Commodus gave me a ghastly smile. His eyes glittered with hatred.
I don’t know where I found the strength, but I charged and tackled him. We hit the asphalt, my legs straddling his chest, my hands wrapped around his throat as they had been thousands of years before, the first time I killed him. This time, I felt no bittersweet regret, no lingering sense of love. Commodus fought, but his fists were like paper. I let loose a guttural roar—a song with only one note: pure rage, and only one volume: maximum.
Under the onslaught of sound, Commodus crumbled to ash.
My voice faltered. I stared at my empty palms. I stood and backed away, horrified. The charred outline of the emperor’s body remained on the asphalt. I could still feel the pulse of his carotid arteries under my fingers. What had I done? In my thousands of years of life, I’d never destroyed someone with my voice. When I sang, people would often say I “killed it,” but they never meant that literally.
The emperors’ troops stared at me in astonishment. Given another moment, they surely would have attacked, but their attention was diverted by a flare gun going off nearby. A tennis-ball-size globe of orange fire arced into the sky, trailing Tang-colored smoke.
The troops turned toward the bay, waiting for the fireworks show that would destroy Camp Jupiter. I’ll admit—as tired and helpless and emotionally shattered as I was, all I could do was watch, too.
On fifty aft decks, green dots flickered as the Greek fire charges were uncovered in their mortars. I imagined pandos technicians scrambling about, inputting their final coordinates.
PLEASE, ARTEMIS, I prayed. NOW WOULD BE A GREAT TIME TO SHOW UP.
The weapons fired. Fifty green fireballs rose into the sky, like emeralds on a floating necklace, illuminating the entire bay. They rose straight upward, struggling to gain altitude.
My fear turned to confusion. I knew a few things about flying. You couldn’t take off at a ninety-degree angle. If I tried that in the sun chariot…well, first of all, I would’ve fallen off and looked really stupid. But also, the horses could never have made such a steep climb. They would have toppled into each other and crashed back into the gates of the Sun Palace. You’d have an eastern sunrise, followed immediately by an eastern sunset and lots of angry whinnying.
Why would the mortars be aimed like that?
The green fireballs climbed another fifty feet. A hundred feet. Slowed. On Highway 24, the entire enemy army mimicked their movements, standing up straighter and straighter as the projectiles rose, until all the Germani, Khromandae, and other assorted baddies were on their tippy-toes, poised as if levitating. The fireballs stopped and hovered in midair.
Then the emeralds fell straight down, right onto the yachts from which they had come.
The display of mayhem was worthy of the emperors themselves. Fifty yachts exploded in green mushroom clouds, sending confetti of shattered wood, metal, and tiny little flaming monster bodies into the air. Caligula’s multi-billion-dollar fleet was reduced to a string of burning oil slicks on the surface of the bay.
I may have laughed. I know that was quite insensitive, considering the environmental impact of the disaster. Also terribly inappropriate, given how heartbroken I felt about Frank. But I couldn’t help it.
The enemy troops turned as one to stare at me.
Oh, right, I reminded myself. I am still facing hundreds of hostiles.
But they didn’t look very hostile. Their expressions were stunned and unsure.
I had destroyed Commodus with a shout. I had helped burn Caligula to cinders. Despite my humble appearance, the troops had probably heard rumors that I was once a god. Was it possible, they’d be wondering, that I had somehow caused the fleet’s destruction?
In point of fact, I had no idea what had gone wrong with the fleet’s weapons. I doubted it was Artemis. It just didn’t feel like something she would do. As for Lavinia…I didn’t see how she could’ve pulled off a trick like that with just some fauns, a few dryads, and some chewing gum.
I knew it wasn’t me.
But the army didn’t know that.
I cobbled together the last shreds of my courage. I channeled my old sense of arrogance, from back in the days when I loved to take credit for things I didn’t do (as long as they were good and impressive). I gave Gregorix and his army a cruel, emperor-like smile.
“BOO!” I shouted.
The troops broke and ran. They scattered down the highway