The Tyrant's Tomb
Reyna regarded her colleague. “Why, Frank Zhang. You’ve beenstudying the praetors’ handbook.”“Maybe a little.” Frank cleared his throat. “Anyway, we know who needsto go: Apollo, Meg, and you. The doorway to the soundless god has to beopened by Bellona’s daughter, right?”“But…” Reyna looked back and forth between us. “I can’t just leave onthe day of a major battle. Bellona’s power is all about strength in numbers. Ineed to lead the troops.”“And you will,” Frank promised. “As soon as you get back from SanFrancisco. 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 yousure, 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 youon this quest. Go.”Why did Reyna look so excited? How crushing her work must havebeen, if, after carrying the burden of leadership for so long, she was lookingforward 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. Bigday tomorrow. We’ll need your help with the war games. I’ve got a specialjob in mind for each of you.”
Hamster ball of deathSpare me your fiery doomI’m not feeling itOH, BOY, A SPECIAL job!The anticipation was killing me. Or maybe that was the poison in myveins.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 cupacross 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 crackledopen like corn kernels. Just a few minutes ago, Meg had been happilyinsulting me and gorging on jelly beans. Now…Was she crying?“Meg.” I sat up, trying not to wince. “Meg, you’re not responsible for megetting hurt.”She twisted the ring on her right hand, then the one on her left, as ifthey’d become too small for her fingers. “I just thought…if I could killhim…” She wiped her nose. “Like in some stories. You kill the master, andyou can free the people he’s turned.”It took a moment for her words to sink in. I was pretty sure the dynamicshe was describing applied to vampires, not zombies, but I understood what
- Page 96 and 97: unbelievable. On the other hand, no
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- Page 108 and 109: Reluctant arrowGrant me this boon:
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- Page 120 and 121: “What?” she demanded. “I got
- Page 122 and 123: I glanced back at Meg and Lavinia.
- Page 124 and 125: and see us. Or smell us. Oh, human
- Page 126 and 127: Caelius whimpered. “Yes, my king.
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- Page 140 and 141: “That can’t be right,” I said
- Page 142 and 143: “We’re doomed,” I wailed. “
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- Page 150 and 151: it were actually true. I had someon
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- Page 154 and 155: “Oh, my gods, Thomas!” Lavinia
- Page 156 and 157: See this right here, kids?This is h
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- Page 160 and 161: Lavinia shrugged. “Maybe, but the
- Page 162 and 163: With that happy news, Lavinia and D
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- Page 166 and 167: The song quickly morphed, however.
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- Page 174 and 175: “Can’t be sure, obviously. But
- Page 176 and 177: “I know what rhetorical means.”
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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
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