The Secret Fire Read online

  He was complimenting my dad? I hadn’t been expecting that reaction. “Are you telling me you set him up because he’s smarter than you?” His eyes flashed again and I cringed. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

  He sat back against his seat, crossed his right leg over his left, and gave me his full-on attention. I suddenly felt very small. “You are a talkative creature,” he said.

  “So I’ve been told.” I stuck my hands into the pockets of my purple jacket, so he wouldn’t see that they’d started trembling. “But I want answers.”

  Pyrrha was listening, but remained silent.

  A strand of black hair fell across Ricardo’s forehead. He pushed it aside. “The Locksmith was assisting Juniper, making it difficult for me to retrieve my urns. I needed to relocate him, so he could no longer interfere with my quest.” A pang of sadness hit me. Tyler loved that word—quest. Would I ever see my cousins again? Ricardo sneered. “I needed to eliminate him.”

  Relocate? Eliminate? “So it’s true. My dad didn’t steal anything.”

  One corner of Ricardo’s mouth turned up. Just a little. Just enough for me to know that he was proud of himself. He pressed his fingertips together. “How very easy it is to control the minds of mortals. When the Mask of Agamemnon disappeared from the National Archaeological Museum in Athens, it took little effort to convince the Athenian police chief to put a few fingerprints exactly where they needed to be placed.”

  Of course! Ricardo had used the urn of Faith on the police chief. He’d sent my father to prison.

  My face felt real hot and my vision got blurry as tears stung my eyes. Ricardo had ruined my dad’s life! My mom’s life! My life!

  Pyrrha reached out to touch my shoulder but I pulled away. I stared out the window. We were still on the freeway. It was starting to get dark. I’d missed dinner and my stomach felt hollow. How long had we been driving? I wasn’t wearing a watch and couldn’t check the time on Ethan’s phone.

  I rested my head against the glass. At the first chance, I’d make a run for it. As soon as that door opened I’d bolt out of that limo at lightning speed. But if I had to defend myself, I would. When I was in third grade I went to martial arts camp. We learned a few things, like how to do a roundhouse kick. And we learned that there are three places on the body that are super vulnerable: the eyeballs, throat, and crotch. If I had to poke Ricardo in the eyes, I would. Even though that sounded gross. I’d do whatever it took.

  But would Pyrrha try to stop me? Was she really on her dad’s side? Was she willing to help him take over the world or was she just trying to save him? I had no idea. I didn’t want to hurt her but if she got in my way . . .

  If you push a wolf into a corner, you’re gonna get bitten!

  I curled up in the seat, trying to get comfortable. What were Tyler and Ethan doing? Were they trying to figure out how to rescue me? Even if they had both urns, they’d never give them to Ricardo. That wasn’t even an option. Would they remember to talk to my mom so she wouldn’t worry? She’d be home right now, waiting for me to call after a long day of work at the diner. I thought about the diner’s pancakes. And the fluffy scrambled eggs and hot chocolate.

  My eyelids felt heavy. My head snapped forward. Crud, I’d almost fallen asleep!

  There was no way I would let myself fall asleep. I had to stay alert. Had to listen to everything Ricardo said. Had to watch where we were going so that when I texted Tyler and Ethan, I could tell them everything.

  But it was so hard to keep my eyes open. Maybe I could close them, just for a moment.

  Only a moment.

  8

  Ethan

  FACT: When people die and are brought back to life, they often talk about seeing a light at the end of a tunnel. Some believe that the light is heaven. Some say it has to do with the brain’s electrical impulses. When somebody is having a difficult time, they might get the advice, “Oh, don’t worry, there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel,” meaning things will get better.

  I’m not so sure about that.

  We stood in what looked like a long tunnel, but I couldn’t be entirely certain because it was very dark in there. A pinprick of light glowed at the end, far away.

  Here’s what I knew. My shoes and socks were soaking wet. And I could barely see Tyler standing next to me, but I could hear him breathing.

  “Where . . . ?” That was the only word I was able to utter. It felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach and I couldn’t quite find my breath. That one word echoed down the stone walls.

