The Tower of Nero (The Trials of Apollo #5)(10)



“He graduated high school,” Meg said, as if she’d witnessed a miracle.

“I know,” Sally said. “We even had cake.” She pointed to another picture of Percy and Sally, beaming as they held up a baby-blue cake with darker blue icing that read CONGRATULATIONS, PERCY THE GRADUTE! I did not ask why graduate was misspelled, dyslexia being so common in demigod families.

“Then”—I gulped—“he’s not here.”

It was a silly thing to say, but some stubborn part of me insisted that Percy Jackson must be here somewhere, waiting to do dangerous tasks for me. That was his job!

But, no. That was the old Apollo’s way of thinking—the Apollo I’d been the last time I was in this apartment. Percy was entitled to his own life. He was trying to have one, and—oh, the bitter truth!—it had nothing to do with me.

“I’m happy for him,” I said. “And Annabeth…”

Then it occurred to me that they’d probably been incommunicado since they left New York. Cell phones attracted too much monstrous attention for demigods to use, especially on a road trip. Magical means of communications were slowly coming back online since we’d released the god of silence, Harpocrates, but they were still spotty. Percy and Annabeth might have no idea about all the tragedies we’d faced on the West Coast—at Camp Jupiter, and before that in Santa Barbara.…

“Oh, dear,” I muttered to myself. “I suppose that means they haven’t heard—”

Meg coughed loudly. She gave me a hard shut-up glare.

Right. It would be cruel to burden Sally and Paul with news of Jason Grace’s death, especially when Percy and Annabeth were making their way to California and Sally must already be worried about them.

“Haven’t heard what?” Sally asked.

I swallowed dryly. “That we were coming back to New York. No matter. We’ll just—”

“Enough small talk,” Lu interrupted. “We are in grave danger. These mortals cannot help us. We must go.”

Lu’s tone wasn’t exactly disdainful—just irritated, and maybe concerned for our hosts. If Nero tracked us to this apartment, he wouldn’t spare Percy’s family just because they weren’t demigods.

On the other hand, the Arrow of Dodona had told us to come here. There had to be a reason. I hoped it had something to do with what Paul was cooking.

Sally studied our large tattooed friend. She didn’t look offended, more like she was taking Lu’s measure and pondering whether she had any clothes large enough to fit her. “Well, you can’t leave dripping wet. Let’s get you some dry things to wear, at least, and some food if you’re hungry.”

“Yes, please,” Meg said. “I love you.”

Estelle burst into a fresh peal of giggles. She had apparently just discovered that her father’s fingers could wiggle, and she considered this hilarious.

Sally smiled at her baby, then at Meg. “I love you, too, dear. Percy’s friends are always welcome.”

“I have no idea who this Percy is,” Lu protested.

“Anyone who needs help is always welcome,” Sally amended. “Believe me, we’ve been in danger before, and we’ve come through it. Right, Paul?”

“Yep,” he agreed without hesitation. “There’s plenty of food. I think Percy has some clothes that will fit, uh, is it Apollo?”

I nodded morosely. I knew all too well that Percy’s clothes would fit me, because I’d left here six months ago wearing his hand-me-downs. “Thank you, Paul.”

Lu grunted. “I suppose.…Is that lasagna I smell?”

Paul grinned. “The Blofis family recipe.”

“Hm. I suppose we could stay for a bit,” Lu decided.

The wonders never ceased. The Gaul and I actually agreed on something.

“Here, try this.” Paul tossed me a faded Percy T-shirt to go with my ratty Percy jeans.

I did not complain. The clothes were clean, warm, and dry, and after trudging underground across half of Manhattan, my old outfit smelled so bad it would have to be sealed in a hazardous waste pouch and incinerated.

I sat on Percy’s bed next to Estelle, who lay on her back, staring in fascination at a blue plastic donut.

I ran my hand across the faded words on the T-shirt: AHS SWIM TEAM. “What does AHS stand for?”

Paul wrinkled his nose. “Alternative High School. It was the only place that would take Percy for just his senior year, after…You know.”

I remembered. Percy had disappeared for the entirety of his junior year thanks to the meddling of Hera, who zapped him across the country and gave him amnesia, all for the sake of making the Greek and Roman demigod camps unite for the war with Gaea. My stepmother just loved bringing people together.

“You didn’t approve of the situation, or the school?” I asked.

Paul shrugged. He looked uncomfortable, as if saying anything negative would go against his nature.

Estelle gave me a drooling grin. “Gah?” I took this to mean Can you believe how lucky we are to be alive right now?

Paul sat next to her and gently cupped his hand over her wispy hair.

“I’m an English teacher at another high school,” he said. “AHS was…not the best. For kids who are struggling, at risk, you want a safe place with good accommodations and excellent support. You want to understand each student as an individual. Alt High was more like a holding pen for everybody who didn’t fit into the system. Percy had been through so much…I was worried about him. But he made the best of the situation. He really wanted to get that diploma. I’m proud of him.”

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