The Tyrant's Tomb

“You mean it’s a communication scroll?”
She nodded. “I’d do it myself, but it’s dangerous to drive and scroll.”
“Um, okay.” I spread the vellum across my lap.
Its surface appeared blank. Nothing happened.
I wondered if I was supposed to say some magic words or give it a credit
card number or something. Then, above the scroll, a faint ball of light
flickered, slowly resolving into a miniature holographic Frank Zhang.
“Whoa!” Tiny Frank nearly jumped out of his tiny armor. “Apollo?”
“Hi,” I said. Then to Reyna, “It works.”
“I see that,” she said. “Frank, can you hear me?”
Frank squinted. We must have looked tiny and fuzzy to him, too. “Is
that…? Can barely…Reyna?”
“Yes!” she said. “We’re on our way back. The ships are incoming!”
“I know…. Scout’s report…” Frank’s voice crackled. He seemed to be in
some sort of large cave, legionnaires hustling behind him, digging holes and
carrying large urns of some kind.
“What are you doing?” Reyna asked. “Where are you?”
“Caldecott…” Frank said. “Just…defensive stuff.”
I wasn’t sure if his voice fuzzed out that time because of static, or if he
was being evasive. Judging from his expression, we’d caught him at an
awkward moment.
“Any word…Michael?” he asked. (Definitely changing the subject.)
“Should’ve…by now.”
“What?” Reyna asked, loud enough to make Meg snort in her sleep. “No,
I was going to ask if you’d heard anything. They were supposed to stop the
yachts at the Golden Gate. Since the ships got through…” Her voice faltered.
There could have been a dozen reasons why Michael Kahale and his
commando team had failed to stop the emperors’ yachts. None of them were
good, and none of them could change what would happen next. The only
things now standing between Camp Jupiter and fiery annihilation were the
emperors’ pride, which made them insist on making a ground assault first,
and an empty Smucker’s jelly jar that might or might not allow us to
summon godly help.
“Just hang on!” Reyna said. “Tell Ella to get things ready for the ritual!”
“Can’t…What?” Frank’s face melted to a smudge of colored light. His
voice sounded like gravel shaking in an aluminum can. “I…Hazel…Need to
—”