The Tower of Nero (The Trials of Apollo #5)(80)

Nero laughed as abruptly as I had. “You can’t! Don’t any of you understand? All the power of the Triumvirate is mine now. My fasces…” His eyes lit with sudden hope. “You haven’t destroyed it yet, because you can’t. Even if you could, you’d release so much power it would burn you to cinders. And even if you didn’t mind dying, the power…all the power I’ve been accumulating for centuries would just sink into Delphi…to—to him. You don’t want that, believe me!”

The terror in his voice was absolutely genuine. I finally realized just how much fear he’d been living with. Python had always been the real power behind the throne—a bigger puppet master than Nero’s mother ever had been. Like most bullies, Nero had been shaped and manipulated by an even stronger abuser.

“You—Pythia,” he said. “Raquel—”

“Rachel.”

“That’s what I said! I can influence the reptile. I can convince him to give you your powers back. But kill me, and all is lost. He—he doesn’t think like a human. He has no mercy, no compassion. He’ll destroy the future of our kind!”

Rachel shrugged. “Seems to me that you’ve chosen your kind, Nero. And it isn’t humanity.”

Nero cast his eyes desperately around the room. He fixed his gaze on Meg, who was now on her feet, swaying wearily in the circle of her imperial siblings. “Meg, dear. Tell them! I said I would let you choose. I trust your sweet nature, your good senses!”

Meg regarded him as if he were a distasteful wall painting.

She addressed her foster siblings: “What you guys have done up till now…it isn’t your fault. It’s Nero’s fault. But now you’ve got to make a choice. Stand up to him, like I did. Drop your weapons.”

Nero hissed. “Ungrateful child. The Beast—”

“The Beast is dead.” Meg tapped the side of her head. “I killed it. Surrender, Nero. My friends will let you live in a nice prison somewhere. It’s more than you deserve.”

“That,” Lu said, “is the best deal you’re going to get, Emperor. Tell your followers to stand down.”

Nero looked on the verge of tears. He seemed like he was ready to set aside centuries of tyranny and power struggles and to betray his reptile overlord. Villainy, after all, was a thankless, exhausting job.

He took a deep breath.

Then he screamed, “KILL THEM ALL!” And a dozen Germani charged me.





WE ALL MAKE OUR CHOICES.

Mine was to turn and run.

Not that I was terrified of a dozen Germani trying to kill me. Okay, yes, I was terrified of a dozen Germani trying to kill me. But also, I had no arrows and no strength left. I badly wanted to hide behind—I mean, stand next to—Rachel, Screech-Bling, and my old friend the low-budget Celtic Wolverine.

And…and. Nero’s words rang in my ears. Destroying the fasces would be deadly. I could not allow anyone else to take that risk. Perhaps the leontocephaline had been amused for reasons Lu hadn’t understood. Perhaps my sacrifice couldn’t be avoided as easily as she believed.

I stumbled into Luguselwa, who managed to catch me without stabbing me to death. Will, still glowing like an overachieving nightlight, had propped Nico against the wall and was now tending to his wounds. Screech-Bling let out a high-pitched whistle, and more troglodytes poured into the room, charging the emperor’s forces in a flurry of shrieks, mining picks, and stylish headwear.

I gasped for breath, making a grabby-hand gesture at Rachel. “Give me the fasces.”

“Please?” she prompted. “And, Gee, sorry, I underestimated you, Rachel, you’re actually kind of a warrior queen?”

“Yes, please, and thank you, and all of that!”

Lu scowled. “Apollo, are you sure you can destroy it? I mean, without killing yourself?”

“No and no,” I said.

Rachel stared into the air, as if reading a prophecy written in the dancing lights of the disco ball. “I can’t see the outcome,” she said. “But he has to try.”

I took the fasces, struggling not to collapse under its weight. The ceremonial weapon hummed and shuddered like an overheating race-car engine. Its aura made my pores pop and my ears ring. My side started to bleed again, if it had ever really stopped. I wasn’t thrilled about the blood trickling down my chest and into my underwear while I had an important job to do. Sorry again, underwear.

“Cover me,” I told the ladies.

Lu leaped into battle, stabbing, slashing, and kicking any Germani who got past the troglodytes. Rachel pulled out a blue plastic hairbrush and threw it at the nearest barbarian, beaning him in the eye and making him howl.

Sorry I underestimated you, Rachel, I thought distantly. You’re actually kind of a hairbrush ninja.

I cast a worried glance across the room. Meg was all right. More than all right. She had convinced all her remaining foster siblings to throw down their weapons. Now she stood in front of them like a general trying to shore up her demoralized troops. Or—a less flattering comparison—she reminded me of one of Hades’s dog trainers working with a pack of new hellhounds. At the moment, the demigods were obeying her commands and staying put, but any sign of weakness from her, any change in the temperature of the battle, and they might break ranks and slaughter everyone in sight.