The Lost Prince

Chapter 9: Et tu...

Aren entered the jail block without the slightest sound. She pressed herself flat against the wall, edging up to the corner, and peered around into the next corridor.

Three barred doors occupied one wall. There was a single wooden table and one guard lounging in the chair beside it. The soldier didn't seem too enthralled by his job and seemed far more interested in whittling things into the table with his dagger than keeping his eye on the cells.

She could see from her vantage point that the first cell was empty. The only cell that had any noise coming out of it was the end one. It also happened to be the one with the guard stationed directly opposite.

She reached into her robe and withdrew her dagger.

Leaning back into cover, she gripped the weapon by the blade and flung it at the wooden door opposite her, burying it into the aging wood with a loud thud.

Aren poised herself as she saw the guard's shadow change as he shot to his feet in shock, his chair clattering to the floor behind him.

"Who's there?" called the guard, the unmistakable sound of steel being cautiously drawn clearly audible.

Aren slid back a step as the guard edged forward, his sword raised.

She watched as the shadow of the man's sword lowered slightly and he edged warily towards the dagger. He grasped it and tugged once, then twice and with some effort managed to tear it free.

The guard regarded it with a frown as Aren slid out of concealment behind him and tapped him twice on the shoulder.

The guard turned about, a confused look on his face as he regarded the young blonde girl who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Aren nodded at the dagger. "I'm going to need that back now."

Before the guard could process the information, Aren lashed out with the flat of her palm and struck the unprepared guard in the face. He reeled back and smacked his head off the door behind him, collapsing to the floor in an unconscious heap.

"Time to escape?"called Percy's voice from down the corridor.

Aren retrieved her dagger and stood up. "Pretty much..."

"Be right out."

There was a crash as the end cell door was kicked off its hinges by a foot in a white Nike.

Percy emerged and dusted his toga down. "Well, that wasn't very secure."

Aren shrugged as she proceeded to bind and gag the prone guard. "I suppose they didn't need to worry about their prisoners escaping."

"Why?"

Aemilia answered as she strode out her cell, looking as irritated as always. "Because where else would we go? Rome is teeming with soldiers and guards. All it takes is one to raise the alarm and spread word."

"Come now. I'm sure everything will be fine," said Theia calmly as she emerged, her black cat at her side.

"Ever the optimist, Theia,"grumbled Aemilia as Aren shoved the guard into one of the cells and locked it up with the keys on his belt.

Aren stood up and regarded the others. "We don't have much time until it's discovered you've escaped. Now, we've got to go and help the others."

"You think Armani's gotten in trouble getting the shard back?" asked Percy.

Aren looked at him. "We're in the middle of enemy territory,it's Armani, and we've turned our backs on him for more than five minutes."

Percy nodded his head. "Good point... But like the lady with the talking cat said, I'm sure he's fine."

-A-

We're all royally screwed.

Things had been going fine. My father was holding his own against Marcus; the stronger demigod was experienced, but obviously it wasn't enough in the face of several millennia worth of training. They weaved about one another, clashing blades in the cramped space.

Then things got progressively worse.

Guards were banging away on the door; obviously the commotion had attracted attention, and the curtain rail my father had used to bar it probably wouldn't hold for long.

Caesar may have been a politician, but that obviously didn't mean he'd become a slouch. His sword skills were far superior to the only other son of Hades I'd ever met.

"Not bad, boy,"snarled the dictator as he smashed down on my blade with his Stygian sword. "But do you really think I've survived this long by letting brute strength decide a fight?"

I parried his blade aside and swung into a roundhouse kick that sent Julius staggering back a few steps.

"Not going to let your friends in?"I asked with a smirk, ducking as my father sent Marcus flinging just over my head.

Julius paid little heed as his subordinate landed on one hand and sprung right back up, charging again. "This is not a fight for mortals, and do you really think I need help to crush a whelp like you?" The son of Pluto flipped his sword over in his hand as we circled one another.

Cocky chap, isn't he?

