The Burning Maze

by Rick Riordan

  Annoyance flickered across Caligula’s face. ‘Yes, yes, Medea. In a moment. First, I must greet my loyal servants …’ He turned to the pandai who’d accompanied us from the ship of shoes. ‘Which of you is Wah-Wah?’

  Wah-Wah bowed, his ears spreading across the mosaic floor. ‘H-here, sire.’

  ‘Served me well, have you?’

  ‘Yes, sire!’

  ‘Until today.’

  The pandos looked like he was trying to swallow Tiny Tim’s ukulele. ‘They – they tricked us, lord! With horrible music!’

  ‘I see,’ Caligula said. ‘And how do you intend to make this right? How can I be sure of your loyalty?’

  ‘I – I pledge you my heart, sire! Now and always! My men and I –’ He clamped his huge hands over his mouth.

  Caligula smiled blandly. ‘Oh, Reverb?’

  His praetor commander stepped forward. ‘Lord?’

  ‘You heard Wah-Wah?’

  ‘Yes, lord,’ Reverb agreed. ‘His heart is yours. And also his men’s hearts.’

  ‘Well, then.’ Caligula flicked his fingers in a vague go away gesture. ‘Take them outside and collect what is mine.’

  The throne-room guards from the port side marched forward and seized Wah-Wah and his two lieutenants by the arms.

  ‘No!’ Wah-Wah screamed. ‘No, I – I didn’t mean –!’

  He and his men thrashed and sobbed, but it was no use. The golden-armoured pandai dragged them away.

  Reverb gestured at Crest, who stood trembling and whimpering next to Piper. ‘What about this one, sire?’

  Caligula narrowed his eyes. ‘Remind me why this one has white fur?’

  ‘He’s young, sire,’ Reverb said, not a trace of sympathy in his voice. ‘Our people’s fur darkens with age.’

  ‘I see.’ Caligula stroked Crest’s face with the back of his hand, causing the young pandos to whimper even louder. ‘Leave him. He’s amusing, and he seems harmless enough. Now shoo, Commander. Bring me those hearts.’

  Reverb bowed and hurried after his men.

  My pulse hammered in my temples. I wanted to convince myself things were not so bad. Half the emperor’s guards and their commander had just left. Medea was under the strain of controlling two venti. That meant only six elite pandai, a killer horse and an immortal emperor to deal with. Now was the optimal time for me to execute my clever plan … if only I had one.

  Caligula stepped to my side. He threw his arm around me like an old friend. ‘You see, Apollo? I’m not crazy. I’m not cruel. I just take people at their word. If you promise me your life, or your heart, or your wealth … then you should mean it, don’t you think?’

  My eyes watered. I was too afraid to blink.

  ‘Your friend Piper, for instance,’ Caligula said. ‘She wanted to spend time with her dad. She resented his career. So, guess what? I took that career away! If she’d just gone to Oklahoma with him, like they’d planned, she could’ve got what she wanted! But does she thank me? No. She comes here to kill me.’

  ‘I will,’ Piper said, her voice a bit steadier. ‘Take my word on that.’

  ‘Exactly my point,’ Caligula said. ‘No gratitude.’

  He patted me on the chest, sending starbursts of pain across my bruised ribs. ‘And Jason Grace? He wants to be a priest or something, build shrines to the gods. Fine! I am a god. I have no problem with that! Then he comes here to wreck my yachts with lightning. Is that priestlike behaviour? I don’t think so.’

  He strolled towards the swirling columns of wind. This left his back exposed, but neither Piper nor I moved to attack him. Even now, recalling it, I cannot tell you why. I felt so powerless, as if I were caught in a vision that had happened centuries before. For the first time, I sensed what it would be like if the Triumvirate controlled every Oracle. They would not just foresee the future – they would shape it. Their every word would become inexorable destiny.

  ‘And this one.’ Caligula studied Meg McCaffrey. ‘Her father once swore he wouldn’t rest until he reincarnated the blood-born, the silver wives! Can you believe it?’

  Blood-born. Silver wives. Those words sent a jolt through my nervous system. I felt I should know what they meant, how they related to the seven green seeds Meg had planted on the hillside. As usual, my human brain screamed in protest as I attempted to dredge the information from its depths. I could almost see the annoying FILE NOT FOUND message flashing behind my eyes.