  Where? Where? Where?

  “We’re not in Kansas anymore,” Tyler whispered. Then he let go of the bag and whipped around. “Hey, wait a minute. What are you doing here?” His booming voice echoed so loudly, I winced.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “The bag was vibrating and I tried to hand it to you. And then . . .” I looked at my hand. “We were both holding on to it. Oh. My. God.” My heart started to pound in my ears. I’d gone through the portal. The portal!

  “You were supposed to stay in the park. This is supposed to be a solo mission. I can’t believe you messed this up,” Tyler grumbled.

  “I didn’t mess it up. You’re the one who forgot the bag.”

  “Oh really? Just like I forgot to fill the gas tank,” he said. I waited for the name-calling. Tyler preferred names that made it perfectly clear he believed he was my intellectual superior—moroon, brainsap, idjot were a few of his favorites. But this time he didn’t insult me. Instead, he cleared his throat. “Okay, so maybe I did forget the bag, but you shouldn’t have come with me. Jeez, Ethan, what’s going to happen if we both get stuck here? Who’s going to help Jax?”

  “I don’t know!” I yelled. “And stop yelling at me!”

  Me. Me. Me.

  I took a long breath. “I think we should stop fighting and figure out where we are.” We both turned and faced the pinprick of light. I swallowed hard. “What do you remember?” I asked.

  “The ground gave way,” Tyler said. “It felt like I was falling.”

  “Me too.”

  “Vertigo is a classic symptom of interdimensional travel,” Tyler said. “Or so I’ve read.”

  “Maybe we actually fell. Maybe we’re below the fountain.” I wanted desperately to still be in Boston.

  “You mean like a trapdoor?”

  “Yes, a trapdoor! Maybe we’re under the park. This could be a drainage pipe, or an engineering tunnel, or something like that.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” He handed me the urn of Love. “Carry this, will ya? It’s making me sweat.” Then he started walking toward the light.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to see what’s at the end of this tunnel. But keep your voice low. If this is the Realm of the Gods, we don’t know who might be out there. We’ll have to sneak in.”

  Was it possible to sneak into the Realm of the Gods? “Don’t you think the gods have special hearing powers? Besides, we want to find Zeus, remember?”

  “Zeus, sure. But I don’t want one of the monsters to find us first. Got it?”

  Monsters? Plural?

  As much as I didn’t want to reach the end of the tunnel, I didn’t want to be alone, either. I set the urn of Love into the leather bag and slung it over my shoulder. Then I followed my brother.

  The tunnel went on forever. The light didn’t seem to get any bigger. It was difficult to see and I kept tripping over stones. “You’re walking too fast,” I whispered. I thought about using the flashlight app on Tyler’s phone, but I didn’t want to attract any attention. Our wet sneakers made annoying squelching sounds but there was no way we could walk barefoot over the stones. My breathing began to sound wheezy. There was probably a lot of dust in the tunnel. Or mold spores. Or vermin dander. My skin prickled at the thought. Throughout history, rats have been the deliverers of plague. Whether I was still in Boston, in a tunnel below the fountain, or at the entryway to the Realm of the Gods, I didn’t want to
run into any rats. Or anything else that might like cold, damp places.

  “Tyler? Do Cyclopses live in tunnels?”

  “No. They’re cave dwellers. Jeez, haven’t you been paying attention to Cyclopsville?”

  “What if this tunnel leads to a cave?” I imagined the Cyclops who ripped Acis apart and the torrent of blood that became the Acis River. It would be nice to have a river named after me but not under those circumstances.

  “Shhh,” he scolded.

  I couldn’t shake the feeling that something could sneak up on me at any moment, so I darted in front of Tyler. “No,” he said, pushing me behind him. “It’s safer back there.”

  He was right. I’d never been surprised by Tyler’s ability to win math competitions or gaming tournaments, but his courage during this whole thing had shocked both me and Jax. He’d sacrificed himself to the urn of Hope to protect us. And now he was leading the way, into the unknown. He’d either wind up at the end of a drainage pipe in Boston Harbor, or he’d step into a realm that wasn’t supposed to exist.

