The Tyrant's Tomb (The Trials of Apollo, #4)(48)

“Add the last breath of the god who speaks not, once his soul is cut free,” Reyna read aloud, “together with the shattered glass. Then the single-deity summoning prayer (see appendix C) must be uttered through the rainbow.” She took a breath. “We don’t have the actual text of that prayer yet, but Ella is confident she can transcribe it before the battle starts, now that she knows what to look for in appendix C.”

Frank glanced at me for a reaction. “Does the rest of it make any sense to you?”

I was so relieved I almost slumped off my three-legged stool. “You got me all worked up. I thought…Well, I’ve been called a lot of things, but never the god who speaks not. It sounds like we must find the soundless god, whom we’ve discussed before, and, er—”

“Kill him?” Reyna asked. “How would killing a god please the gods?”

I didn’t have an answer to that. Then again, many prophecies seemed illogical until they played out. Only in retrospect did they appear obvious.

“Perhaps if I knew which god we’re talking about…” I pounded my fist on my knee. “I feel like I should know, but it’s buried deep. An obscure memory. I don’t suppose you’ve checked your libraries or run a Google search or something?”

“Of course we looked,” Frank said. “There’s no listing for a Roman or Greek god of silence.”

Roman or Greek. I felt sure I was missing something—like part of my brain, for instance. Last breath. His soul is cut free. It definitely sounded like instructions for a sacrifice.

“I have to think on it,” I decided. “As for the rest of the instructions: shattered glass seems like an odd request, but I suppose we can find some easily enough.”

“We could break the jelly bean jar,” Meg suggested.

Reyna and Frank politely ignored her.

“And the single-deity summoning thing?” Frank asked. “I guess that means we won’t be getting a host of gods charging down in their chariots?”

“Probably not,” I agreed.

But my pulse quickened. The possibility of being able to speak to even one fellow Olympian after all this time—to summon actual grade AA–quality, jumbo, cage-free, locally sourced divine help…I found the idea both exhilarating and terrifying. Would I get to choose which god I called, or was it predetermined by the prayer? “Nevertheless, even one god can make all the difference.”

Meg shrugged. “Depends on the god.”

“That hurt,” I said.

“What about the last line?” Reyna asked. “The prayer must be uttered through the rainbow.”

“An Iris-message,” I said, happy I could answer one question at least. “It’s a Greek thing, a way of beseeching Iris, goddess of the rainbow, to carry a message—in this case, a prayer to Mount Olympus. The formula is quite simple.”

“But…” Frank frowned. “Percy told me about Iris-messages. They don’t work anymore, do they? Not since all our communications went silent.”

Communications, I thought. Silent. The soundless god.

I felt as if I’d fallen into the deep end of a very cold pool. “Oh. I am so stupid.”

Meg giggled, but she resisted the many sarcastic comments that no doubt were filling her mind.

I, in turn, resisted the urge to push her off her stool. “This soundless god, whoever he is…What if he’s the reason our communications don’t work? What if the Triumvirate has somehow been harnessing his power to prevent us all from talking to one another, and to keep us from beseeching the gods for help?”

Reyna crossed her arms, blocking out the word FUERTE on her T-shirt. “You’re saying what, this soundless god is in cahoots with the Triumvirate? We have to kill him to open our means of communication? Then we could send an Iris-message, do the ritual, and get divine help? I’m still stuck on the whole killing a god thing.”

I considered the Erythraean Sibyl, whom we’d rescued from her prison in the Burning Maze. “Perhaps this god isn’t a willing participant. He might have been trapped, or…I don’t know, coerced somehow.”

“So we free him by killing him?” Frank asked. “Gotta agree with Reyna. That sounds harsh.”

“One way to find out,” Meg said. “We go to this Sutro place. Can I feed your dogs?”

Without waiting for permission, she grabbed the jelly bean jar and popped it open.

Aurum and Argentum, having heard the magic words feed and dogs, did not growl or tear Meg apart. They got up, moved to her side, and sat watching her, their jeweled eyes sending the message Please, please, please.

Meg doled out a jelly bean for each dog, then ate two herself. Two for the dogs, two for herself. Meg had achieved a major diplomatic breakthrough.

“Meg’s right. Sutro is the place Tarquin’s minion mentioned,” I recalled. “Presumably we’ll find the soundless god there.”

“Mount Sutro?” Reyna asked. “Or Sutro Tower? Did he say which?”

Frank raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it the same place? I always just call that area Sutro Hill.”

“Actually, the biggest hill is Mount Sutro,” said Reyna. “The giant antenna is on a different hill right next to it. That’s Sutro Tower. I only know this because Aurum and Argentum like to go hiking over there.”