"You should mind your hubris, Gaius. Apollo likes to make examples out of people like you."

He stopped, smile faltering. "My confidence is well founded...boy," he spat, and that was when things took a much worse turn.

The ground started rumbling.

Caesar smirked. "Let's take this somewhere less cramped, shall we?" None of us had a second to ask what he meant when the shadows each of us was standing in suddenly swallowed us up.

-A-

I managed to keep my footing as we emerged from the shadows in a large open topped room.

Multi-level seats covered one wall in a semicircle with us standing on a large stage before them.

The Senate's meeting place, and also the theater. He has irony, I'll hand him that.

Caesar spread his arms out, sword raised. "Now let us continue!"

"If I might interject," said Hippolytus suddenly, using the temporary break in the action.

Caesar scowled. "What is it?"

He turned to me. "Why did you call me father?" asked the temple guardian with a raised eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes. "Is this really such an important thing to be bringing up now?"

"I find myself asking the same thing," grumbled Marcus, his foot twitching, obviously itching to continue fighting.

He shook his head. "No, I think I'd like some answers. Why did you call me father?"

"Because you are my father, and if at all possible can we please carry on this conversation in English?"I muttered, not wanting those present to catch wind of our true origin.

Hippolytus looked aghast at my implication, "Impossible. I know not where you get your information, young man, but I swore a vow of celibacy centuries ago."

"Let's just say you didn't have much of a say in the issue. You remember who you are now, I take it."

He scratched his forehead with the base of his sword. "Well, I remember everything now, even the events of the past few weeks that I've been stuck here."

"Enough of this foolishness..." interrupted Julius coldly, and I saw his outline begin to glow a cold blue, the subtle tremor under my feet becoming a light earthquake.

I felt an unnatural chill run down me as it suddenly occurred to me what was probably about to happen.

Oh no... Not that. Anything but that.

My vain prayer was answered by a withered hand bursting out of the stone flooring by my foot and grasping hold of my ankle.

I cried out in shock and swiped down with my sword in disgust, staggering back. "Zombies! Why does it always have to be zombies?"

"Come to think of it," said Hippolytus, still in thought and totally undisturbed by the undead rising around him. His hand flicked out with his blade to decapitate the ones who had fully formed near him. "One of the last things I remember doing is getting that strange Iris Message from a gentleman claiming to be from the Olympian Forestry Commission..."

"Father, there's no such thing as the Olympian Forestry Commission," I said irritably as I fought off the rising hordes.

He severed an undead barbarian at the hip and nodded his head thoughtfully. "You know, that would explain a lot..."

"Yes, I'm sure your recovering memories will be very fascinating and all," I said as I jump-kicked a decomposing Centurion, "but perhaps we can save the exposition for a less precipitous moment."

My father nodded his head as he calmly bisected another undead opponent. "If you say so..."

"Give me the shard, Caesar," I called at the Roman as he stood calmly back and let his troops assault us.

As we fended off the undead assailants, we noticed a murmuring as people gathered at the far doorways. Older Romans, dressed in white, were watching from afar.

The politicians don't look too surprised...

Some of the undead my father had been fighting were already putting themselves together again, and with Marcus attacking at the same time, he was starting to be pressed back.

"Tell me what this is...and I'll call them off." said Caesar calmly as he held up the shard, his tone sickeningly patronizing.

I drove my sword into the gut of my attacker and forced him forwards, knocking back the attackers beyond him.

I pulled it free and somersaulted over his head, lunging at Caesar.

He swung his sword up to guard, deflecting my blow, that smile unfaltering on his face. An instant later the undead I had knocked down were back up and had hold of my shoulders, pulling me back into their number.

I roared and thrust my shoulders back, shaking them off for a second as I swung about and into an overhead strike.

As my sword clashed with Caesar's black blade and, as we grappled, something very odd happened.

My weapon seemed to shimmer and then, in the space of a second, it elongated, becoming thinner, changing form until instead of a celestial bronze sword, I now held a very familiar hunting spear—a spear with a dark shaft and pitch-black Stygian Iron head.