  We had no plan. That’s where it stood. We had goals—don’t let Ricardo get the urns, and save Jax. But how were we going to pull them off? If we couldn’t find Zeus, what would we do? Or worse, what if Zeus didn’t want to help us? He probably had a very busy schedule overseeing the pantheon of gods. We didn’t even have an appointment. If you want to see my allergist, you have to make an appointment at least six weeks in advance.

  My legs started to get tired. I checked Tyler’s phone to see how long we’d been walking but the clock wasn’t working. And there was no way to make a call because there were zero bars. No surprise. Without a watch or the sky, it was really difficult to know how long we’d been inside the tunnel. It felt like hours had passed.

  Finally, the light began to grow larger, and brighter. Tyler raised his hand to shield his eyes. Then the light seemed to envelop him and he disappeared. I reached out an arm. “Tyler?” I whispered. I took a few more steps, reaching, hoping to find Tyler’s shoulder. But there was nothing. Had he fallen off a ledge? Or into the water? It was so bright I closed my eyes. “Tyler?”

  A hand grabbed mine and pulled me forward. I stumbled over a few rocks, then stopped.

  A warm breeze stroked my face and a lovely scent reminded me of summer. I opened my eyes.

  9

  Jax

  Someone nudged me awake.

  “Huh?” I said, sitting up. It was dark, except for the glow of passing headlights. Pyrrha sat next to me on the leather bench seat, holding a water bottle. We were still in the back of the limo. Grogginess immediately washed away as I was flooded with cold, hard reality. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Hours,” she said.

  “Hours?” I rubbed crust out of my eyes. “Where’s Ricardo?”

  “He is sitting with the chariot driver.”

  Finally we were alone. We could talk! “What happened to—” I started to ask but she put a finger to her lips and her eyes darted toward the glass barrier that separated the driver’s seat from ours. Ricardo could hear us. Of course.

  I groaned. I wouldn’t be able to ask her anything. However, with Ricardo up front, now was the time for me to contact Tyler and Ethan. I’d text them. Let them know I was okay. Find out what they were planning. But just as I reached for my phone, Pyrrha dropped her water bottle at my feet. She reached for it and as she did, she knocked my arm aside. “Oh, sorry,” she said. As she grabbed the bottle, she whispered, “He can see us, too.”

  The phone would have to wait. I glared at the dark window. It was a one-way mirror. We were caged animals, being watched by a zookeeper. Maybe Ricardo was asleep up there, but maybe he wasn’t. Did immortals need to sleep? Or eat? “I’m hungry,” I murmured.

  Pyrrha handed me a bottle of water from the minibar. “I am sorry but there is nothing more,” she said.

  I drank half the bottle. Staying hydrated would help me stay alert. I couldn’t fall asleep again and miss my chance to escape. I tried the door, just in case. But it was still locked. What was I going to do anyway—throw myself onto the freeway?

  I still didn’t know what Pyrrha was up to. She’d volunteered to get into this limo. She’d offered to help her dad. But at the same time, she hadn’t told him that she knew where to find the urn of Love. She was keeping important information from him. If she was trying to trick both me and Ricardo, did that make her a double agent?

  In a way, I understood Pyrrha’s loyalty. We might have been totally different in appearance and in mortality. We even lived in different worlds. But we had one thing in common—our dads were criminals. Well, mine wasn’t technically a criminal, but that’s what it said on his permanent record. Pyrrha had come to this world because she wanted to save her dad from the mess he’d created. If I could, I’d save my dad too. But that was impossible. I couldn’t unlock the prison and set him free.

  The limo slowed down and we turned off the freeway. I unbuckled my seat belt and knelt on the seat so I could get a better look. The road was called Benjamin Franklin Parkway.

  Philadelphia!

  We took a right onto Twenty-Second Street and drove past the Philadelphia Museum of Art. There was no traffic on the street so it must have been super early in the morning. I wondered if the museum had a statue of Zeus. Or if Ricardo had already destroyed it. If he wanted to erase Zeus, he’d have to get rid of every piece of pottery, every painting, and all the books that contained references to Greek mythology. Then he’d have to go online and delete everything. Or change the definition of Zeus, so that when someone googled him, they’d get a brand-new meaning. But even if Ricardo did all that, he’d still have to wait generations for everyone to forget. Could he do that?

