The Tyrant's Tomb

who might otherwise wind up as collateral damage—like ripples in a local
pond warning of a dragon’s first footstep.
“Well,” Reyna said, “if that’s true, it means we’re in the right place. And
I can only think of one other direction to explore.” Her eyes followed the
pylons of Sutro Tower until they disappeared into the fog. “Who wants to
climb first?”
Want had nothing to do with it. I was drafted.
The ostensible reason was so Reyna could steady me if I started feeling
shaky on the ladder. The real reason was probably so I couldn’t back out if I
got scared. Meg went last, I suppose because that would give her time to
select the proper gardening seeds to throw at our enemies while they were
mauling my face and Reyna was pushing me forward.
Aurum and Argentum, not being able to climb, stayed on the ground to
guard our exit like the opposable-thumb-lacking slackers they were. If we
ended up plummeting to our deaths, the dogs would be right there to bark
excitedly at our corpses. That gave me great comfort.
The rungs were slippery and cold. The chute’s metal ribs made me feel
like I was crawling through a giant Slinky. I imagined they were meant as
some kind of safety feature, but they did nothing to reassure me. If I slipped,
they would just be more painful things for me to hit on my way down.
After a few minutes, my limbs were shaking. My fingers trembled. The
first set of crossbeams seemed to be getting no closer. I looked down and
saw we had barely cleared the radar dishes on the station’s rooftop.
The cold wind buffeted me around the cage, ripping through my hoodie,
rattling the arrows in my quiver. Whatever Tarquin’s guards were, if they
caught me on this ladder, my bow and my ukulele would do me no good. At
least a flock of killer sheep couldn’t climb ladders.
Meanwhile, in the fog high above us, more dark shapes swirled—
definitely birds of some kind. I reminded myself that they couldn’t be
strixes. Still, a queasy sense of danger gnawed at my stomach.
What if—?
Stop it, Apollo, I chided myself. There’s nothing you can do now but keep
climbing.
I concentrated on one perilous slippery rung at a time. The soles of my
shoes squeaked against the metal.
Below me, Meg asked, “Do you guys smell roses?”