It was Orion's spear.

What in the name of...

The sudden change caused Caesar's blade to lurch forward and I used his momentum to leapfrog over his head and then jump back several feet for safety.

I backed around over to my father as dozens of Caesar's zombified minions encroached upon us.

I wasn't sure if it was some inbuilt Hunter's ability to use this kind of weapon, but I didn't bother to question how it almost felt as at home in my hands as my bow did.

I twirled the spear handle around in my fingers as if I'd done it a million times before and grabbed the shaft in both hands, slashing out in a semi-circle at the enemy.

As the blade sliced through them, each of the undead erupted into blue flame, collapsing harmlessly into a pile of dust.

The remaining number backed quickly off, hesitating.

"Where in Hades did you get that?" asked Hippolytus, gaping slightly as he blocked another blow from Marcus.

I shook my head. "I have absolutely no idea."

"Hey, it has a tag on it," he said, nodding at a small label tied just under the head with a bit of string. He booted Marcus clear long enough to tilt his head and read it whilst I used the shaft to force back the undead as they began to advance again. "If you're reading this... then you officially owe me," he read with a curious frown. "Signed... Clarisse La Rue?"

It was funny how, even though immense gratitude was what I felt in that moment, I still found myself complaining. "Little alterations. Little, she said!"

"I'm afraid I don't follow." said Hippolytus a second before Marcus shoulder charged him to the floor.

"Never mind," I sighed, spinning the hunting spear about in my hand and rounding on Caesar, whose air of superiority seemed to have momentarily left him.

"How... How DARE you!" snarled the dictator. "You will see what happens to those who defy the will of Caesar!" At his words, clouds of dust erupted around him and seconds later undead seemed to occupy every free inch of the stage and surrounding stalls.

My father and I backed up to each other, weapons raised.

Marcus turned to Caesar, an angry look on his face. "I do not need help in this fight, Julius! Dismiss these abominations and let me continue!"

"Silence!" barked the dictator. "If you will not tell me what I need to know, then I will have you torn limb from limb and then simply find out what I need to know after you have died."

"What do you think?" I asked my father.

My father's gaze swept our surroundings. "I will admit... I'm not thrilled with the odds."

A reluctant smile spread across my face. "Come now, I'm sure we've both been in worse scrapes."

Hippolytus cocked his head. "None spring to mind...And I was once dragged to death by horses."

I sighed. "Fighting to death against insurmountable odds..."

Hippolytus smiled grimly. "That's what we live for. Now let's do it with some class! For Artemis!"

We both roared in triumph and attacked. My father's slender blade sliced at blinding speeds, decapitating and dismembering as he moved and dodged about his enemies with not a single wasted movement.

I swung my dark spear, cutting a swath of destruction through my opponents. The black tip instantly turned all it touched to flame like a great arc of blazing destruction. I cried out in pain as something sharp stabbed into my left shoulder from behind.

I felt whatever held the weapon go limp and a severed arm holding a rusted broadsword flew by my peripheral vision a second later.

My speed was greatly reduced as I began finding it hard to effectively swing my weapon with both arms. Nicks and gashes began to build up as the enemy became bolder and pushed past my defenses.

I noticed Marcus had re-entered the fray once my father had cleared a decent space about himself and immediately reengaged him in battle.

We were fighting a never-ending battle; the numbers of the undead would thin and then swell again as they were simply reinforced once more.

End it now; there is no way you can keep this up!

I looked past my enemies and saw Caesar, his outline was glowing a bright ethereal blue as he fought to maintain his forces.

But…history…

This is a battle to the death! Screw history!

You're the boss…

I cleared a small space about myself and flipped the spear into my right hand. Rearing back, I hurled it directly at Caesar through his troops.

His meat shields exploded into dust as the spear passed through them with all the resistance of bursting bubbles.

A second later I heard a sickening 'thunk' and suddenly all the undead froze.

