“Great,” Frank said. “How do we know it’s safe down there?”
Hazel knelt. She put her hand over the opening as if checking the temperature. “There’s nothing alive…at least not for several hundred feet. The tunnel slants down, then levels out and goes south, more or less. I don’t sense any traps…”
“How can you tell all that?” Leo asked.
She shrugged. “Same way you can pick locks on marble columns, I guess. I’m glad you’re not into robbing banks.”
“Oh…bank vaults,” Leo said. “Never thought about that.”
“Forget I said anything.” Hazel sighed. “Look, it’s not three o’clock yet. We can at least do a little exploring, try to pinpoint Nico’s location before we contact the others. You two stay here until I call for you. I want to check things out, make sure the tunnel is structurally sound. I’ll be able to tell more once I’m underground.”
Frank scowled. “We can’t let you go by yourself. You could get hurt.”
“Frank, I can take care of myself,” she said. “Underground is my specialty. It’s safest for all of us if I go first.”
“Unless Frank wants to turn into a mole,” Leo suggested. “Or a prairie dog. Those things are awesome.”
“Shut up,” Frank mumbled.
“Or a badger.”
Frank jabbed a finger at Leo’s face. “Valdez, I swear—”
“Both of you, be quiet,” Hazel scolded. “I’ll be back soon. Give me ten minutes. If you don’t hear from me by then…Never mind. I’ll be fine. Just try not to kill each other while I’m down there.”
She dropped down the hole. Leo and Frank blocked her from view as best they could. They stood shoulder to shoulder, trying to look casual, like it was completely natural for two teenaged guys to hang around Raphael’s tomb.
Tour groups came and went. Most ignored Leo and Frank. A few people glanced at them apprehensively and kept walking. Maybe the tourists thought they would ask for tips. For some reason, Leo could unnerve people when he grinned.
The three American manatees were still hanging out in the middle of the room. One of them wore a T-shirt that said ROMA, as if he’d forget what city he was in if he didn’t wear it. Every once in a while, he would glance over at Leo and Frank like he found their presence distasteful.
Something about that dude bothered Leo. He wished Hazel would hurry up.
“She talked to me earlier,” Frank said abruptly. “Hazel told me you figured out about my lifeline.”
Leo stirred. He’d almost forgotten Frank was standing next to him.
“Your lifeline…oh, the burning stick. Right.” Leo resisted the urge to set his hand ablaze and yell:
“Look, man,” he said. “It’s cool. I’d never do anything to put you in danger. We’re on the same team.”
Frank fiddled with his centurion badge. “I always knew fire could kill me, but since my grandmother’s mansion burned down in Vancouver…it seems a lot more
Leo nodded. He felt sympathy for Frank, but the guy didn’t make it easy when he talked about his family mansion. Sort of like saying,
Of course Leo didn’t tell him that. “Your grandmother—did she die in that fire? You didn’t say.”
“I—I don’t know. She was sick, and pretty old. She said she would die in her own time, in her own way. But I think she made it out of the fire. I saw this bird flying up from the flames.”
Leo thought about that. “So your whole family has the shape-changing thing?”
“I guess,” Frank said. “My mom did. Grandmother thought that’s what got her killed in Afghanistan, in the war. Mom tried to help some of her buddies, and…I don’t know exactly what happened. There was a firebomb.”
Leo winced with sympathy. “So we both lost our moms to fire.”
He hadn’t been planning on it, but he told Frank the whole story of the night at the workshop when Gaea had appeared to him, and his mother had died.
Frank’s eyes got watery. “I never like it when people tell me,
“It never feels genuine,” Leo agreed.
“But I’m sorry about your mom.”
“Thanks.”
No sign of Hazel. The American tourists were still milling around the Pantheon. They seemed to be circling closer, like they were trying to sneak up on Raphael’s tomb without it noticing.
“Back at Camp Jupiter,” Frank said, “our cabin Lar, Reticulus, told me I have more power than most demigods, being a son of Mars, plus having the shape-changing ability from my mom’s side. He said that’s why my life is tied to a burning stick. It’s such a huge weakness that it kind of balances things out.”
Leo remembered his conversation with Nemesis the revenge goddess at the Great Salt Lake. She’d said something similar about wanting the scales to balance.
Her fortune cookie was still in Leo’s tool belt, waiting to be opened.
