The Burning Maze (The Trials of Apollo #3)(65)

‘This place is private,’ he announced. ‘Talk.’

‘First,’ I said, ‘I must know why you’re not followers of Apollo. Such great archers? The finest hearing in the world? Eight fingers on each hand? You would be natural musicians! We seem made for each other!’

Amax studied me. ‘You are the former god, eh? They told us about you.’

‘I am Apollo,’ I confirmed. ‘It’s not too late to pledge me your loyalty.’

Amax’s mouth quivered. I hoped he was on the verge of crying, perhaps throwing himself at my feet and begging my forgiveness.

Instead, he howled with laughter. ‘What do we need with Olympian gods? Especially gods who are pimply boys with no power?’

‘But there’s so much I could teach you!’ I insisted. ‘Music! Poetry! I could teach you how to write haikus!’

Jason looked at me and shook his head vigorously, though I had no idea why.

‘Music and poetry hurt our ears,’ Amax complained. ‘We have no need of them!’

‘I like music,’ Crest murmured, flexing his fingers. ‘I can play a little –’

‘Silence!’ Amax yelled. ‘You can play silence for once, worthless nephew!’

Aha, I thought. Even among the pandai there were frustrated musicians. Amax suddenly reminded me of my father, Zeus, when he came storming down the hallway on Mount Olympus (literally storming, with thunder, lightning and torrential rain) and ordered me to stop playing my infernal zither music. A totally unfair demand. Everyone knows 2:00 a.m. is the optimal time to practise the zither.

I might have been able to sway Crest to our side … if only I’d had more time. And if he weren’t in the company of three older and larger pandai. And if we hadn’t started our acquaintance with Piper shooting him in the leg with a poisoned dart.

Amax reclined in his cushy purple throne. ‘We pandai are mercenaries. We choose our masters. Why would we pick a washed-up god like you? Once, we served the kings of India! Now we serve Caligula!’

‘Caligula! Caligula!’ Timbre and Peak cried. Again, Crest was conspicuously quiet, frowning at his bow.

‘The emperor trusts only us!’ Timbre bragged.

‘Yes,’ Peak agreed. ‘Unlike those Germani, we never stabbed him to death!’

I wanted to point out that this was a fairly low bar for loyalty, but Meg interrupted.

‘The night is young,’ she said. ‘We could all stab him together.’

Amax sneered. ‘I am still waiting, daughter of Nero, to hear your juicy story about why you wish to kill our master. You’d better have good information. And lots of twists and turns! Convince me you are worth bringing to Caesar alive, rather than as dead bodies, and perhaps I’ll get a promotion tonight! I will not be passed over again for some idiot like Overdrive on boat three, or Wah-Wah on boat forty-three.’

‘Wah-Wah?’ Piper made a sound between a hiccup and a giggle, which may have been the effect of her bashed head. ‘Are you guys all named after guitar pedals? My dad has a collection of those. Well … he had a collection.’

Amax scowled. ‘Guitar pedals? I don’t know what that means! If you are making fun of our culture –’

‘Hey,’ Meg said. ‘You wanna hear my story or not?’

We all turned to her.

‘Um, Meg …?’ I asked. ‘Are you sure?’

The pandai no doubt picked up on my nervous tone, but I couldn’t help it. First of all, I had no idea what Meg could possibly say that would increase our chances of survival. Second, knowing Meg, she would say it in ten words or less. Then we’d all be dead.

‘I got twists and turns.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘But are you sure we’re alone, Mr Amax? No one else is listening?’

‘Of course not!’ said Amax. ‘This ship is my base. That glass is fully soundproofed.’ He gestured dismissively at the ship in front of us. ‘Vector won’t hear a word!’

‘What about Wah-Wah?’ Meg asked. ‘I know he’s on boat forty-three with the emperor, but if his spies are nearby –’

‘Ridiculous!’ Amax said. ‘The emperor isn’t on boat forty-three!’

Timbre and Peak snickered.

‘Boat forty-three is the emperor’s footwear boat, silly girl,’ said Peak. ‘An important assignment, yes, but not the throne-room boat.’

‘Right,’ Timbre said. ‘That’s Reverb’s boat, number twelve –’

‘Silence!’ Amax snapped. ‘Enough delays, girl. Tell me what you know, or die.’

‘Okay,’ Meg leaned forward as if to impart a secret. ‘Twists and turns.’

Her hands shot forward, suddenly and inexplicably free of the zip tie. Her rings flashed as she threw them, turning into scimitars as they hurtled towards Amax and Peak.





27


I can kill you all

Or I can sing you Joe Walsh

Really, it’s your choice





The children of Demeter are all about flowers. Amber waves of grain. Feeding the world and nurturing life.

They also excel at planting scimitars in the chests of their enemies.

Meg’s Imperial gold blades found their targets. One hit Amax with such force he exploded in a cloud of yellow dust. The other cut through Peak’s bow, embedding itself in his sternum and causing him to disintegrate inward like sand through an hourglass.