  Caligula grinned. ‘Well, of course I took Dr McCaffrey at his word! I burned his stronghold to the ground. But, honestly, I thought I was quite generous to let him and his daughter live. Little Meg had a wonderful life with my nephew Nero. If she’d just kept her promises to him …’ He wagged his finger disapprovingly at her.

  On the starboard side of the room, Incitatus looked up from his golden oat bucket and belched. ‘Hey, Big C? Great speech and all. But shouldn’t we kill the two in the whirlwinds so Medea can turn her attention to flaying Lester alive? I really want to see that.’

  ‘Yes, please,’ Medea agreed, her teeth clenched.

  ‘NO!’ Piper shouted. ‘Caligula, let my friends go.’

  Unfortunately, she could barely stand up straight. Her voice shook.

  Caligula chuckled. ‘My love, I’ve been trained to resist charmspeak by Medea herself. You’ll have to do better than that if –’

  ‘Incitatus,’ Piper called, her voice a little stronger, ‘kick Medea in the head.’

  Incitatus flared his nostrils. ‘I think I’ll kick Medea in the head.’

  ‘No, you won’t!’ Medea shrieked in a sharp burst of charmspeak. ‘Caligula, silence the girl!’

  Caligula strode over to Piper. ‘Sorry, love.’

  He backhanded her across the mouth so hard she turned a full circle before collapsing.

  ‘OHHH!’ Incitatus whinnied with pleasure. ‘Good one!’

  I broke.

  Never had I felt such rage. Not when I destroyed the entire family of Niobids for their insults. Not when I fought Heracles in the chamber of Delphi. Not even when I struck down the Cyclopes who had made my father’s murderous lightning.

  I decided at that moment Piper McLean would not die tonight. I charged Caligula, intent on wrapping my hands around his neck. I wanted to strangle him to death, if only to wipe that smug smile off his face.

  I felt sure my godly power would return. I would rip the emperor apart in my righteous fury.

  Instead, Caligula pushed me to the floor with hardly a glance.

  ‘Please, Lester,’ he said. ‘You’re embarrassing yourself.’

  Piper lay shivering as if she were cold.

  Crest crouched nearby, trying in vain to cover his massive ears. No doubt he was regretting his decision to follow his dream of taking music lessons.

  I fixed my eyes on the twin cyclones, hoping that Jason and Meg had somehow escaped. They had not, but strangely, as if by silent agreement, they seemed to have switched roles.

  Rather than raging in response to Piper being struck, Jason now floated deathly still, his eyes closed, his face like stone. Meg, on the other hand, clawed at her ventus cage, screaming words I couldn’t hear. Her clothes were in tatters. Her face was crosshatched with a dozen bleeding cuts, but she didn’t seem to care. She kicked and punched and threw packets of seeds into the maelstrom, causing festive bursts of pansies and daffodils among the shrapnel.

  By the imperial dais, Medea had turned pale and sweaty. Countering Piper’s charmspeak must have taxed her, but that gave me no comfort.

  Reverb and his guards would soon be back, bearing the hearts of the emperor’s enemies.

  A cold thought flooded through me. The hearts of his enemies.

  I felt as if I had been backhanded. The emperor needed me alive, at least for the moment. Which meant my only leverage …

  My expression must have been priceless. Caligula burst out laughing.

  ‘Apollo, you look like someone stepped on your favourite lyre!’ He tutted. ‘You think you’ve had it
bad? I grew up as a hostage in my Uncle Tiberius’s palace. Do you have any idea how evil that man was? I woke up every day expecting to be assassinated, just like the rest of my family. I became a consummate actor. Whatever Tiberius needed me to be, I was. And I survived. But you? Your life has been golden from start to finish. You don’t have the stamina to be mortal.’

  He turned to Medea. ‘Very well, sorceress! You may turn your little blenders up to puree and kill the two prisoners. Then we will deal with Apollo.’

  Medea smiled. ‘Gladly.’

  ‘Wait!’ I screamed, pulling an arrow from my quiver.

  The emperor’s remaining guards levelled their spears, but the emperor shouted, ‘HOLD!’

  I didn’t try to draw my bow. I didn’t attack Caligula. Instead, I turned the arrow inward and pressed the point against my chest.

  Caligula’s smile evaporated. He examined me with thinly veiled contempt. ‘Lester … what are you doing?’

  ‘Let my friends go,’ I said. ‘All of them. Then you can have me.’

  The emperor’s eyes gleamed like a strix’s. ‘And if I don’t?’

