“Wah-Wah?” Piper made a sound between a hiccup and a giggle, which may have been the effect of her bashed head. “Are you guys all named after guitar pedals? My dad has a collection of those. Well…he had a collection.”

Amax scowled. “Guitar pedals? I don’t know what that means! If you are making fun of our culture—”

“Hey,” Meg said. “You wanna hear my story or not?”

We all turned to her.

“Um, Meg…?” I asked. “Are you sure?”

The pandai no doubt picked up on my nervous tone, but I couldn’t help it. First of all, I had no idea what Meg could possibly say that would increase our chances of survival. Second, knowing Meg, she would say it in ten words or less. Then we’d all be dead.

“I got twists and turns.” She narrowed her eyes. “But are you sure we’re alone, Mr. Amax? No one else is listening?”

“Of course not!” said Amax. “This ship is my base. That glass is fully soundproofed.” He gestured dismissively at the ship in front of us. “Vector won’t hear a word!”

“What about Wah-Wah?” Meg asked. “I know he’s on boat forty-three with the emperor, but if his spies are nearby—”

“Ridiculous!” Amax said. “The emperor isn’t on boat forty-three!”

Timbre and Peak snickered.

“Boat forty-three is the emperor’s footwear boat, silly girl,” said Peak. “An important assignment, yes, but not the throne-room boat.”

“Right,” Timbre said. “That’s Reverb’s boat, number twelve—”

“Silence!” Amax snapped. “Enough delays, girl. Tell me what you know, or die.”

“Okay,” Meg leaned forward as if to impart a secret. “Twists and turns.”

Her hands shot forward, suddenly and inexplicably free of the zip tie. Her rings flashed as she threw them, turning into scimitars as they hurtled toward Amax and Peak.

THE children of Demeter are all about flowers. Amber waves of grain. Feeding the world and nurturing life.

They also excel at planting scimitars in the chests of their enemies.

Meg’s Imperial gold blades found their targets. One hit Amax with such force he exploded in a cloud of yellow dust. The other cut through Peak’s bow, embedding itself in his sternum and causing him to disintegrate inward like sand through an hourglass.

Crest fired his bow. Fortunately for me, his aim was off. The arrow buzzed past my face, the fletching scraping my chin, and impaled itself in my chair.

Piper kicked back in her seat, knocking into Timbre so his sword swing went wild. Before he could recover and decapitate her, Jason got overexcited.

I say that because of the lightning. The sky outside flashed, the curved wall of glass shattered, and tendrils of electricity wrapped around Timbre, frying him into an ash pile.

Effective, yes, but not the sort of stealth we’d been hoping for.

“Oops,” said Jason.

With a horrified whimper, Crest dropped his bow. He staggered backward, struggling to draw his sword. Meg yanked her first scimitar from Amax’s dust-covered chair and marched toward him.

“Meg, wait!” I said.

She glared at me. “What?”

I tried to raise my hands in a placating gesture, then remembered they were tied behind my back.

“Crest,” I said, “there’s no shame in surrender. You are not a fighter.”

He gulped. “Y-you don’t know me.”

“You’re holding your sword backward,” I pointed out. “So unless you intend to stab yourself…”

He fumbled to correct the situation.

“Fly!” I pleaded. “This doesn’t have to be your fight. Get out of here! Become the musician you want to see in the world!”

He must have heard the earnestness in my voice. He dropped his sword and jumped through the gaping hole in the glass, ear-sailing into the darkness.

“Why’d you let him go?” Meg demanded. “He’ll warn everybody.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Also, it doesn’t matter. We just announced ourselves with a literal thunderbolt.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Jason said. “Sometimes that just happens.”

Lightning strikes seemed like the sort of power he really needed to get under control, but we had no time to argue about it. As Meg cut our zip ties, Florence and Grunk charged into the room.

Piper yelled, “Stop!”

Florence tripped and face-planted on the carpet, his rifle spraying a full clip sideways, shooting off the legs of a nearby sofa.

Grunk raised his club and charged. I instinctively pulled my bow, nocked an arrow, and let it fly—straight into the Cyclops’s eye.

I was stunned. I’d actually hit my target!

Grunk fell to his knees, keeled over sideways, and began to disintegrate, putting an end to my plans for a cross-species buddy comedy.

Piper walked up to Florence, who was groaning with a broken nose.

“Thanks for stopping,” she said, then gagged him and trussed his wrists and ankles with his own zip ties.

“Well, that was interesting.” Jason turned to Meg. “And what you did? Incredible. Those pandai—when I tried to fight them, they disarmed me like it was child’s play, but you, with those swords…”

Meg’s cheeks reddened. “It was no big deal.”

“It was a very big deal.” Jason faced me. “So what now?”

A muted voice buzzed in my head. NOW, THE VILE ROGUE APOLLO SHALT REMOVE ME FROM THIS MONSTER’S EYE POSTHASTE!

“Oh, dear.” I had done what I’d always feared, and sometimes dreamed of. I had mistakenly used the Arrow of Dodona in combat. Its sacred point now quivered in the eye socket of Grunk, who had been reduced to nothing but his skull—a spoil of war, I supposed.

“Very sorry,” I said, pulling the arrow free.

Meg snorted. “Is that—?”

“The Arrow of Dodona,” I said.

AND MINE FURY IS BOUNDLESS! the arrow intoned. THOU SHOOTEST ME FORTH TO SLAY THY FOES AS IF I WAST A MERE ARROW!

“Yes, yes, I apologize. Now hush, please.” I turned to my comrades. “We need to move quickly. The security forces will be coming.”

“Emperor Stupid is on boat twelve,” Meg said. “That’s where we go.”

“But the shoe boat,” I said, “is forty-three, which is in the opposite direction.”

“What if Emperor Stupid is wearing his shoes?” she asked.

“Hey.” Jason pointed at the Arrow of Dodona. “That’s the mobile source of prophecy you were telling us about, right? Maybe you should ask it.”

I found that an annoyingly reasonable suggestion. I raised the arrow. “You heard them, O Wise Arrow. Which way do we go?”

THOU TELLEST ME TO HUSH, THEN THOU ASKETH ME FOR WISDOM? OH, FIE! OH, VILLAINY! BOTH DIRECTIONS MUST THOU PURSUE, IF THOU WOULDST SEE SUCCESS. BUT BEWARE. I SEE GREAT PAIN, GREAT SUFFERING. SACRIFICE MOST BLOODY!

“What did he say?” Piper demanded.

Oh, reader, I was so tempted to lie! I wanted to tell my friends that the arrow was in favor of returning to Los Angeles and booking rooms at a five-star hotel.