An instant later, and all together, every zombie in Caesar's force exploded, filling the courtyard with a massive cloud of dust and blue flame.

The smoke settled, and then there was silence.

Marcus and my father paused in their fight, blades still locked together as they looked unsurely about at this latest development.

Caesar was still standing, one hand braced on his knee and Stygian sword held limply in his left hand.

The spear was embedded in his shoulder.

He didn't look happy.

Well... at least he's alive.

"Caesar!" called Marcus

Caesar raised a hand to halt him and then reached up to grab the spear with this free limb.

He released his sword and pulled the spear with both hands.

There was a nasty squelching sound as he tore it free and tossed it to the ground in front of him.

It rolled towards me, shimmering and morphing back into a sword as it did so.

I retrieved the weapon as Caesar quickly pulled a small flask from his belt. He uncorked it and splashed nectar over the wound, stemming the blood as he then drank the remaining small amount.

I noticed he was breathing heavily as he pulled his sword back up. There was also a visible sheen of sweat on his face.

The nectar may have given him a small boost, but he was obviously heavily drained by the extensive use of his powers.

He pressed the heel of his shoe on his sword's pommel and flipped it back into the air, catching it and immediately retaking his stance.

"That wound still hasn't healed, Julius." I said as I readied a matching fighting stance.

He smirked nastily, "You don't look very good yourself."

Relax... Stay calm and stay focused. You can take him. He's too exhausted to keep using his powers like he was before.

I eyed the pouch on his robe where he had slipped the shard earlier.

I switched back to English, "Keep Marcus occupied. I can beat Caesar and get that shard if I can manage to wear him down, but I don't stand a chance against Marcus. My track record against children of Ares isn't exactly good, even when I'm at my best."

Not good? You've never beaten Clarisse once.

Shut up.

"Don't worry. I'll keep him busy," he said. I glanced over, getting a proper look at him for the first time since the fight began. It was only now that I noticed he wasn't exactly spic and span himself. His robes were torn, his long hair was matted with blood, and there were a few nasty cuts on him, including a particularly cringe worthy gash down his right arm.

Marcus had a swollen eye and several cuts, though thanks to him not being in a battle with the undead, he was otherwise unharmed.

I turned back to Caesar. Abruptly, he stepped to the side, and then vanished.

What the-

To the right!

I had less than a millisecond to lean back as a black blade shot out of the shadows, missing my throat by a fraction of an inch; Caesar shot out after and caught me with a shoulder barge on my injured side.

I fought through the stabbing pain and flipped my sword into the other hand just in time as Caesar spun about, swinging his sword on a horizontal arc.

My guard faltered as he reversed direction, spinning about and attacking me from the other side.

He pulled back around and planted a foot flat into my chest, sending me onto my back.

My sword clattered to the floor nearby as he drove down with his sword.

I spun myself up on my uninjured shoulder, twirling back onto my feet and hitting him with a sidekick that sent him reeling backwards.

I was on him, behind his guard. A left cross caught him on the chin and he flailed back as I turned about and slammed the back of my head into his face.

I felt something crack and Julius suddenly cried out in pain. I quickly retrieved my sword and saw Caesar take a moment to cradle his newly broken nose.

I didn't have a second's reprieve. I heard the sound of the air being disturbed to my right seconds before a foot kicked me in the lower back, sending me sprawling forward an instant before Marcus Antonius' sword could separate me from my head.

I looked up at my father, who had saved me by kicking me out of the way, as he grappled with his opponent.

"That was beneath you, Marcus," growled Hippolytus. One of his hands grappled with Marcus' as the Roman tried to force back the hilt of his opponent's sword with his free hand.

Marcus snarled as he tried to bring his sword about, "Unfortunately, that's the rule of the game for people like me: Duty before honor."

My father inclined his head acceptingly. "I can respect that; however, I'm afraid I've run out of time for games."

To emphasize his point, he released Marcus' fist and struck him in the face with the back of his hand.

