my life, but I’d spent most of the last six months running for my life. I couldn’t maintain a productive state of panic indefinitely. Tunnel goo soaked into my socks. My shoes felt like squishy clay pots.

For a while, I was impressed by how well Lu knew the tunnels. She forged ahead, taking us down one turn after another. Then, when she hesitated at a junction a bit too long, I realized the truth.

“You don’t know where we’re going,” I said.

She scowled. “I told you. Away from the—”

“Search grid. Cameras. Yes. But where are we going?”

“Somewhere. Anywhere safe.”

I laughed. I surprised myself by actually feeling relieved. If Lu was this clueless about our destination, then I felt safer trusting her. She had no grand plan. We were lost. What a relief!

Lu did not seem to appreciate my sense of humor.

“Excuse me if I had to improvise,” she grumbled. “You’re fortunate I found you on that train rather than one of the emperor’s other search parties. Otherwise you’d be in Nero’s holding cell right now.”

Meg gave me another scowl. “Yeah, Lester. Besides, it’s fine.”

She pointed to an old section of Greek-key-design tile along the left-hand corridor, perhaps left over from an abandoned subway line. “I recognize that. There should be an exit up ahead.”

I wanted to ask how she could possibly know this. Then I remembered Meg had spent a great deal of her childhood roaming dark alleys, derelict buildings, and other strange and unusual places in Manhattan with Nero’s blessing—the evil imperial version of free-range parenting.

I could imagine a younger Meg exploring these tunnels, doing cartwheels in the muck, and growing mushrooms in forgotten locations.

We followed her for…I don’t know, six or seven miles? That’s what it felt like, at least. Once, we stopped abruptly when a deep and distant BOOM echoed through the corridor.

“Train?” I asked nervously, though we’d left the tracks behind long ago.

Lu tilted her head. “No. That was thunder.”