The Tower of Nero

my archnemesis, and winner of Olympus Magazine’s Least Popular Serpent award for four thousand years running.
“That sounds like a terrible way in,” I noted.
“It is not wonderful,” Lu agreed.
“But we can use it to sneak in,” Meg guessed. “Surprise Nero?”
Lu snorted. “Nothing so easy, Sapling. The way is secret, but it is still heavily guarded and under constant surveillance. If you tried to sneak in, you would be caught.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m still not hearing anything resembling a plan.”
Lu took a moment to gather her patience. I was familiar with this look. I got it often from Meg, and my sister Artemis, and…well, everyone, actually.
“The way is not for you,” she said. “But it could be used to sneak in a small squad of demigods, if any were brave enough and sufficiently skilled at navigating underground.”
Son of Hades, I thought, the amphisbaena’s words echoing in my head, cavern-runners’ friend, / Must show the secret way unto the throne.
The only thing more unsettling than not understanding a prophecy was beginning to understand it.
“Then they would just get captured,” I said.
“Not necessarily,” Lu said. “Not if Nero were sufficiently distracted.”
I had a feeling I was not going to like the answer to my next question. “Distracted by what?”
“Your surrender,” Lu said.
I waited. Lu did not seem the type for practical jokes, but this would have been a good moment for her to laugh and yell NOT!
“You can’t be serious,” I said.
“I’m with Apollo,” Sally said. “If Nero wants to kill him, why would he—?”
“It’s the only way.” Lu took a deep breath. “Listen, I know how Nero thinks. When I return to him and tell him you two got away, he will issue an ultimatum.”
Paul frowned. “To whom?”
“Camp Half-Blood,” Lu said. “Any demigods, any allies anywhere who are harboring Apollo. Nero’s terms will be simple: Apollo and Meg surrender themselves within a certain amount of time, or Nero destroys New York.”
I wanted to laugh. It seemed impossible, ridiculous. Then I remembered Caligula’s yachts in San Francisco Bay, launching a barrage of Greek-fire projectiles that would have destroyed the entire East Bay if Lavinia Asimov hadn’t sabotaged them. Nero would have at least as many resources at his disposal, and Manhattan was a much more densely populated target.
Would he burn his own city, with his own palatial tower in the middle of it?
Dumb question, Apollo. Nero had done it before. Just ask ancient Rome.
“So you rescued us,” I said, “just to tell us we should surrender to Nero. That’s your plan.”
“Nero must believe he has already won,” Lu said. “Once he has you two in his grasp, he will relax his guard. This may give your demigod team a chance to infiltrate the tower from below.”
“May,” I echoed.
“The timing will be tricky,” Lu admitted, “but Nero will keep you alive for a while, Apollo. He and the reptile…They have plans for you.”
A distant thunderclap shook my chair. Either that, or I was trembling. I could imagine what sort of plans Nero and Python might have for me. None of them included a nice lasagna dinner.
“And, Sapling,” Lu continued, “I know it will be hard for you, going back to that place, but I will be there to protect you, as I’ve done many times before. I will be your inside woman. When your friends invade, I can free you both. Then, together, we can take down the emperor.”
Why did Meg look so pensive, as if she were actually considering this insane strategy?
“Just a minute,” I protested. “Even if we trust you, why would Nero? You say you’ll go back to him with your tail between your legs and report that we got away. Why would he believe that? Why won’t he suspect you’ve turned on him?”
“I have a plan for that, too,” Lu said. “It involves you pushing me off a building.”

I’D HEARD WORSE PLANS.
But while the idea of pushing Lu off a building had a certain appeal, I was skeptical that she really meant it, especially since she wouldn’t explain further or offer us details.
“Tomorrow,” she insisted. “Once we’re on our way.”
The next morning, Sally made us breakfast. Estelle giggled at us hysterically. Paul apologized for not having a car to lend us, since the family Prius, which we usually crashed, was on its way to California with Percy, Grover, and Annabeth. The best Paul could offer us was a subway pass, but I wasn’t ready to ride any more trains.
Sally gave us all hugs and wished us well. Then she said she had to get back to baking cookies, which she did to relieve stress while she was working on the revisions for her second novel.
This raised many questions for me. Second novel? We hadn’t discussed her writing at all the night before. Cookies? Could we wait until they were done?
But I suspected that good food was a never-ending temptation here at the Jackson/Blofis home. There would always be a next sweet or savory snack that was more appealing than facing the harsh world.
Also, I respected the fact that Sally needed to work. As the god of poetry, I understood revisions. Facing monsters and imperial mercenaries was much easier.
At least the rain had stopped, leaving us a steamy June morning. Lu, Meg, and I headed toward the East River on foot, ducking from alley to alley until Lu found a location that seemed to satisfy her.
Just off First Avenue, a ten-story apartment building was in the process of a gut renovation. Its brick facade was a hollow shell, its windows empty frames. We sneaked through the alley behind the lot, climbed over a chain-link construction fence, and found the back entrance blocked only by a sheet of plywood. Lu broke through it with one sturdy kick.
“After you,” she said.
I eyed the dark doorway. “We really have to go through with this?”
“I’m the one who has to fall off the roof,” she muttered. “Stop complaining.”
The building’s interior was reinforced with metal scaffolding—rung ladders leading from one level to