Using the second of disorientation he had caused, Hippolytus leaned back and hit the Roman with a sidekick, pushing him back further and then springing into a swift double roundhouse kick that had Marcus staggering back on his heels.

Hippolytus landed, braced one foot behind him and drove a fist under his opponent's chin.

I caught the almost disbelieving look on the Roman general's face as he was lifted off the ground and thrown back through the air, unconscious before even hitting the floor.

Hippolytus' arms dropped to his sides as he gasped for breath. "I'm really out of shape..." Suddenly his eyes flicked to me and a flash of panic went over his features. "Armani, behind!"

Time seemed to slow as I turned just in time to see Caesar raising his blade up to attack, his body twisted mid-strike.

And then two things happened, each of which would've solved the crisis fine individually; together, however, they were a little too effective.

My hand caught the hilt of my sword and I spun it up to guard, and in the same second I caught sight of a shadow passing over my head as the cylindrical sheathe of my father's sword spun through the air and struck Caesar perfectly in the back of the leg.

I heard my heart beat in my ears as Caesar tripped and fell backwards in slow motion. My eyes flicked to my still upturned sword and I had that moment of panic; like when you drop a coffee cup and have just enough time to know what's about to happen and then just enough to know there's not a damn thing you can do to prevent the inevitable smash.

The smash in this case manifested into a sickening squelch as Caesar's back was impaled on my sword.

Everything seemed to freeze dead as I stared wide-eyed at the sight before me. My thought processes managed to restart themselves a second later; however, all my brain seemed to be able to provide me with was:

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…

My mouth was no more helpful. The only thing it managed to come up with was:

"...Oops?"

Eloquent as ever.

I blinked.

I just... Oh my god-

Stop saying that!

I just... stabbed Caesar in the back!

The spell broke and I pushed Caesar off my sword and scrambled back onto my feet and up to my father.

Hippolytus was looking down, rubbing his chin and humming ponderingly. "You know... I don't think you meant to do that."

I turned my head, gaping at him. "No...No, father, I did NOT mean to do that! What could possibly possess you to make you think that I-"

"Lord Caesar!" Came the cry of one of the politicians who had been watching in the wings as he rushed over to the fallen man and crouched down by him and holding him in his arms, the others slowly emerging after him. "Oh, by the gods...He's-"

The greying man was cut off by a sudden, pained "Oooohhh" from the supposedly dead man.

I breathed a sudden gasp of relief over the fact that he wasn't dead as his body began moving slightly.

As opposed to the relief I expected, the senator holding Caesar suddenly looked panicked, his eyes flashing to his companions, who merely shrugged.

The man holding Caesar turned back, plastering that distraught look back on his face. "Oh, by the gods. Our great leader is fading, on the edge of death!"

"I'm not dying," groaned the dictator.

"Ummm...Oh, our great leader, surely mortally wounded in this-"

"It was just a flesh wound!" snapped Caesar irritably.

The man went on. "Ah, and delirious from his surely life-threatening-"

"I think I'll get up," butted in Caesar again as he shuffled and tried to disentangle himself.

The man rolled his eyes. "And just as our great dictator was about to pull through..." I suddenly caught the glint of silver as the man produced a dagger from inside his robes, "Lord Pluto himself reached out with his icy hand to claim him!" and with that, the man drove the dagger into the dictator's back.

The other men suddenly rushed over, drawing their own weapons and began stabbing the fallen man in various spots.

The look on Caesar's face, as well as I could see it, was not one of pain but rather total bewilderment. If I didn't know better, I would say that the overwhelming emotion was incredible irritation.

Another man reached down and drove a dagger into the fallen leader's body just as Caesar raised a weak hand up.

"Et tu, Brut-AACHKK!"

The group of assailants backed off, leaving the fallen man in a pool of blood. They regarded him and then seemed to dust themselves down, as if glad of a job well done.

My sword hung limply at my side as my father and I stood in stark disbelief.

"Well..." said my father after a moment. "It's a bit difficult to know what to say..."

