Untitled Part 24
LU WAS RIGHT.
I hated her plan, but since time was short and Gunther might show up any minute with our party hats and various torture devices, I agreed to do my part.
Full disclosure: I also hated my plan. I explained to Lu what the leontocephaline would demand in exchange for the fasces.
Lu glowered like an angry water buffalo. 'You're sure?'
'I'm afraid so. He guards immortality, so –'
'He expects a sacrifice of immortality.'
The words hung in the air like cigar smoke – cloying and suffocating. This was what all my trials had led to – this choice. This was why Python had been laughing at me for months in my dreams. Nero had made the cost of his destruction giving up the one thing I wanted most. To destroy him, I'd have to forfeit my own godhood forever.
Lu scratched her chin with her fork hand. 'We must help Meg, whatever the cost.'
'Agreed.'
She nodded grimly. 'Okay, then that's what we'll do.'
I swallowed the coppery taste in my mouth. I was ready to pay the price. If it meant freeing Meg from the Beast, freeing the world, freeing Delphi ... then I would. But it would've been nice if Lu had protested just a little on my behalf. Oh, no, Apollo! You can't!
I suppose our relationship was past the point of sugarcoating, though. Lu was too practical for that. She was the sort of woman who didn't whine about getting her hands cut off. She just taped silverware to her stumps and got on with business. She wasn't going to give me a pat on the back for doing the right thing, however painful it was.
Still ... I wondered if I was missing something. I wondered if we were really on the same page. Lu had a faraway look in her eyes, like she was calculating losses on a battlefield.
Maybe what I sensed was her worry about Meg.
We both knew that, under most circumstances, Meg was fully capable of rescuing herself. But with Nero ... I suspected Lu, like me, wanted Meg to be strong enough to save herself. We couldn't make the hard choices for her. Yet it was excruciating to stand by while Meg's sense of independence was tested. Lu and I were like nervous parents leaving our child at school for the first day of kindergarten ... except in this case the kindergarten teacher was a homicidal megalomaniac emperor. Call us crazy, but we didn't trust what Meg might learn in that classroom.
Lu met my eyes one last time. I imagined her packing away her doubts and fears in her mental saddlebags for later, when she had time for them, along with her cucumber-and-cream-cheese sandwiches.
'Let's get to work,' she told me.
It wasn't long before we heard the hallway door bang open and heavy footsteps approaching the cell.
'Look casual,' Lu ordered, reclining on her couch.
I leaned against the wall and whistled the tune to 'Maneater'. Gunther appeared, a batch of neon-yellow ziptie restraints in his hand.
I pointed a finger gun at him. 'Hey, what's up?'
He scowled. Then he looked at Lu with her new silverware attachments, and his face split into a grin. 'What are you supposed to be? HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!'
Lu raised her fork and knife. 'Thought I'd carve you up like the turkey you are.'
Gunther started to giggle, which was disturbing in a man of his size. 'Stupid Lu. You have fork-and-knife hands ... HAHA-HA-HA-HA!' He tossed the zip-ties through the cell's bars. 'You, ugly boy, tie her arms behind her back. Then I tie you.'
'No,' I said. 'I don't think so.'
His mirth dissipated like foam on skink soup. 'What you say?'
'You want to tie us up,' I said very slowly, 'you'll have to do it yourself.'
He frowned, trying to make sense of the fact that a teenaged boy was telling him what to do. Clearly, he'd never had children.
'I will call other guards.'
Lu snorted. 'You do that. Can't handle us yourself. I'm too dangerous.' She held up her knife hand in what could have been taken as a rude gesture.
Gunther's face turned a mottled red. 'You're not the boss of me no more, Luguselwa.'
'Not the boss of me ,' Lu mimicked. 'Go on, get help. Tell them you couldn't tie up a weakling boy and a no-handed woman by yourself. Or come in here, and I will tie you up.'
Her plan depended on Gunther taking the bait. He needed to come inside. With his barbarian manhood in question, and his honour insulted by a rude piece of silverware, he did not disappoint. The middle bars of the cell retracted into the floor. Gunther strode through. He didn't notice the salve I'd slathered across the threshold – and let me assure you, Will Solace's burn ointment is slippery stuff.
I'd been wondering which direction Gunther might fall. Turns out, backwards. His heel shot out from under him, his legs crumpled, and his head slammed hard against the marble floor, leaving him flat on his back and groaning halfway inside the cell.
'Now!' Lu yelled.
I charged the door.
Lu had told me that the cell bars were motion sensitive. They snapped upward, determined to stop my escape, but they had not been designed to compensate for the weight of a Germanus lying across the threshold.
The bars smashed Gunther against the ceiling like a hyperactive forklift, then lowered him again, their hidden mechanisms whirring and creaking in protest. Gunther gurgled in pain. His eyes crossed. His armor was thoroughly crushed. His ribs probably weren't in much better shape, but at least the bars hadn't gone straight through him. I did not want to witness that kind of mess, nor step through it.
'Get his sword,' Lu ordered.
I did. Then, using Gunther's body as a bridge across the slippery salve, we escaped into the hall, the eye of the security camera watching as we fled.
'Here.' Lu gestured to what appeared to be a closet door.
I kicked it in, realizing only afterwards that 1) I had no idea why, and 2) I trusted Lu enough not to ask.
Inside were shelves stacked with personal possessions – packs, clothes, weapons, shields. I wondered what unfortunate prisoners they had once belonged to. Leaning against a back corner were my bow and quivers.
'Aha!' I grabbed them. With amazement, I drew the Arrow of Dodona from my otherwise empty quivers. 'Thank the gods. How are you still here?'
THOU ART PLEASED TO SEE ME, the arrow noted.
