The Secret Fire Read online

  “No, Father, please!” Pyrrha cried. She squirmed, trying to get free. “Do not do this. I beg of you.”

  I was surprised that he’d acted so quickly. I guess I’d expected a villain’s speech, something grandiose and insane. That always happens in the movies. But as soon as Ricardo had grabbed the urn of Faith, he uncorked it.

  We’d failed.

  21

  Jax

  It was happening. Really happening. Ricardo was opening the urn of Faith.

  My knees went weak. I felt sick to my stomach. I knew what was about to be unleashed. Upon Ethan. Tyler. Me. We were going to be zombified, just like rest of the brainwashed followers. Mindless servants. Soulless robots. Tyler would never finish designing Cyclopsville. Ethan would stop sharing his factoids. And I’d never ride my bike again. Or lie in bed and read my travel books. Or eat breakfast with my mom at the Chatham Diner. I’d stop being Jax.

  “Run!” I told my cousins. I tried to twist out of the blue suit’s grip but couldn’t. “Run!” But Ethan and Tyler didn’t run. They didn’t try to fight their way past the two guys who guarded the door. They just stood there, watching Ricardo. Ethan looked terrified as he stared at the urn in Ricardo’s hand, but he didn’t leave Tyler’s side. And Tyler, well, he didn’t look scared. He didn’t even flinch. Half his mouth curled in a weird smile.

  “Bring it on,” he said like a superhero in a movie.

  My mouth fell open. Bring it on? Tyler had been attacked by the urn of Hope, but there he was, smiling as the urn of Faith was opened. And there was Ethan, standing perfectly still, not trying to escape. There was only one explanation.

  My cousins knew something I didn’t know.

  Silence filled the chapel as Ricardo extended his arms, holding the white urn for all to see. A whooshing sound emerged from its opening, quiet at first, then getting louder the way a train does when it comes down the track. The wind came next, rising from the urn in a single rope-like strand. The strand rose toward the ceiling, slithering like a snake. Then it split, forming three branches. I craned my neck, watching as the branches halted, then pointed at their victims. Not the blue suits, for they’d already been attacked. Not Pyrrha or Ricardo. One branch pointed at Tyler, one at Ethan, and one at me. And then, like snakes on the attack, they slithered toward us. The wind got stronger. Ricardo’s fedora blew off his head. Wind whipped through my hair and stung my face as the magic came closer and closer. It would reach inside me and take all my faith. It would change me. Control me. “Tyler!” I cried. “Do something!”

  Even though I yelled at him, I didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He was holding the urn of Hope in his right hand. What would happen if two urns were opened in the same room? Would the building collapse from that much wind and magic? Would a giant sinkhole form or a mushroom cloud like you see in those old atomic bomb films?

  Would we survive?

  “Father!” Pyrrha cried. “It is not too late. Stop. Please.” I could barely hear her above the howling.

  Tears filled my eyes. The slithering wind was only a few inches away. My bones felt cold, like I’d been dipped in ice. Everything I believed in would be taken from me. What did I believe? I believed that Ethan and I would always be best friends and that we would grow up and do amazing things. I believed that it didn’t matter if you were a gamer geek, a science nerd, or a girl who liked to read travel guides, we all deserved to choose our destinies. And I believed that my family was the most important thing: my mom, my cousins, my aunt, uncle, and great-aunt, and even though I didn’t know him very well, my dad.

  The tendrils were about to touch us, when Tyler reached out his left hand. A flash of orange caught my eye. A flame flickered on Tyler’s palm. He was holding fire. How was that possible?

  Ricardo had also noticed the flame. His voice broke through the wind. “NO!”

  Tyler reached up and touched the magical tendril that had been coming straight for him. The tendril ignited and the fire spread, as if following a trail of gunpowder until it reached the urn of Faith. The wind disappeared and the urn erupted in Ricardo’s hands. With a cry of pain, Ricardo dropped Faith onto the stage, then staggered backward, knocking the golden mask off its pedestal as flames engulfed the urn. The fire grew larger, like a beach bonfire.