I simply nodded slowly in agreement.

Hippolytus coughed and nudged me with his shoulder. I flinched and looked back at him, "Hm?"

He nodded at Caesar's body as the other men backed away. "Do you not think it wise to..." he trailed off, nodding again at the body.

I caught his meaning but was still a little too stunned to speak. I walked over and bent down, gingerly reaching into the pouch on Caesar's, belt and found the stolen shard, quickly tucking it into my robes.

And it was in that instant that the sound clattering of armor filled the chamber.

The senators looked up and then whipped their arms behind their backs to conceal their daggers.

My head snapped round to the doorway just as Caesar's personal guard poured onto the stage area.

They all halted dead in utter shock as their eyes fell on their fallen leader.

I followed the soldiers' gazes as they went questioningly to the men at the back of the room.

The politicians' backs were rigid and they spared each other a glance and suddenly, in perfect synchronization, I found twelve fingers pointing eagerly in my direction.

I followed the gazes of soldiers again as they went back to me, then to Caesar, and finally to the bloodied sword I held in my hand.

I looked at my sword, down to the body in front of me and up to the troops.

In that instant I finally found my voice again, but all that came out was a resounding, and extremely exasperated, "Oh, come on!"

My father stepped quickly forward and rested a hand on my shoulder. "Worry not; I will get us out of this conundrum. I know just what to say." I stepped back readily, deferring to his thousands of years of experience.

He raised his hands and turned to the troops.

"Gentlemen...This is not what it looks like."

Extreme restraint stopped me from facepalming myself with my own sword.

"If it is the real assailants you seek, I think you will find that it was in fact the senators who killed the dictator, and not the stranger holding the sword over his body."

The guards froze and just regarded him with very blank expressions.

Hippolytus turned back to me. "You know, I'm not entirely sure they believed me."

"NAH!" I bellowed, "What ever gave you that idea?"

One of the senators, taking the initiative, pointed a shaking finger at us and commanded as loudly as possible, "Kill them!"

This obviously seemed like a perfectly stellar idea to the guards, as they immediately prepared to rush us.

Snap out of it!

"You go right, I'll go left!" I shouted quickly, crouching slightly in preparation to spring.

Hippolytus nodded and complied immediately. Just as the guards took their first step we dashed off to their sides.

None of them knew where to look, so when we shoved them violently into each other they ended up in a tangle of clattering armor and flailing limbs.

We jumped back as Hippolytus looked up. "I see! And now that we have them flanked, we fight against our worthy foes to the bitter end!"

"No," I responded. "And now we run away."

"Run away?" he frowned.

"Run away!" I shouted and dashed for the exit.

"Run away!" he replied in hurried agreement as we bravely beat a swift retreat.

"After them!"shouted the senators. "Kill the murderers!"

We turned a corner as we sprinted through the corridors and passages that made up the theatre complex.

"We have to get back to the others and get out of here!" I said as we curved into the temple area.

"Yes, and then I think it best you answer some of my questions. As you might guess, I have many."

"Mortal danger now, answers later!"

He nodded his head. "Very well..." He skidded to a halt by an alcove. "A moment!" he said, leaning inside.

"What is it?" I said, looking nervously back as the sound of commotion started coming from all directions.

He emerged, his hands full. He tossed one of the long hooded robes worn by the priestesses over to me, "Here: disguises."

"Good idea..." I mumbled grudgingly as I grabbed the garment and slipped it quickly on.

My father pulled the hood of his chief priestess' robe up. "And now, I think, a brisk stroll outside."

I pulled my hood high over my head and we walked as calmly and quickly as we could in the opposite direction of all the shouting.

-?-

"So what do you think?" asked Percy as they leaned around the edge of the prison wall. "Front door?"

Aren glanced at the main entrance at the top of the steps. Her eyes flicked to the side entrance across the courtyard, judging the options. "We'll circle around by the main entrance and see if it's deserted; if not, we carry on around to the other way in."

