The Tower of Nero (The Trials of Apollo #5)(72)

My neck hairs stood on end. “Nero. No.”

“Oh, I think yes,” he countered, his voice still pleasant. “You’ve robbed me of my chance to burn down the city, but surely you didn’t think that was my only plan. The backup system is quite intact. You’ve done me the favor of gathering the entire Greek camp in one place! Now, with just a push of a button, everything below the throne room level—”

“Your own people are down here!” I yelled, shaking with fury.

Nero’s distorted face looked pained. “It’s unfortunate, yes. But you’ve forced my hand. At least my darling Meg is here, and some of my other favorites. We will survive. What you don’t seem to realize, Apollo, is that you can’t destroy bank accounts with a bow and arrows. All my assets, all the power I’ve built up for centuries—it’s all safe. And Python is still waiting for your corpse to be delivered to him. So let’s make a deal. I will delay releasing my Sassanid surprise for…say, fifteen minutes. That should be enough time for you to reach the throne room. I’ll let in you, and only you.”

“And Meg?”

Nero looked baffled. “As I said, Meg is fine. I would never hurt her.”

“You—” I choked on my rage. “You do nothing but hurt her.”

He rolled his eyes. “Come on up and we’ll have a chat. I’ll even…” He paused, then laughed as if he’d had a sudden inspiration. “I’ll even let Meg decide what to do with you! Surely that’s more than fair. Your other option is that I release the gas now, then come down and collect your corpse at my leisure, along with those of your friends—”

“No!” I tried to curb the desperation in my voice. “No, I’m coming up.”

“Excellent.” Nero gave me a smug smile. “Ta-ta.”

The screen went dark.

I faced Screech-Bling. He stared back, his expression grim.

“Sassanid gas is very—GRR—bad,” he said. “I see why Red Priestess sent me here.”

“Red—you mean Rachel? She told you to find me?”

Screech-Bling nodded. “She sees things, as you said. The future. The worst enemies. The best hats. She told me to come to this place.”

His voice conveyed a level of reverence that suggested Rachel Elizabeth Dare would be getting free skink soup for the rest of her life. I missed my Pythia. I wished she had sought me out herself, rather than sending Screech-Bling, but since the trog could run at supersonic speed and tear through solid rock, I guessed it made sense.

The CEO scowled at the laptop’s dark cracked monitor. “Is it possible Ne-ACK-ro is bluffing about the gas?”

“No,” I said bitterly. “Nero doesn’t bluff. He likes to boast, then follow through. He’ll release that gas as soon as he has me in the throne room.”

“Fifteen minutes,” Screech-Bling mused. “Not much time. Try to stall him. I will gather the trogs. We will disable this gas, or I will see you in Underheaven!”

“But—”

Screech-Bling vanished in a cloud of dust and bull hair.

I tried to steady my breathing. The troglodytes had come through for us once before when I didn’t believe they would. Still, we weren’t underground now. Nero would not have told me about his poison-gas delivery system if it was easy to find or disarm. If he could fumigate an entire skyscraper at the touch of a button, I didn’t see how the trogs would have time to stop him, or even get our forces safely out of the building. And when I faced the emperor, I had no chance of beating him…unless Lu had succeeded in getting his fasces from the leontocephaline, and that mission also seemed impossible.

On the other hand, I didn’t have much choice but to hope. I had a part to play. Stall Nero. Find Meg.

I marched out of the bedroom.

Fifteen minutes. Then I would end Nero, or he would end me.





THE BLAST DOORS WERE A NICE TOUCH.

I’d found my way back to the throne room level with no problem. The elevators cooperated. The halls were eerily quiet. This time, no one greeted me in the antechamber.

Where the ornamental golden doors had stood before, the entrance to Nero’s inner sanctum was now sealed by massive panels of titanium and Imperial gold. Hephaestus would have salivated at the sight—so much beautiful metalwork, inscribed with sorcerous charms of protection worthy of Hecate. All to keep one slimy emperor safe in his panic room.

Finding no doorbell, I rapped my knuckles on the titanium: Shave and a haircut…

No one gave the proper response, because barbarians. Instead, at the upper left-hand corner of the wall, a security camera light blinked from red to green.

“Good.” Nero’s voice crackled from a speaker in the ceiling. “You’re alone. Smart boy.”

I could have gotten offended by his boy comment, but there was so much else to feel offended by, I figured I’d better pace myself. The doors rumbled, parting just enough for me to squeeze through. They closed behind me.

I scanned the room for Meg. She was nowhere in sight, which made me want to smack a Nero.

The room was mostly unchanged. At the foot of Nero’s dais, the Persian rugs had been replaced to get rid of those annoying bloodstains from Luguselwa’s double amputation. The servants had been cleared out. Forming a semicircle behind Nero’s throne were a dozen Germani, some looking like they’d served as target practice for Camp Half-Blood’s “field trip.” Where Lu and Gunther had stood before, at the emperor’s right hand, a new Germanus had taken their place. He had a stark white beard, a deep vertical scar on the side of his face, and armor stitched from shaggy pelts that would have won him no friends in the animal-rights community.