22.01.2024 Views

The Tyrant's Tomb

Create successful ePaper yourself

Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.

“Thank you.” I looked up, but Lupa was gone. Nothing remained except

silver mist, blending with the smoke from Jason’s pyre.

I gave Reyna and Frank the simplest version: I had received the wolf

goddess’s blessing. I promised to tell them more the next day, once I’d had

time to make sense of it. Meanwhile, I trusted that word would spread

among the legion about Lupa giving me guidance. That would be enough for

now. These demigods needed all the reassurance they could get.

As the pyre burned, Frank and Hazel stood hand in hand, keeping vigil as

Jason made his final voyage. I sat on a funeral picnic blanket with Meg, who

ate everything in sight and went on and on about her excellent afternoon

tending unicorns with Lavinia. Meg boasted that Lavinia had even let her

clean out the stables.

“She pulled a Tom Sawyer on you,” I observed.

Meg frowned, her mouth filled with hamburger. “Whad’ya mean?”

“Nothing. You were saying, about unicorn poop?”

I tried to eat my dinner, but despite how hungry I was, the food tasted

like dust.

When the pyre’s last embers died and the wind spirits cleared away the

remnants of the feast, we followed the legionnaires back to camp.

Up in Bombilo’s spare room, I lay on my cot and studied the cracks in

the ceiling. I imagined they were lines of tattooed script across a Cyclops’s

back. If I stared at them long enough, maybe they would start to make sense,

or at least I could find the index.

Meg threw a shoe at me. “You gotta rest. Tomorrow’s the senate

meeting.”

I brushed her red high-top off my chest. “You’re not asleep, either.”

“Yeah, but you’ll have to speak. They’ll wanna hear your plan.”

“My plan?”

“You know, like an oration. Inspire them and stuff. Convince them what

to do. They’ll vote on it and everything.”

“One afternoon in the unicorn stables, and you’re an expert on Roman

senatorial proceedings.”

“Lavinia told me.” Meg sounded positively smug about it. She lay on her

cot, tossing her other high-top in the air and catching it again. How she

managed this without her glasses on, I had no idea.

Hooray! Your file is uploaded and ready to be published.

Saved successfully!

Ooh no, something went wrong!