  It seemed like an impossible goal. But since he was immortal, time was on his side.

  We drove five blocks and turned onto Fairmount Avenue. One side of the street was lined with apartment buildings, all dark except for a few TVs glowing in windows. Probably people with insomnia. But the other side of the street was lined with a stone wall, too tall to climb over. It reminded me of the kind of wall that was built around a medieval fortress. I’d seen this wall in one of my guide books, highlighted as a place to visit, but I couldn’t remember what it was.

  Then the limo slowed. A sandwich board stood on the sidewalk in front of the wall. It read: Eastern State Penitentiary Closed for Repairs.

  A penitentiary? I’d never visited a prison until I went to see my dad. Was I about to visit another?

  I pressed against the window, trying to get a better view. The limo was idling in front of an entryway that was blocked by a metal gate. There was a red door next to the gate but it was closed. Two giant gargoyle statues perched above the gate, peering down at us. A tower rose behind them. This place looked more like a castle than a prison. Red lights flickered in the gargoyles’ stone eyes. It was some kind of camera or motion detector.

  The red door opened. Two men stepped out. They were dressed in blue suits and white shirts, and even though it was still dark outside, they both wore sunglasses. One of them walked up to the driver’s door. The conversation was muffled. Then the gate opened and the limo pulled into the entry. We drove under an arch, past a ticket booth and a big sign that read: Welcome to the Eastern State Penitentiary Museum.

  “What is this place?” Pyrrha asked.

  “I can’t remember,” I told her. “Looks like it used to be a prison but now it’s a museum.” I suddenly missed Ethan. He was always full of historical facts. He had the kind of brain that remembered everything he’d ever read. I couldn’t imagine having that kind of brain. It would be like a superpower. I wished I could google this place on his phone, but I didn’t want to risk it.

  We drove into an inner courtyard. The limo stopped; the engine shut off. Pyrrha and I looked at each other. I had no idea what would happen next. Would this be my chance to escape?

  The back door opened. Pyrrha got out, then I followed. My hands were shaking. I step
ped onto the concrete. My legs felt like jelly. The first thing I saw was a long building with metal bars over each of the windows. Was that where they’d kept the prisoners? Ricardo stood near the building, talking to another pair of guys who were also dressed in blue suits, white shirts, and dark glasses. Was that the uniform for the museum workers? It looked more like something an FBI or CIA agent might wear. My guidance counselor at school said I should consider working for a spy agency. I guess that was because I’d told her that I like to eavesdrop on strangers and try to uncover secrets about their lives. Hey, if someone is talking about a secret in public, I say it’s fair game.

  From the corner of my eye, I noticed that the gate had already closed. There’d be no escaping that way. But maybe I could slip through the red door.

  “You have the report?” Ricardo asked. “The Paris Operation has been a success?”

  “Yes sir,” one of the men replied. Both were standing like soldiers at full attention.

  “Excellent. And what about the preparations for the morning’s grand ceremony?”

  “Everything is in order.”

  “Very good. Follow me.” Ricardo began to lead them toward a set of double doors.

  Had he forgotten about us? What luck! I slowly began to back away. As soon as he entered that building, I’d run for the street.

  But as if reading my mind, Ricardo turned swiftly on his heels and strode toward me. He held out his hand. “Your phone. I will take it now.”

  I gulped. Did he have some sort of godly X-ray vision? “I don’t know what . . .” Then I realized there was no use lying. As I handed it over, I knew that I’d just given up my best chance at survival. And my only way to tell Mom I loved her, one last time. “Please,” I said. “My mom will be worried. Please let me go.”

  His scowl relaxed. His eyes warmed. My plea had touched him. I could tell! Behind his cold mask, behind his evil shell, was there a person who felt pity?

  “Please,” I begged again.

  “Yes, Father, please,” Pyrrha said.