'Well, I thought the emperor would have taken you. Or turned you into kindling!'
NERO IS NOT WORTH A FIG, said the arrow. HE SEES NOT MY BRILLIANCE.
Somewhere down the hall, an alarm began to blare. The overhead lighting changed from white to red.
'Could you talk with your projectile later?' Lu suggested. 'We have to move!'
'Right,' I said. 'Which way to the fasces?'
'Left,' Lu said. 'So you go right.'
'Wait, what? You said it's left.'
'Right.'
'Right?'
ODS BODKINS! The arrow vibrated in my hand. JUST LISTEN TO THE GAUL!
'I'm going after the fasces,' Lu explained. 'You're going to find Meg.'
'But ...' My head spun. Was this a trick? Hadn't we agreed? I was ready for my close-up, my big heroic sacrifice. 'The leontocephaline demands immortality for immortality. I have to –'
'I've got it covered,' Lu said. 'Don't worry. Besides, we Celts lost most of our gods long ago. I'm not going to stand by while another deity dies.'
'But you're not –'
I stopped myself. I was about to say immortal . Then I considered how many centuries Lu had been alive. Would the leontocephaline accept her life as payment?
My eyes filled with tears. 'No,' I said. 'Meg can't lose you.'
Lu snorted. 'I won't get myself killed if I can help it. I have a plan, but you need to move. Meg is in danger. Her room is six floors up. Southeast corner. Follow the stairs at the end of the hall.'
I started to protest, but the Arrow of Dodona buzzed in warning. I needed to trust Lu. I needed to cede the battle to the better warrior.
'Fine,' I relented. 'Can I at least tape a sword to your arm?'
'No time,' she said. 'Too unwieldy. Wait, actually. That dagger over there. Unsheathe it and put the blade between my teeth.'
'How will that help?'
'Probably won't,' she admitted. 'But it'll look cool.'
I did as she asked.
Now she stood before me as LuBeard the Pirate, cutlerywielding terror of the Seven Seas. 'Ood ruhk,' she mumbled around the blade. Then she turned and raced away.
'What just happened?' I asked.
THOU HAST MADE A FRIEND, the arrow said. NOW REFILLEST THY QUIVERS SO THOU SHALT NOT SHOOT WITH ME.
'Right.' With shaky hands, I scavenged as many intact arrows as I could find in the prisoners' storeroom and added them to my arsenal. Alarms kept blaring. The bloodred light was not helping my anxiety level.
I started down the hall. I'd barely made it halfway when the Arrow of Dodona buzzed, LOOK OUT!
A mortal security guard in tactical riot gear rounded the corner, barrelling towards me with his handgun raised. Not being well prepared, I screamed and threw Gunther's sword at him. By some miracle, the hilt hit him in the face and knocked him down.
THAT IS NOT NORMALLY HOW ONE USETH A SWORD, the arrow said.
'Always a critic,' I grumbled.
MEG IS IN PERIL, he said.
'Meg is in peril,' I agreed. I stepped over the mortal guard, now curled on the floor and groaning. 'Terribly sorry.' I kicked him in the face. He stopped moving and began to snore. I ran on.
I burst into the stairwell and took the concrete steps two at a time. The Arrow of Dodona remained clutched in my hand. I probably should have put it away and readied my bow with normal missiles, but to my surprise I found that its running Shakespearean commentary boosted my shaky morale.
From the floor above me, two Germani rushed into the stairwell and charged me with spears levelled.
Now lacking even Gunther's sword, I thrust out my free hand, shut my eyes and screamed as if this would make them go away, or at least make my death less painful.
My fingers burned. Flames roared. The two Germani yelled in terror, then were silent.
When I opened my eyes, my hand was smoking but unharmed. Flames licked at the peeling paint on the walls. On the steps above me were two piles of ash where the Germani had been.
THOU SHOULDST DO THAT MORE OFTEN, the arrow advised.
The idea made me sick to my stomach. Once, I would have been delighted to summon the power to blowtorch my enemies. But now, after knowing Lu, I wondered how many of these Germani really wanted to serve Nero, and how many had been conscripted into his service with no choice. Enough people had died. My grudge was with only one person, Nero, and one reptile, Python.
HURRY, the arrow said with new urgency. I SENSE ... YES. NERO HAS SENT GUARDS TO FETCH MEG.
I wasn't sure how it had gleaned this information – if it was monitoring the building's security system or eavesdropping on Nero's personal psychic hotline – but the news made me clench my teeth.
'There will be no Meg-fetching on my watch,' I growled.
I slid the Arrow of Dodona into one of my quivers and drew a missile of the non-Shakespearean variety.
I bounded up the stairs.
I worried about Luguselwa, who must have been facing the leontocephaline by now. I worried about Nico, Will and Rachel, whom I hadn't seen any sign of in my dreams. I worried about the forces of Camp Half-Blood, who might be charging into a suicidal rescue mission at this very moment. Most of all, I worried about Meg.
To find her, I would fight the entire tower by myself if I had to.
I reached the next landing. Had Lu said five floors up? Six? How many had I already climbed? Argh, I hated numbers!
I shouldered my way into another bland white corridor and ran in the direction I thought might be southeast.
I kicked open a door and discovered (try not to be too shocked) that I was in the entirely wrong place. A large control room glowed with dozens of monitors. Many showed live feeds of huge metal reservoirs – the emperor's Greek-fire vats. Mortal technicians turned and gawked at me. Germani looked up and frowned. A Germanus who must have been the commander, judging from the quality of his armour and the number of shiny beads in his beard, scowled at me with disdain.
'You heard the emperor's order,' he snarled at the technicians. 'Light those fires NOW. And, guards, kill this fool.'
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