The Secret Fire (5 page)

S
omeone 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 stepped 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.

But the moment disappeared. “Jacqueline's mother should not have allowed her to travel all this way without supervision,” he said. “Her fate is sealed.”

I glared at him as hard as I could. “Why are we here? Why are we in this museum?”

“You are standing in my latest acquisition,” he said, tucking Ethan's phone into his pocket.

Acquistion? Why would someone sell a museum to Ricardo? But then I guessed the answer. He probably didn't buy it. He probably took it. With the urn of Faith, he could convince anyone to do anything. What was next? The Grand Canyon? The White House? What was the Paris Operation he
asked about? Was he buying the Eiffel Tower? He'd had the urn for many years. What other places had he
acquired
?

He adjusted his fedora. “I would give you a tour but I am not a tour guide,” he told me, his upper lip curling into a sneer. “There are other matters to which I must attend. Pyrrha, you will join me.”

“Yes, Father, I would like that,” she said.

“As for you, Jacqueline, my driver, Timothy, will take you to a room where you will wait. If your cousins do as I have instructed, you will be free to go at eight a.m. If not, then I have . . .” He bent close and whispered, “. . .
other plans for you
.”

I tried not to flinch. Tried not to blink as he looked deep into my eyes. But I failed.

He motioned at the driver, who'd been standing silently in the shadows. Then the two men held open a pair of double doors, and Ricardo entered the long building.

Pyrrha gave me a worried look.
I'll find you
, she mouthed at me. Then she followed her father.

He has
other plans
for me? I don't think so.

As soon as Ricardo, Pyrrha, and the two men were out of sight, I ran toward the red door.

        
FACT:
According to the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle, “time” is defined by change and movement. Where there is change taking place, there is time. Where there is movement, there is time. Everything that comes to be or ceases to be exists in time.

But the gods are never changing and eternal, and thus exist outside time.

I
was standing outside the tunnel, facing a field. Long stalks of purple lavender waved in the breeze,
beneath a sky that was as blue as an Easter egg. Tyler stood next to me.

“Wow,” he said.

“Wow,” I echoed. There was no doubt in my mind. We were no longer in Boston.

“This place is amazing.” Tyler laughed. “Give me my phone.”

“But there's no signal,” I told him.

“I'm gonna take pictures. Give it to me.” He grabbed the phone from my pocket and started walking into the field, snapping photos of the sky, the grass, the trees. “Look at these colors!”

Everyone would think he'd photoshopped the pictures because the colors were much brighter here than back home—more saturated, more intense. The trees had pure white trunks, and emerald-green leaves. Patches of cherry-red flowers and lemon-yellow buttercups dotted the landscape. And everything seemed to glow. No clouds marred the perfect sky, yet the sun wasn't sweltering, and it wasn't muggy, like the summers in Chatham. I realized I didn't have sunblock, which worried me because I didn't tan as easily as Tyler. But the good news was that even though the grasses were full of seeds, I wasn't sneezing.

“Hey, these are fruit trees,” Tyler called.

I looked around. Did I dare venture forth? There was no sign of other people. Or gods or monsters. Making sure the leather bag was secure, I headed toward Tyler. As I approached the first tree, I noticed an unusual sound. When the breeze rustled the tree's leaves, faint music was released. And when I took a deep breath, I inhaled air sweet with ripe fruit, like a pie baking in the oven. My worries began to fade away.

Tyler reached up and yanked a piece of fruit from a tree branch, then handed it to me. It was an apricot and its smooth skin was warm from the sun. Then he picked one for himself. “Wait,” I warned, but he'd already taken a bite.

“OMG. This is the best thing I've ever tasted.” A piece of apricot skin clung to his teeth as he smiled.

Something felt weird to me. Why did Tyler look so happy? We were in the middle of a huge crisis. I stepped closer to him and looked into his eyes. I thought about Odysseus, from the famous book
The Odyssey
. His goal was to get home to his family, but during his journey, some of his crew ate fruit that made them forget about going home. They were held captive by an evil enchantment. I dropped my apricot
on the ground. “Tyler?”

“Huh?” He took another bite.

“You look different all of a sudden. You look . . . happy.”

“Of course I'm happy. I'm in the Realm of the Gods, dude.
We're
in the Realm of the freakin' Gods!”

“I know but you're smiling like you're drunk or something.” I pointed to the apricot pit in his hand. “Do you think . . . ?”

“Do I think what?” He looked at the pit. “Oh, you mean like Odysseus?” He dropped it, then plucked another apricot. “I'm not under a spell. I haven't forgotten why we're here. I remember everything. Ricardo. Jax. The urns. Don't worry. I'm just savoring the moment.”

I sighed with relief. I was hungry too, so I picked an apricot. Tyler hadn't been exaggerating. It was like eating warm pie! The juice dribbled down my chin. “You know what?” I asked, looking at my shoes. “My pants and shoes aren't wet anymore.” They'd been drenched from the fountain but only a few minutes in this place and they were dry.

Tyler began to climb the tree. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“I'm going to get a better view,” he said. “Jeez,
Ethan, think of all the research I could do! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make Cyclopsville as realistic as possible. I need to take mental notes on the landscape, the architecture, anything that can be used in our game. And if I could see a real Cyclops, that would be killer!”