  The man who’d been holding me let go. I was free. Pyrrha was free too. The guys who were standing at the door looked dazed, as if they’d been sleepwalking and had woken up in a place they didn’t know. Ricardo’s face glowed as the flames danced in front of him. His eyes flashed red. “Hephaestus!” he cried, clenching his burned hands.

  “Now!” Tyler told Ethan. Tyler lunged forward and tossed the urn of Hope into the fire. The flames doubled in size. The stage itself caught fire and smoke began to fill the air. Ethan opened the leather bag and pulled out a small red urn. I guessed it was the urn of Love.

  A strangled sound came out of Ricardo’s mouth, not a word but a cry of agony. Pyrrha tried to grab his arm, but she wasn’t quick enough. Ricardo leaped off the stage and landed on Ethan. They both fell to the floor.

  Tyler and Ethan were trying to destroy the urns and the fire was the way to do it! I raced around the flames and jumped off the stage. Smoke stung my eyes. The blue suits seemed wide-awake now, no longer robots, because they hurried out the door, abandoning their former leader as they tried to escape the smoke and flames. Tyler was on top of Ricardo, trying to pry him free of Ethan. Everyone was yelling. Ethan wanted help. Pyrrha wanted her father to stop. Tyler wanted Ricardo to leave Ethan alone. But no one was paying any attention to the little red urn that had rolled into the middle of the aisle.

  I grabbed it.

  And threw it into the fire.

  The explosion was like a firecracker, the kind I hate because they don’t make pretty colors, just a big loud bang. Flames rose to the ceiling. Streamers melted. Wooden beams caught fire. The New Mount Olympus banner turned black and disintegrated into floating pieces of ash. There was so much smoke I couldn’t breathe. I started coughing.

  “Yes!” Tyler yelled. “We did it!” He started coughing too. The smoke filled the space until I couldn’t see Ethan, or anybody. I heard sounds of shuffling, heavy footsteps, more coughing. A low moaning sound might have been Ricardo, but I couldn’t be sure.

  “Keep low!” Ethan cried. “Smoke rises. Crawl toward the door!”

  I knew he was right. We’d practiced this emergency drill in our school back in Chatham. I fell onto my knees, bumping into chairs as I inched my way up the aisle. Tyler called Pyrrha’s name. Smoke billowed out the door, as if it also wanted to escape the inferno. Once I got through the doorway, I turned to find Tyler and Pyrrha crawling out. We scrambled to our feet and stumbled down the stairs. We made it outside, but the fresh air didn’t help my coughing, or my stinging eyes. There were about a dozen people in blue suits standing around. “Where am I?” one of them asked. “These aren’t my clothes,” another said. A few were crying.

  “Where’s Ethan?” Tyler asked. I spun around. The staircase was empty. Why wasn’t he with us?

  “Ethan,” I said, still not able to take a full breath. “Ethan.”

  “My father,” Pyrrha said. Her face was covered in soot and her dress was singed.

  “Stay here,” Tyler told us. “I’ll go get them.”

  “I’ll go,” Pyrrha said. “I am immortal. The fire will burn me, but I’ll survive.”

  “No!” Tyler blocked her with his hand. “You are not going back in there. Stay here with Jax. She needs you.” Then he ran back into the smoke. I leaned against a wall. Even though I wanted to help, there was no way I could follow Tyler. My lungs were burning. Pyrrha watched Tyler run back up the stairs, her hands clenched worriedly at her sides.

  “Tyler,” she whispered.

  I’d never coughed so hard in my life. My head felt like it might explode. My knees gave out and I sank onto the ground. Pyrrha knelt beside me. “Jax, what can I do? How can I help you?”

  Eth
an. Please be okay. Please be okay.

  And then he ran out of the building, smoke billowing behind him. His baseball cap was gone. But he carried two things. The leather bag and a golden mask.

  “Jax,” he said, falling to his knees next to me. “I got it. We can prove your father didn’t steal it.” He set the mask on my lap. “Jax, are you okay? Can you hear me?”

  “Tyler,” I said.

  “Tyler’s fine,” Ethan told me. “I ran into him on the stairs. He said he’d follow me.” Ethan turned around, looking toward the building. “Wait a minute. He was right behind me. Where is he? Oh my God, he’s still inside!”

