The Tower of Nero

the next. Oh, good. After climbing Sutro Tower, I just loved the idea of more ladders. Rays of sunlight sliced through the structure’s hollow interior, swirling up dust clouds and miniature rainbows. Above us, the roof was still intact. From the topmost tier of scaffolding, a final ladder led up to a landing with a metal door.
Lu began to climb. She had changed back into her Amtrak disguise so she wouldn’t have to explain the Electronics Mega-Mart shirt to Nero. I followed in my Percy Jackson hand-me-downs. My funny valentine, Meg, brought up the rear. Just like old times at Sutro Tower, except with 100 percent less Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano and 100 percent more tattooed Gaul.
On each level, Meg stopped to sneeze and wipe her nose. Lu did her best to stay away from the windows, as if worried that Nero might burst through one and yell, Boare!
(I’m pretty sure that was Latin for boo! It’s been a while since I attended one of Cicero’s famous haunted-house parties. That man did love to put a toga over his head and scare his guests.)
Finally, we reached the metal door, which had been spray-painted with a red-stenciled warning, ROOF ACCESS RESTRICTED. I was sweaty and out of breath. Lu seemed unperturbed by the climb. Meg kicked absently at the nearest brick as if wondering whether she could collapse the building.
“Here’s the plan,” Lu said. “I know for a fact Nero has cameras in the office building across the street. It’s one of his properties. When we burst out this door, his surveillance team should get some good footage of us on the roof.”
“Remind us why that’s a good thing?” I asked.
Lu muttered something under her breath, perhaps a prayer for her Celtic gods to smack me upside the head. “Because we’re going to let Nero see what we want him to see. We’re going to put on a show.”
Meg nodded. “Like on the train.”
“Exactly,” Lu said. “You two run out first. I’ll follow a few steps behind, like I’ve finally cornered you and am ready to kill you.”
“In a strictly playacting way,” I hoped.
“It has to look real,” Lu said.
“We can do it.” Meg turned to me with a look of pride. “You saw us on the train, Lester, and that was with no planning. When I lived at the tower? Lu would help me fake these incredible battles so Father—Nero, I mean—would think I killed my opponents.”
I stared at her. “Kill. Your opponents.”
“Like servants, or prisoners, or just people he didn’t like. Lu and I would work it out beforehand. I’d pretend to kill them. Fake blood and everything. Then after, Lu would drag them out of the arena and let them go. The deaths looked so real, Nero never caught on.”
I couldn’t decide what I found most horrifying: Meg’s uncomfortable slip calling Nero Father, or the fact that Nero had expected his young stepdaughter to execute prisoners for his amusement, or the fact that Lu had conspired to make the show nonlethal to spare Meg’s feelings rather than—oh, I don’t know—refusing to do Nero’s dirty work in the first place and getting Meg out of that house of horrors.
And are you any better? taunted a small voice in my brain. How many times have you stood up to Zeus?
Okay, small voice. Fair point. Tyrants are not easy to oppose or walk away from, especially when you depend on them for everything.
I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth. “What’s my role?”
“Meg and I will do most of the fighting.” Lu hefted her crossbow. “Apollo, you stumble around and cower in fear.”
“I can do that.”
“Then, when it looks like I’m about to kill Meg, you scream and charge me. You have bursts of godly strength from time to time, I’ve heard.”
“I can’t summon one on command!”
“You don’t have to. Pretend. Push me as hard as you can—right off the roof. I’ll let you do it.”
I looked over the scaffold railing. “We’re ten stories up. I know this because…we’re ten stories up.”
“Yes,” Lu agreed. “Should be about right. I don’t die easily, little Lester. I’ll break some bones, no doubt, but with luck, I’ll survive.”
“With luck?” Meg suddenly didn’t sound so confident.
Lu summoned a scimitar into her free hand. “We have to risk it, Sapling. Nero has to believe I did my very best to catch you. If he suspects something…Well, we can’t have that.” She faced me. “Ready?”
“No!” I said. “You still haven’t explained how Nero intends to burn down the city, or what we’re supposed to do once we get captured.”
Lu’s fiery look was quite convincing. I actually believed she wanted to kill me. “He has Greek fire. More than Caligula did. More than anyone else has ever dared to stockpile. He has some delivery system in place. I don’t know the details. But as soon as he suspects something is wrong, one push of a button and it’s all over. That’s why we have to go through this elaborate charade. We have to get you inside without him realizing it’s a trick.”
I was trembling again. I stared down at the concrete floor and imagined it disintegrating, dropping into a sea of green flame. “So what happens when we’re captured?”
“The holding cells,” Lu said. “They’re very close to the vault where Nero keeps his fasces.”
My spirits rose at least a millimeter. This wasn’t good news, exactly, but at least Lu’s plan now seemed a little less insane. The emperor’s fasces, the golden ax that symbolized his power, would be connected to Nero’s life force. In San Francisco, we’d destroyed the fasces of Commodus and Caligula and weakened the emperors just enough to kill them. If we could do the same to Nero…
“So you break us out of our cells,” I guessed, “and lead us to this vault.”
“That’s the idea.” Lu’s expression turned grim. “Of course, the fasces is guarded by…well, something terrible.”
“What?” Meg asked.
Lu’s hesitation scared me worse than any monster she might have named. “Let’s deal with that later.