The Tyrant's Tomb (The Trials of Apollo, #4)(37)

I remembered my elephant friend Livia back at the Waystation in Indianapolis. She, too, had been grief-stricken, having lost her mate to Commodus’s brutal games. If we survived this upcoming battle, perhaps I should try to introduce Livia and Hannibal. They’d make a cute couple.

I mentally slapped myself. What was I thinking? I had enough to worry about without playing matchmaker to pachyderms.

I climbed down from my perch, careful to protect my bandaged gut.

Frank studied me, perhaps worried by how stiffly I was moving.

“You ready for your quest?” he asked.

“Is the answer to that question ever yes?”

“Good point.”

“And what will you do while we’re gone?”

Frank ran a hand across his buzz cut. “Everything we can. Shore up the valley’s defenses. Keep Ella and Tyson working on the Sibylline Books. Send eagles to scout the coast. Keep the legion drilling so they don’t have time to worry about what’s coming. Mostly, though? It’s about being with the troops, assuring them that everything is going to be okay.”

Lying to them, in other words, I thought, though that was bitter and uncharitable.

Hannibal stuck his battering ram upright in a sinkhole. He patted the old tree trunk as if to say, There you go, little fella. Now you can start growing again.

Even the elephant was hopelessly optimistic.

“I don’t know how you do it,” I admitted. “Staying positive after all that’s happened.”

Frank kicked a piece of stone. “What’s the alternative?”

“A nervous breakdown?” I suggested. “Running away? But I’m new to this being mortal business.”

“Yeah, well. I can’t say those ideas haven’t crossed my mind, but you can’t really do that when you’re a praetor.” He frowned. “Though I’m worried about Reyna. She’s been carrying the burden a lot longer than I have. Years longer. The strain of that…I dunno. I just wish I could help her more.”

I recalled Venus’s warning: You will not stick your ugly, unworthy godly face anywhere near her. I wasn’t sure which idea was more terrifying: that I might make Reyna’s life worse, or that I might be responsible for making her life better.

Frank apparently misinterpreted my look of concern. “Hey, you’ll be fine. Hazel will keep you safe. She’s one powerful demigod.”

I nodded, trying to swallow the bitter taste in my mouth. I was tired of others keeping me safe. The whole point of consulting the arrow had been to figure out how I could get back to the business of keeping others safe. That used to be so easy with my godlike powers.

Was it, though? another part of my brain asked. Did you keep the Sibyl safe? Or Hyacinthus or Daphne? Or your own son Asclepius? Should I go on?

Shut up, me, I thought back.

“Hazel seems more worried about you,” I ventured. “She mentioned some crazy stunts in the last battle?”

Frank squirmed as if trying to shake an ice cube out of his shirt. “It wasn’t like that. I just did what I had to.”

“And your piece of tinder?” I pointed to the pouch hanging from his belt. “You’re not worried about what Ella said…? Something about fires and bridges?”

Frank gave me a dry little smile. “What, me worry?”

He reached into the pouch and casually pulled out his life stick: a chunk of charred wood the size of a TV remote control. He flipped it and caught it, which almost gave me a panic attack. He might as well have pulled out his beating heart and started juggling it.

Even Hannibal looked uncomfortable. The elephant shifted from foot to foot, shaking his massive head.

“Shouldn’t that stick be locked in the principia’s vault?” I asked. “Or coated in magical flame retardant at least?”

“The pouch is flameproof,” Frank said. “Compliments of Leo. Hazel carried it for me for a while. We talked about other ways to keep it safe. But honestly, I’ve kind of learned to accept the danger. I prefer having the firewood with me. You know how it is with prophecies. The harder you try to avoid them, the harder you fail.”

I couldn’t argue with that. Still, there was a fine line between accepting one’s fate and tempting it. “I’m guessing Hazel thinks you’re too reckless.”

“That’s an ongoing conversation.” He slipped the firewood back in its pouch. “I promise you, I don’t have a death wish. It’s just…I can’t let fear hold me back. Every time I lead the legion into battle, I have to put everything on the line, commit to the battle one hundred percent. We all do. It’s the only way to win.”

“That’s a very Mars thing to say,” I noted. “Despite my many disagreements with Mars, I mean that as a compliment.”

Frank nodded. “You know, I was standing right about here when Mars appeared on the battlefield last year, told me I was his son. Seems like so long ago.” He gave me a quick scan. “I can’t believe I used to think—”

“That I was your father? But we look so much alike.”

He laughed. “Just take care of yourself, okay? I don’t think I could handle a world with no Apollo in it.”

His tone was so genuine it made me tear up. I’d started to accept that no one wanted Apollo back—not my fellow gods, not the demigods, perhaps not even my talking arrow. Yet Frank Zhang still believed in me.