  “Jax.” Pyrrha clutched my shoulders and shook me. “Why are your eyes closed? Jax, can you hear me?” But I couldn’t answer. I fell over on my side.

  A siren wailed in the distance.

  22

  Tyler

  Welcome back to the Game.

  You are logged in as Tyler. You are seventeen years old. Energy levels are nearly depleted, due to having engaged in hand-to-hand combat with an immortal from the Realm of the Gods. You are also suffering from moderate smoke inhalation and second-degree burns on four fingers. Your adrenal levels are off the chart.

  Also, your hair is singed beyond repair. You will require a haircut.

  Current status: You have emerged from a burning building, victorious. With the help of your teammates and Hephaestus’s flame, you have successfully destroyed the urn of Hope, the urn of Faith, and the urn of Love. Ricardo’s followers have been set free.

  Your brother, Ethan, and cousin, Jax, are outside the building, awaiting medical attention. Pyrrha, the newest member of your team, is also outside. Congratulations.

  QUEST COMPLETED.

  Game Over.

  Pause.

  Game Over.

  Pause.

  Hello? You completed the quest. There is no need to do anything more. You are safe. You are a hero. You should not go back into that burning building. It is too risky. Ricardo is defeated. The Game is over.

  Pause.

  New Quest Identified.

  Objective: Help Pyrrha find her father.

  Restart Game.

  You are logged in as Tyler. You are seventeen years old and you are not thinking clearly!

  23

  Jax

  Three Months Later

  I squirmed in my seat, bored nearly out of my mind. My mom sat next to me. She was dabbing her eyes with a tissue. She was super proud of Tyler. I was proud, too, but I wasn’t crying about it. This ceremony felt like forever.

  Tyler and his two friends, Walker and the other guy whose name I could never remember, stood on the stage in the Chatham High School auditorium. The mayor of Chatham was giving them the Chatham Youth Brilliance Award. They’d finished their game, Cyclopsville, and it was getting all sorts of attention online. I think they’re going to make some serious money. Aunt Cathy said that the first thing Tyler should do with his money is to hire a housecleaning service to decontaminate his room. I agreed with her. Tyler’s room smells the worst. According to Ethan, it smells exactly like a Cyclops.

  After the whole urn thing was over, and we got back to Chatham, Tyler got real busy with his game, so I got most of the details from Ethan. All about traveling through the portal, and meeting Pandora and Hephaestus. And the Cyclopses. It was really too bad that none of the photos Tyler took had turned out. That would have made the most amazing photo album ever. But Ethan is pretty good with details, so he was able to describe everything they saw and did. Even though I was jealous that I’d missed out, I still liked hearing Ethan tell the story, over and over. In his award speech, Tyler told the audience that he’d met an actual Cyclops and that’s how he knew they had yellow blood. Everyone laughed because they thought he was making a joke.

  After the fire, I was taken to the hospital. Mom rode in the ambulance with me. She and Uncle Phil had driven to Philadelphia to find us. Turns out my father, Isaac Romero, had gotten my email. And because he’s allowed to make an occasional phone call, he’d called my mom and told her where I was. That’s why she and Uncle Phil had raced to Eastern State Penitentiary. During the fire, they’d been stuck out on the sidewalk with all the other people who’d been invited to Ricardo’s grand reopening ceremony. But when the urn of Faith was destroyed, all the guards came out of their trances and stopped blocking the gate and the red door. My mom and Uncle Phil ran inside and started looking for us.

  I remember a few things about the first day at the hospital. Aunt Cathy had been at a conference, but she arrived only a few hours after me. I got an IV, which was gross because that needle is big and they stick it right into your vein. I also got oxygen and I felt better right away.

  Nobody knows this fact, but Tyler went back into the burning building and saved Ricardo. Well, when I say nobody, I mean that the world doesn’t know. Only Tyler, Ethan, Pyrrha, Ricardo, and I know the truth. Tyler risked his life for Pyrrha. He’s had a huge crush on her since he first saw her in that parking lot outside Merlin’s Comics. But he also did it because he’s a good person. It didn’t matter how evil Ricardo had been, Tyler couldn’t ignore the fact that Ricardo was lying on the floor, too weak and confused to escape.

  So Tyler went in, and carried Ricardo to safety.