  I summoned my courage, and issued a threat I never could have imagined in my previous four thousand years of life. ‘I’ll kill myself.’

  32

  Don’t make me do it

  I’m crazy, I’ll do it, I’ll –

  Ow, that really hurt

  Oh, no, thou shalt not, buzzed a voice in my head.

  My noble gesture was ruined when I realized I had, once again, drawn the Arrow of Dodona by mistake. It shook violently in my hand, no doubt making me look even more terrified than I was. Nevertheless, I held it fast.

  Caligula narrowed his eyes. ‘You would never. You don’t have a self-sacrificing instinct in your body!’

  ‘Let them go.’ I pressed the arrow against my skin, hard enough to draw blood. ‘Or you’ll never be the sun god.’

  The arrow hummed angrily, KILLETH THYSELF WITH SOME OTHER PROJECTILE, KNAVE. OF COMMON MURDER WEAPONS, I AM NONE!

  ‘Oh, Medea,’ Caligula called over his shoulder, ‘if he kills himself in this fashion, can you still do your magic?’

  ‘You know I can’t,’ she complained. ‘It’s a complicated ritual! We can’t have him murdering himself in some sloppy way before I’m prepared.’

  ‘Well, that’s mildly annoying.’ Caligula sighed. ‘Look, Apollo, you can’t expect this will have a happy ending. I am not Commodus. I’m not playing a game. Be a nice boy and let Medea kill you in the correct way. Then I’ll give these others a painless death. That’s my best offer.’

  I decided Caligula would make a terrible car salesman.

  Next to me, Piper shivered on the floor, her neural pathways probably overloaded by trauma. Crest had wrapped himself in his own ears. Jason continued to meditate in his cone of swirling shrapnel, though I couldn’t imagine he would achieve nirvana under those circumstances.

  Meg yelled and gesticulated at me, perhaps telling me not to be a fool and put down the arrow. I took no pleasure in the fact that, for once, I couldn’t hear her orders.

  The emperor’s guards stayed where they were, gripping their spears. Incitatus munched his oats like he was at the movies.

  ‘Last chance,’ Caligula said.

  Somewhere behind me, at the top of the ramp, a voice called, ‘My lord!’

  Caligula looked over. ‘What is it, Flange? I’m a little busy here.’

  ‘N-news, my lord.’

  ‘Later.’

  ‘Sire, it’s about the northern attack.’

  I felt a surge of hope. The assault on New Rome was happening tonight. I didn’t have the good hearing of a pandos, but the hysterical urgency in Flange’s tone was unmistakable. He was not bringing the emperor good news.

  Caligula’s expression soured. ‘Come here, then. And don’t touch the idiot with the arrow.’

  The pandos Flange shuffled past me and whispered something in the emperor’s ear. Caligula may have considered himself a consummate actor, but he didn’t do a good job of hiding his disgust.

  ‘How disappointing.’ He tossed Meg’s golden rings aside like they were worthless pebbles. ‘Your sword, please, Flange.’

  ‘I –’ Flange fumbled for his khanda. ‘Y-yes, lord.’

  Caligula examined the blunt serrated blade, then returned it to its owner with vicious force, plunging it into the poor pandos’s gut. Flange howled as he crumbled to dust.

  Caligula faced me. ‘Now, where were we?’

  ‘Your northern attack,’ I said. ‘Didn’t go so well?’

  It was foolish of me to goad him, but I couldn’t help it. At that moment, I wasn’t any more rational than Meg McCaffrey – I just wanted to hurt Caligula, to smash everything he owned to dust.

  He waved aside my question. ‘Some jobs I have to do myself. That’s fine. You’d think a Roman demigod camp would obey orders from a Roman emperor, but alas.’

  ‘The Twelfth Legion has a long history of supporting good emperors,’ I said. ‘And of deposing bad ones.’

  Caligula’s left eye twitched. ‘Oh, Boost, where are you?’

  On the port side, one of the horse-groomer pandai dropped his brush in alarm. ‘Yes, lord?’

  ‘Take your men,’ Caligula said. ‘Spread the word. We break formation immediately and sail north. We have unfinished business in the Bay Area.’

  ‘But, sire …’ Boost looked at me, as if deciding whether I was enough of a threat to warrant leaving the emperor without his remaining guards. ‘Yes, sire.’

  The rest of the pandai shuffled off, leaving Incitatus without anyone to hold his golden oat bucket.

