especially now. Tarquin must know we’ll try to locate the hiding place.”
“And we have to do so on April eighth,” said Reyna. “The day of greatest need.”
Frank grunted. “Good thing we don’t have anything else scheduled that day. Like getting invaded on two fronts, for instance.”
“My gods, Meg,” Reyna said, “you’re going to make yourself sick. I’ll never get all the sugar out of Aurum and Argentum’s gear works.”
“Fine.” Meg put the jelly bean jar back on the table, but not before grabbing one last fistful for herself and her canine accomplices. “So we have to wait until the day after tomorrow? What’ll we do until then?”
“Oh, we’ve got plenty to do,” Frank promised. “Planning. Constructing defenses. War games all day tomorrow. We have to run the legion through every possible scenario. Besides…”
His voice faltered, as if he’d realized he was about to say something aloud that was best left in his head. His hand drifted toward the pouch where he held his firewood.
I wondered if he’d taken any additional notes from Ella and Tyson—perhaps more harpy ramblings about bridges, fires, and something, something, something. If so, Frank apparently didn’t want to share.
“Besides,” he started over, “you guys should rest up for the quest. You’ll have to leave for Sutro early on Lester’s birthday.”
“Can we please not call it that?” I pleaded.
“Also, who is ‘you guys’?” Reyna asked. “We may need another senate vote to decide who goes on the quest.”
“Nah,” Frank said. “I mean, we can check with the senators, but this is clearly an extension of the original mission, right? Besides, when we’re at war, you and I have full executive power.”
Reyna regarded her colleague. “Why, Frank Zhang. You’ve been studying the praetors’ handbook.”
“Maybe a little.” Frank cleared his throat. “Anyway, we know who needs to go: Apollo, Meg, and you. The doorway to the soundless god has to be opened by Bellona’s daughter, right?”
“But…” Reyna looked back and forth between us. “I can’t just leave on the day of a major battle. Bellona’s power is all about strength in numbers. I need to lead the troops.”
“And you will,” Frank promised. “As soon as you get back from San Francisco. In the meantime, I’ll hold down the fort. I’ve got this.”
Reyna hesitated, but I thought I detected a gleam in her eye. “Are you sure, Frank? I mean, yeah, of course you can do it. I know you can, but—”
“I’ll be fine.” Frank smiled like he meant it. “Apollo and Meg need you on this quest. Go.”
Why did Reyna look so excited? How crushing her work must have been, if, after carrying the burden of leadership for so long, she was looking forward to going on an adventure across the bay to kill a god.
“I suppose,” she said with obviously feigned reluctance.
“It’s settled, then.” Frank turned to Meg and me. “You guys rest up. Big day tomorrow. We’ll need your help with the war games. I’ve got a special job in mind for each of you.”
Hamster ball of death
Spare me your fiery doom
I’m not feeling it
OH, BOY, A SPECIAL job!
The anticipation was killing me. Or maybe that was the poison in my veins.
As soon as I returned to the coffee shop’s attic, I crashed on my cot.
Meg huffed, “It’s still light outside. You slept all day.”
“Not turning into a zombie is hard work.”
“I know!” she snapped. “I’m sorry!”
I looked up, surprised by her tone. Meg kicked an old paper latte cup across the room. She plopped onto her cot and glared at the floor.
“Meg?”
In her flower box, irises grew with such speed that their flowers crackled open like corn kernels. Just a few minutes ago, Meg had been happily insulting me and gorging on jelly beans. Now…Was she crying?
“Meg.” I sat up, trying not to wince. “Meg, you’re not responsible for me getting hurt.”
She twisted the ring on her right hand, then the one on her left, as if they’d become too small for her fingers. “I just thought…if I could kill him…” She wiped her nose. “Like in some stories. You kill the master, and you can free the people he’s turned.”
It took a moment for her words to sink in. I was pretty sure the dynamic she was describing applied to vampires, not zombies, but I understood what she meant.
“You’re talking about Tarquin,” I said. “You jumped into the throne room because…you wanted to save me?”
“Duh,” she muttered, without any heat.
I put my hand over my bandaged abdomen. I’d been so angry with Meg for her