The Burning Maze (The Trials of Apollo #3)

I’ll never leave you

Love will keep us together

Or glue. Glue works too





Some of my best friends are magic horses.

Arion, the swiftest steed in the world, is my cousin, though he rarely comes to family dinners. The famous winged Pegasus is also a cousin – once removed, I think, since his mother was a gorgon. I’m not sure how that works. And, of course, the sun horses were my favourite steeds – though, thankfully, none of them talked.

Incitatus, however?

I didn’t like him much.

He was a beautiful animal – tall and muscular, his coat gleaming like a sunlit cloud. His silky white tail swished behind him as if daring any flies, demigods or other pests to approach his hindquarters. He wore neither tack nor saddle, though golden horseshoes gleamed on his hooves.

His very majesty grated on me. His jaded voice made me feel small and unimportant. But what I really hated were his eyes. Horse eyes should not be so cold and intelligent.

‘Climb on,’ he said. ‘My boy is waiting.’

‘Your boy?’

He bared his marble-white teeth. ‘You know who I mean. Big C. Caligula. The New Sun who’s gonna eat you for breakfast.’

I sank deeper into the sofa cushions. My heart pounded. I had seen how fast Incitatus could move. I didn’t like my chances against him alone. I would never be able to fire an arrow or strum a tune before he kicked my face in.

This would have been an excellent time for a surge of godly strength, so I could throw the horse out of the window. Alas, I felt no such energy within me.

Nor could I expect any backup. Piper groaned, twitching her fingers. She looked half-conscious at best. Crest whimpered and tried to curl into a ball to escape the bullying of the winged shoes.

I rose from the couch, clenched my hands into fists and forced myself to look Incitatus in the eye.

‘I’m still the god Apollo,’ I warned. ‘I’ve faced two emperors already. I beat them both. Don’t test me, horse.’

Incitatus snorted. ‘Whatever, Lester. You’re getting weaker. We’ve been keeping an eye on you. You’ve got hardly anything left. Now quit stalling.’

‘And how will you force me to come with you?’ I demanded. ‘You can’t pick me up and throw me on your back. You have no hands! No opposable thumbs! That was your fatal mistake!’

‘Yeah, well, I could just kick you in the face. Or …’ Incitatus nickered – a sound like someone calling their dog.

Wah-Wah and two of his guards slunk into the room. ‘You called, Lord Stallion?’

The horse grinned at me. ‘I don’t need opposable thumbs when I’ve got servants. Granted, they’re lame servants that I had to chew free from their own zip ties –’

‘Lord Stallion,’ Wah-Wah protested. ‘It was the ukulele! We couldn’t –’

‘Load ’em up,’ Incitatus ordered, ‘before you put me in a bad mood.’

Wah-Wah and his helpers threw Piper across the horse’s back. They forced me to climb up behind her, then they bound my hands once again – this time in front, at least, so I could better keep my balance.

Finally, they pulled Crest to his feet. They wrangled the physically abusive winged shoes back into their box, zip-tied Crest’s hands and force-marched him in front of our grim little parade. We made our way up to the deck, me ducking under every lintel, and retraced our path across the floating bridge of super-yachts.

Incitatus trotted along at an easy pace. Whenever we passed mercenaries or crew members, they knelt and lowered their heads. I wanted to believe they were honouring me, but I suspected they were honouring the horse’s ability to bash their heads in if they didn’t show proper respect.

Crest stumbled. The other pandai hauled him to his feet and prodded him along. Piper kept slipping off the stallion’s back, but I did my best to keep her in place.

Once she muttered, ‘Uhn-fu.’

Which might have meant Thank you or Untie me or Why does my mouth taste like a horseshoe?

Her dagger, Katoptris, was in easy reach. I stared at the hilt, wondering if I could draw it quickly enough to cut myself free, or plunge it into the horse’s neck.

‘I wouldn’t,’ Incitatus said.

I stiffened. ‘What?’

‘Use the knife. That’d be a bad move.’

‘Are – are you a mind-reader?’

The horse scoffed. ‘I don’t need to read minds. You know how much you can tell from somebody’s body language when they’re riding your back?’

‘I – I can’t say that I’ve had the experience.’

‘Well, I could tell what you were planning. So don’t. I’d have to throw you off. Then you and your girlfriend would probably crack your heads and die –’

‘She’s not my girlfriend!’

‘– and Big C would be annoyed. He wants you to die in a certain way.’

‘Ah.’ My stomach felt as bruised as my ribs. I wondered if there was a special term for motion sickness while riding a horse on a boat. ‘So, when you said Caligula would eat me for breakfast –’

‘Oh, I didn’t mean that literally.’

‘Thank the gods.’

‘I meant the sorceress Medea will put you in chains and flay your human form to extract whatever remains of your godly essence. Then Caligula will consume your essence – yours and Helios’s both – and make himself the new god of the sun.’

‘Oh.’ I felt faint. I assumed I still had some godly essence inside me – some tiny spark of my former awesomeness that allowed me to remember who I was and what I had once been capable of. I didn’t want those last vestiges of divinity taken away, especially if the process involved flaying. The idea made my stomach churn. I hoped Piper wouldn’t mind terribly if I threw up on her. ‘You – you seem like a reasonable horse, Incitatus. Why are you helping someone as volatile and treacherous as Caligula?’

Incitatus whinnied. ‘Volatile, schmolatile. The boy listens to me. He needs me. Doesn’t matter how violent or unpredictable he may seem to others. I can keep him under control, use him to push through my agenda. I’m backing the right horse.’

He didn’t seem to recognize the irony of a horse backing the right horse. Also, I was surprised to hear that Incitatus had an agenda. Most equine agendas were fairly straight-forward: food, running, more food, a good brushing. Repeat as desired.

‘Does Caligula know that you’re, ah, using him?’

‘Of course!’ said the horse. ‘Kid’s not stupid. Once he gets what he wants, well … then we part ways. I intend to overthrow the human race and institute a government by the horses, for the horses.’

‘You … what?’

‘You think equine self-governance is any crazier than a world ruled by the Olympian gods?’

‘I never thought about it.’

‘You wouldn’t, would you? You, with your bipedal arrogance! You don’t spend your life with humans constantly expecting to ride you or have you pull their carts. Ah, I’m wasting my breath. You won’t be around long enough to see the revolution.’

Oh, reader, I can’t express to you my terror – not at the idea of a horse revolution, but at the thought that my life was about to end! Yes, I know mortals face death, too, but it’s worse for a god, I tell you! I’d spent millennia knowing I was immune to the great cycle of life and death. Then suddenly I find out – LOL, not so much! I was going to be flayed and consumed by a man who took his cues from a militant talking horse!

As we progressed down the chain of super-yachts, we saw more and more signs of recent battle. Boat twenty looked like it had been struck repeatedly with lightning. Its superstructure was a charred, smoking ruin, the blackened upper decks spackled with fire-extinguisher foam.