“Uh, that sounds dangerous,” I mumbled. Even from a safe distance, a real Cyclops could hurl a boulder at us. Or something equally deadly. “Don't they toss sheep in your game?”

“Uh-huh.” He'd climbed as far as he could.

“What do you see?”

“There's a house over there. A white house with a red tiled roof.”

“Is it a normal-size house?” I assumed that a Cyclops would have a rather large dwelling.

“Looks normal to me.” He went quiet for a moment.

“Tyler, how are we going to find Zeus?”

“Maybe we should go ask the person who lives in that house?” He looked down at me. “Or maybe we should just call Zeus's name. If he's omnipotent, he'll hear us, right?” Before I could answer, Tyler cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered, “Zeus!”

“Hey, I thought you wanted us to be quiet. We sneaked in here, remember?”

“I know but I've changed my mind. Zeus!”

I expected rumbling to fill the sky.

“HEY! ZEUS!” Then Tyler gasped. And pointed.

A woman had appeared at the edge of the field. Her long red hair blew gently in the breeze, as did her long white dress. She was looking straight at us.

“Who's that?” I asked.

“How am I supposed to know?” Tyler scrambled down the tree and jumped into the grass next to me.

The woman began walking toward us. It was a long distance to cross but it must have been some sort of optical illusion because she reached us in three steps. Her gaze settled on the leather bag that was still slung over my shoulder. “Where did you get that?” she asked.

The first thing that struck me was her voice. It was soft and comforting. I didn't know who she was but I instantly felt that I could trust her. But was this some kind of trick? I remembered the story of the Sirens. They sang so beautifully that sailors would forget themselves and try to steer their ships to get closer to the singing. Enchanted by the song, the sailors would steer into dangerous waters and end up dashed to their deaths against the rocks. Was she a Siren?

But the second thing that struck me was her face. She looked exactly like Pyrrha, only older.

“Are you Pandora?” Tyler asked. She nodded. “Wow,” he said with a goofy grin. “Uh, hi. I'm Tyler Hoche and this is my brother Ethan Hoche. I'm a friend of your daughter's. Well, we might be more than friends. That's up for discussion. But Pyrrha gave us this bag so we could come through the portal.”

“Pyrrha is well?” she asked, her eyes widening.

“Yeah, she's fine,” Tyler said.

Pandora's hand flew to her mouth and she gasped softly. Her eyes filled with tears. “I am so happy to hear this news. So happy.” Then she looked at the satchel again. “But why did she not accompany you?”

“She's with her dad.”

Pandora frowned. Her body stiffened. “She's with Epimetheus? That is distressing news.”

Tyler shuffled in place. “Yeah, Ricardo's not our favorite person either. I mean Epimetheus. He has two names so it's kinda confusing. One name for your world and the other name for our world. He probably chose it because Epimetheus isn't a common name back home. I bet most people couldn't even pronounce it.” Tyler was rambling. He seemed overwhelmed. I guess for him, this was like meeting a rock star. I thought
about speaking up but talking to strangers isn't one of my strengths. The whole eye-contact thing makes me super nervous. Tyler kept talking. “Maybe Pyrrha shouldn't have gotten into his limo but she's trying to help our cousin, Jax. Ricardo kidnapped her. I mean Epimetheus kidnapped her. Jax, that is. Not your daughter. He's trying to take over our world. He's . . . Hey, do you know where we can find Zeus?”

“Why do you seek Zeus?” she asked.

“We need to see him right away,” Tyler said. “We need to talk to him.”

“That is not advised,” she said. Then she stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Seeing Zeus would be to your detriment. Mortals are not allowed in our realm. If Zeus finds you, he will punish you.”

Tyler and I looked at each other. Pyrrha had failed to tell us that important piece of information. Beads of nervous sweat broke out along the back of my neck, only to be whisked away by the breeze.

“But Pyrrha told us to come here. Why would she tell us to come here if we're not allowed?” Tyler asked.

“My daughter will do anything to save her father,” Pandora said. “Even if it means putting herself and others at risk.” She looked over her shoulder. “Come, we must not let Zeus see you. You will be safe in my
home. Follow me.” She started walking toward the end of the field.

“Wait,” I blurted. Pandora turned around. Her gentle eyes settled on me. “If we're not supposed to be here, then I think we should go back through the portal. I think we should leave right now.” Zeus had a bad reputation when it came to punishment. I was ready to run back to that tunnel. And I'd set a speed record doing it!

“My daughter needs your help to complete her quest. For her sake, I will keep you safe. And I will assist you in the destruction of . . .” She pointed to the satchel. “The urn of Love.”

We hadn't mentioned the urn of Love, but she knew we had it. Had she sensed it, the way Jax had sensed the urn of Hope?

“You can rest assured that I have the same goals as you—to rescue our loved ones and to destroy the urns, once and for all.” Then she started walking again.

I wasn't sure what to do. Tyler set his hand on my shoulder. “She's as worried about Pyrrha as we are about Jax. She's promised to help us. Come on, let's go with her.”

Despite my trepidation, it seemed the logical
thing to do. But I was being asked to follow a total stranger, to her house, in the Realm of the Gods. We didn't know anything about her, except that she'd opened a famous box that had unleashed evil into the world. Would she really protect us from Zeus? There was no way of knowing.

I hate not knowing.

“Ethan!” Tyler called.

“Yeah, okay.” Clutching the bag, I followed.