"I agree,"said Theia quietly. "Basium and Complexo can hear quite a lot of commotion coming from inside; voices, all shouting together, orders for killing and pursuit."

"Then it would seem your friend has attracted attention that we could've done without," said Aemilia. "Best go in prepared." She unsheathed the short sword she had taken from the incapacitated guard.

"There's no need for you two to keep risking your lives," said Percy.

Aemilia rolled her eyes. "We're involved as it is. Besides, if I let Theia's friend in there get killed I'd never here the end of it.You think she's a madwoman now, you should see her when she throws a temper tantrum."

"I dispute the implication!"

"May we save this for another time?" interrupted the black cat tiredly.

His female counterpart stretched. "Yes. If we must carry on with this insanity, may we at least get it over with quickly?"

"I suppose we have no choice," sighed Aren, drawing her bow from her bag and grasping a pair of arrows as Percy drew Riptide.

Together, they edged along the side of the courtyard and towards the main doors, all knowing they might be heading into a veritable lion's den.

-A-

"Quick, it's out this way!" I said, breaking into a sprint now as the entrance came into sight. The noise of the guards was getting uncomfortably close.

We shot out of the doorway and into the light a second later and, to my surprise, went barreling into the welcome forms of Aren and Percy, who appeared to be in the midst of sneaking in the way we were coming out.

"What in the name of Artemis?!" moaned Aren as she pulled herself up.

Percy groaned as he staggered to his feet. "Did I just get floored by a monk?"

I threw my hood back. "It's us!"

Aren's eyes lit up slightly. "Armani, you made it! Did you find the shard?"

I whipped out the metal fragment and handed it to her so she could stow it safely in her bag.

"Why, Miss Aren, did you change your hair?" my father asked suddenly.

Aren frowned and didn't look up as she put the item in her pack. "What are you talking about? It's been like this for the past five-" She halted and looked up at my father. "You're talking English! But that would mean-"

"Yes, yes," I droned, switching back to Latin for the sake of our companions. "He's found his marbles. Now can we please get clear of here?"

Hippolytus reached inside his robe and pulled out a large bundle. "Here, I borrowed these. I think it wise we all disguise ourselves until we get to reasonable safety."

The others looked at each other in confusion, but complied anyway. "I don't see what the rush is. We dealt with the guard in the jail, so we should be okay until we get away," said Aren as she pulled her hood up.

I glanced back nervously. "Ahh, about that...Things have taken, shall we say, a slightly more serious turn in recent moments."

Percy flipped up his hood. "What do you mean? Did you have some trouble getting back the-"

He was abruptly cut off, when a shrill female voice echoed from inside the theatre. "By the gods! Caesar is dead!"

The others went quiet, their heads turning towards the voice.

Very slowly, they turned back to me again.

"Ummmm..." I managed.

"Armani!" gasped Aren in disbelief.

"Hey!" I objected. "Don't look at me! I didn't do it."

"He speaks the truth. It was not he who killed Caesar," Hippolytus confirmed calmly.

"Armani..." Aren repeated in a low, suspicious tone.

"Hey! He said it wasn't me!"

"Indeed, the fatal blow came from the senators. In fact, Armani only stabbed him once."

"Armani!" snapped Aren again.

"Aren, stop saying my name! Father, not helping!"

"Caesar is dead," mumbled Theia to herself, though if she was startled by the revelation then she hid it brilliantly well.

"Regardless," I said. "We need to get out of here, fast. We can talk it through later."

I noticed Aemilia was looking past us, her hood down as she frowned at something. "What do you suppose she's looking at?"

I could hear guards running into the corridors nearby. I fixed my hood and turned around to look out into the courtyard at whatever Aemilia had sighted.

And then, despite the fact that automobiles would not be invented for an extremely long time, I experienced a perfect 'Deer in headlights' moment.

Standing perfectly still in the middle of the square, gaze fixed on the silver bow in Aren's hand, was a familiar hooded figure.

To be continued…