The Tower of Nero (The Trials of Apollo #5) - Rick Riordan Page 0,38

chat about our least-favorite emperor.”

WE CIRCLED UP OUR BEANBAGS.

Rachel spread blueprints across the floor between us. “You guys know about the emperor’s fasces?”

Meg and I shared a look that meant I wish we didn’t.

“We’re familiar,” I said. “In San Francisco, we destroyed the fasces of Commodus and Caligula, which made them vulnerable enough to kill. I assume you’re suggesting we do the same with Nero?”

Rachel pouted. “That killed my big reveal. It took me a long time to figure this out.”

“You did great,” Meg assured her. “Apollo just likes to hear himself talk.”

“I beg your pardon—”

“Did you find the exact location of Nero’s fasces?” Nico interrupted. “Because that would be really useful.”

Rachel straightened a bit. “I think so, yeah. These are the original designs for Nero’s tower. They were not easy to get.”

Will whistled appreciatively. “I bet many Bothans died to bring us this information.”

Rachel stared at him. “What?”

Nico sighed. “I’m guessing that was a Star Wars reference. My boyfriend is a Star Wars geek of the worst kind.”

“Okay, Signor Myth-o-magic. If you would just watch the original trilogy…” Will looked at the rest of us for support and found nothing but blank expressions. “Nobody? Oh, my gods. You people are hopeless.”

“Anyway,” Rachel continued, “my theory is that Nero would keep his fasces here.” She tapped a point about halfway up the tower’s cross-section schematic. “Right in the middle of the building. It’s the only level with no exterior windows. Special-elevator access only. All doors are Celestial-bronze–reinforced. I mean, the whole building is a fortress, but this level would be impossible to break into.”

Meg nodded. “I know the floor you mean. We were never allowed in there. Ever.”

A chill settled over our little group. Goose bumps dotted Will’s arms. The idea of Meg, our Meg, stuck in that fortress of evil was more disturbing than any number of mysterious cows or penguins.

Rachel flipped to another blueprint—a floor plan of the ultra-secure level. “Here. This vault has to be it. You could never get close, unless…” She pointed to a nearby room. “If I’m reading these designs correctly, this would be a holding cell for prisoners.” Her eyes were bright with excitement. “If you could get yourself captured, then convince someone on the inside to help you escape—”

“Lu was right.” Meg looked at me triumphantly. “I told you.”

Rachel frowned, bringing the blue paint spots on her forehead into a tighter cluster. “Who is Lu?”

We told her about Luguselwa, and the special bonding time we’d shared before I threw her off a building.

Rachel shook her head. “Okay…so if you’ve already thought of all my ideas, why am I even talking?”

“No, no,” Will said. “You’re confirming. And we trust you more than…er, other sources.”

I hoped he meant Lu and not me.

“Besides,” Nico said, “you have actual blueprints.” He studied the floor plan. “Why would Nero keep his prisoners on the same level as his most valuable possession, though?”

“Keep your fasces close,” I speculated, “and your enemies closer.”

“Maybe,” Rachel said. “But the fasces is heavily protected, and not just by security features or regular guards. There’s something in that vault, something alive.…”

It was my turn to get goose bumps. “How do you know this?”

“A vision. Just a glimpse, almost like…like Python wanted me to see it. The figure looked like a man, but his head—”

“A lion’s head,” I guessed.

Rachel flinched. “Exactly. And slithering around his body—”

“Snakes.”

“So you know what it is?”

I grasped for the memory. As usual, it was just out of reach. You may wonder why I didn’t have a better handle on my godly knowledge, but my mortal brain was an imperfect storage facility. I can only compare my frustration to how you might feel when taking a picky reading-comprehension quiz. You are assigned fifty pages. You actually read them. Then the teacher decides to test you by asking, Quick! What was the first word on page thirty-seven?

“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “Some sort of powerful guardian, obviously. Our most recent prophecy stanza mentioned a lion, snake-entwined.” I filled Rachel in on our literally eye-popping ride with the Gray Sisters.

Nico scowled at the blueprints, as if he might intimidate them into giving up their secrets. “So, whatever the guardian is, Nero trusts it with his life. Meg, I thought you said Luguselwa was this huge, mighty warrior?”

“She is.”

“So why can’t she take out this guardian and destroy the fasces herself?” he asked. “Why does she need…you know, you guys to get yourself captured?”

Nico phrased the question diplomatically, but I heard what he