  Ethan and I have talked about it a lot and this is what we think happened. When Ricardo opened those urns so long ago, they took hope, faith, and love from him, which explained why he became such a mean, horrid man. Why he left his family. Why he wanted to rule the world. But after the urns were destroyed, Ricardo was overwhelmed by the return of his feelings, and he collapsed. When Tyler brought him out of the fire, Ricardo was weak, barely conscious. But he managed to thank Tyler, and to hug Pyrrha.

  And Pyrrha hugged Tyler and told him that she could never repay him for what he did. He’d saved her family. Ethan said she kissed him.

  “How did she kiss him?” I asked.

  “On the lips.”

  “Yeah, but what kind of a kiss?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know, was it like a little peck, like it didn’t mean anything? Or was it passionate?”

  Ethan looked confused. His cheeks got red. “I don’t know. It was a kiss. A stupid kiss.”

  That’s how it was with Ethan. If he watched a science experiment, he’d remember every single detail. But a kiss wasn’t interesting to him.

  We searched online and printed all the newspaper articles about the fire. The cause was officially listed as unknown, but arson was suspected. The popular theory was that one of the cult members set the fire. That’s what the newspaper called The New Mount Olympus Corporation—a cult. There was zero mention of any urns. They’d turned to ash. They couldn’t hurt anyone ever again.

  And all those people who’d been brainwashed, well, they also came out of their trances.

  Newspapers reported that the cult leader, Ricardo, had disappeared. There was a warrant for his arrest. And there was a lot to sort out as those ex-followers tried to go back to living normal lives. Some of them had already gotten their money and property back. But for others, it would take time. The museum staff tried to reconnect people with their clothing. I got my purple jacket back. My lucky jacket.

  Tyler wasn’t the only one who saved someone’s father that day. Ethan saved mine. The Mask of Agamemnon that had been sitting on that stage was the same mask that had been stolen from Athens. Police records were reexamined and security footage clearly showed Ricardo walking through the museum before the theft. It took a few months, but my father’s arrest was overturned, and he was released. He talked to my mom on the phone. She made me go outside so they could talk in private. I’m not sure what was said, but she cried after the call. She said it was a lot for her to process and we’d discuss it later. I couldn’t tell if she was happy or sad. Maybe both.

  The Chatham Youth Brilliance Award ceremony was almost over. Tyler finished his speech. I nudged Ethan. We shared a giggle because our gre
at-aunt Juniper had started to snore. She was sitting on the other side of Ethan. Juniper wasn’t being rude. She was still healing from her stroke. Her brain was back to normal, but she still needed a cane to walk and she sometimes got sleepy in the middle of the day. The doctor said she’d get her energy back. But she might have the limp for a while. She’d moved in with Mom and me and we were becoming a family again. Ethan and I told Juniper everything that had happened after she’d had her stroke. She was so proud of us for destroying the urns. But we decided it was best not to tell Mom or Uncle Phil or Aunt Cathy. Or anyone else. So Tyler came up with a more believable story.

  He said that after coming out of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, we drove to Boston Common, to have dinner, but we had some car trouble. Then, while minding our own business, we were taken hostage by Ricardo and driven to Eastern State Penitentiary, where he was going to brainwash us into joining his cult. I managed to send an email to my father, asking for help. But why, our parents asked, didn’t I send an email to one of them? Well, that’s where Tyler’s story goes a bit fuzzy. So when our parents and the police started asking us for more details, we simply acted confused and said we couldn’t remember everything. Aunt Cathy has a degree in psychology and she said we all have post-traumatic stress disorder and it might be years before our memories return. If ever. That works for me!

  Besides, Tyler’s story made so much more sense than the real story. Especially because we had zero proof. The urns were gone. And Pyrrha and Ricardo had taken the leather bag and had returned to their world, where they belonged.

  I knew Tyler missed her, but you couldn’t tell at that moment. Up on stage, he, Walker, and the other dude bowed. Everyone applauded. Then, after some photos, Tyler joined us outside the auditorium. The trophy was his biggest yet. “We’ll have to build a new shelf in the trophy room,” Uncle Phil joked. Actually, it wasn’t a joke. They had an entire wall for Tyler’s trophies.