  ‘Hey, C,’ said the stallion. ‘Aren’t you putting the cart before the horse? Before we head off to war, you’ve got to finish your business with Lester.’

  ‘Oh, I will,’ Caligula promised. ‘Now, Lester, we both know you’re not going to –’

  He lunged with blinding speed, making a grab for the arrow. I’d been anticipating that. Before he could stop me, I cleverly plunged the arrow into my chest. Ha! That would teach Caligula to underestimate me!

  Dear reader, it takes a great deal of willpower to intentionally harm yourself. And not the good kind of willpower – the stupid, reckless kind you should never try to summon, even in an effort to save your friends.

  As I stabbed myself, I was shocked by the sheer amount of pain I experienced. Why did killing yourself have to hurt so much?

  My bone marrow turned to lava. My lungs filled with hot wet sand. Blood soaked my shirt and I fell to my knees, gasping and dizzy. The world spun around me as if the entire throne room had become a giant ventus prison.

  VILLAINY! The Arrow of Dodona’s voice buzzed in my mind (and now also in my chest). THOU DIDST NOT JUST IMPALE ME HEREIN! O, VILE, MONSTROUS FLESH!

  A distant part of my brain thought it was unfair for him to complain, since I was the one dying, but I couldn’t have spoken even if I’d wanted to.

  Caligula rushed forward. He grabbed the shaft of the arrow, but Medea yelled, ‘Stop!’

  She ran across the throne room and knelt at my side.

  ‘Pulling out the arrow could make matters worse!’ she hissed.

  ‘He stabbed himself in the chest,’ Caligula said. ‘How can it be worse?’

  ‘Fool,’ she muttered. I wasn’t sure whether the comment was directed at me or Caligula. ‘I don’t want him to bleed out.’ She removed a black silk bag from her belt, pulled out a stoppered glass vial and shoved the bag at Caligula. ‘Hold this.’

  She uncorked the vial and poured its contents over the entry wound.

  COLD! complained the Arrow of Dodona. COLD! COLD!

  Personally, I didn’t feel a thing. The searing pain had become a dull, throbbing ache throughout my whole body. I was pretty sure that was a bad sign.

  Incitatus trotted over. ‘Whoa, he really did it. That’s a horse of a different colour.’

  Medea examined the wound. She cursed in ancient Colchian, ca
lling into question my mother’s past romantic relationships.

  ‘This idiot can’t even kill himself right,’ grumbled the sorceress. ‘It appears that, somehow, he missed his heart.’

  ’TWAS ME, WITCH! the arrow intoned from within my ribcage. DOST THOU THINK I WOULD FAIN ALLOW MYSELF TO BE EMBEDDED IN THE DISGUSTING HEART OF LESTER? I DODGED AND WEAVED!

  I made a mental note to either thank or break the Arrow of Dodona later, whichever made the most sense at the time.

  Medea snapped her fingers at the emperor. ‘Hand me the red vial.’

  Caligula scowled, clearly not used to playing surgical nurse. ‘I never rummage through a woman’s purse. Especially a sorceress’s.’

  I thought this was the surest sign yet that he was perfectly sane.

  ‘If you want to be the sun god,’ Medea snarled, ‘do it!’

  Caligula found the red vial.

  Medea coated her right hand with the gooey contents. With her left, she grabbed the Arrow of Dodona and yanked it from my chest.

  I screamed. My vision went dark. My left pectorals felt like they were being excavated with a drill bit. When I regained my sight, I found the arrow wound plugged with a thick red substance like the wax of a letter seal. The pain was horrible, unbearable, but I could breathe again.

  If I hadn’t been so miserable, I might have smiled in triumph. I had been counting on Medea’s healing powers. She was almost as skilled as my son Asclepius, though her bedside manner was not as good, and her cures tended to involve dark magic, vile ingredients and the tears of small children.

  I had not, of course, expected Caligula to let my friends go. But I had hoped, with Medea distracted, she might lose control of her venti. And so she did.

  That moment is fixed in my mind: Incitatus peering down at me, his muzzle flecked with oats; the sorceress Medea examining my wound, her hands sticky with blood and magic paste; Caligula standing over me, his splendid white trousers and shoes freckled with my blood; and Piper and Crest on the floor nearby, their presence momentarily forgotten by our captors. Even Meg seemed frozen within her churning prison, horrified by what I had done.