The Secret Fire (9 page)

“Touch that flame to the urns and they will burn, but only if they are together,” Hephaestus instructed.

At least we knew how to destroy the urns, but we still had the problem of getting the third urn from Ricardo. “Uh, I'm still wondering—”

A shuffling sound arose. I darted around. “They're coming back,” I said with alarm. The Cyclopses must have finished their meal because they were lumbering down the tunnel. A couple of them were gnawing on large bones. One still had a napkin tucked into his
leather apron. Another one belched and the scent of sulfur filled the cave.

“Time to return you to Pandora,” Hephaestus said. He raised his arms. Was he going to transport us again? I hoped so. Those Cyclopses were getting closer.

“It was very nice to meet you,” I said. Then I grabbed the urns and shoved them into the leather bag.

“Hang on.” Tyler took out his phone again. “Can I take a photo with you?” Without waiting for the god's permission, Tyler squeezed next to him, held up the phone, grinned, and snapped a selfie. “Awesome!” The flash caught the Cyclopses' attention. They dropped their bones and picked up speed. Even though they'd just eaten, they still looked hungry.

“Uh, I think we'd better go,” I said, clutching the bag to my chest.

“But I still have so many questions,” Tyler said. “I'm developing a game called Cyclopsville and—” One of the Cyclopses picked up a boulder and took aim.

“Could you get us out of here?” I pleaded.

“Good luck with your quest, boys,” Hephaestus said. “And good luck with the females!”

Tyler aimed his phone at the Cyclopses but I'm not sure if he got a picture or not because, once again, I felt the ground disappear under my feet and even though everything went dark, I knew we'd left the cave.

P
yrrha had the ability to sense the urn's location, so as we walked along a pathway, she was like a bloodhound following a scent. We stopped at the front door of a building, between blocks five and six. I checked my handy map. According to the brochure, this building had once been the prison chapel, but was now used for museum events.

One of Ricardo's followers set a sandwich board in front of the building.
Grand Reopening Ceremony
, it read. An arrow pointed to the front door. More followers were coming and going, bringing in
chairs, platters of food, stuff like that. My ugly blue suit was really coming in handy. No one paid any attention to me. A few bowed, but most were too busy. Pyrrha still looked like a Greek goddess in her embroidered tunic and sandals, but no one seemed to notice her, either. They were all focused on their jobs.

It seemed weird that Ricardo was letting Pyrrha walk around unsupervised. He totally trusted her. Or else he was testing her. Or maybe she was right. He was overconfident. That
hubris
thing she'd mentioned. He thought he could do no wrong. He thought he had everything figured out.

Well, not with Jax Malone around!

I followed Pyrrha inside. Flowers and balloons decorated the corners of the room. There were tables set up with pastries, coffee, and tea. I guess it's polite to serve your guests a light breakfast before attacking them with a brainwashing urn. Pyrrha looked around, then pointed up the stairs. We waited for two women to pass us. They were carrying folding chairs. Then we went upstairs.

The chapel was a small room with white walls and wooden beams that ran across the arched ceiling. There were no pews, but I imagined the
prisoners, long ago, who'd sat in that place, praying for freedom. The two women had joined three others and were setting up the folding chairs in tidy rows, facing the chapel's altar, which looked like a little stage. A banner hung across the stage:
New Mount Olympus Corporation.
A mountain with a snowy cap was the company logo.

Pyrrha stopped walking. “Is it here?” I quietly asked her. Then I noticed what she was looking at.

A white pedestal stood in the center of the stage. It looked like a column from an ancient Greek temple. A large, golden mask was perched on top of the pedestal. The mask was a man's face but it looked more cartoonish than real. His ears were small and roundish. His eyes were closed and his nose was long and thin. He was smiling, as if dreaming about something nice. Four men stood on the stage, two on each side of the mask. Even though they were dressed like everyone else, I could tell they were security guards because they wore earpieces and stood ready to draw their guns if necessary. Though I couldn't see their eyes through the dark glasses, they seemed to be staring straight ahead. That mask must have been super important. “What is it?” I whispered to Pyrrha.

She turned to me and frowned. “That is the Mask of Agamemnon.”

What
? I gasped. My father was in prison because he supposedly stole the Mask of Agamemnon. But there it was, in Ricardo's lair. I clenched my fists. Not only had Ricardo set up my father, he'd kept the stolen mask for himself. I wanted to scream. Wanted to punch Ricardo. Wanted to make him hurt as much as he'd hurt my family!

Pyrrha leaned close. “The urn is here,” she told me. “It must be behind the mask.” She climbed onto the stage. A guard immediately stepped forward.

“No one is allowed on the altar,” he told her in a monotone voice.

“But I am Pyrrha, daughter of Epimetheus.” She paused. “Daughter of Ricardo. He has given me permission to approach the mask.”

“No one is allowed on the altar,” the man repeated. Another guard grabbed Pyrrha's arm and
escorted
her off the stage.

When the guards had returned to their places, Pyrrha casually walked back to me. “The urn of Faith is definitely behind the mask. I saw it,” she whispered.

A tingle ran up my spine. It was so close. We could grab the urn and run down the stairs and out the red door. But how could we get past those men? They were beefy, that's for sure. The seams in their blue suits were practically ripping from their muscles. Had Ricardo recruited followers at a weight-lifting competition?

I looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to us. “Why this mask?” I asked. “What's so important about it?” Once again, I needed Ethan's factoid brain. Had he gone into the Realm of the Gods with Tyler, or had he stayed behind? Was he okay?

Pyrrha's voice was so quiet I could barely hear her above the sounds of chairs being unfolded. “Agamemnon was a very important king. A conqueror. My father admired him.”

I wanted to tell Ricardo that no matter how many people he brainwashed and controlled, no one in this world would ever really, truly admire him! “How can we get the urn?” I asked. “Maybe we can distract those guys?”

“Yes, a distraction.” Pyrrha's eyes sparkled. “When we were in the Museum of Fine Arts, I caused a distraction by pretending to be sick. It worked.”

I didn't need directions. I'd been in a few plays at school. With a huge groan, I clutched my stomach. “Oh, I'm sick. Something's wrong.” The guards didn't flinch. “Help!” I fell to the floor. The guards didn't even look at me. But one of the women who'd been setting up the chairs walked over. She knelt.

“Do you require medical attention?”

“No,” I said, getting to my feet. What was the point of pretending to be sick if the guards wouldn't budge?

“The one purpose,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah. The one purpose.” I straightened my suit coat. The woman went back to setting up chairs. “Now what do we do?”

Pyrrha's expression turned stormy. “We have come so far. We are so close to finishing the quest,” she said between clenched teeth. “These mortals will not tell me what to do.” Then she let out a huge, angry breath. With stomping steps, she climbed back onto the stage. “Move aside,” she ordered in a loud voice. “For I am the daughter of Ricardo and he has instructed me to deliver the urn.” Even though the guards loomed over her, she stood her ground.

One of the guards spoke. “Our orders are—”

“You dare to disobey Ricardo?” She pointed at him. “I am his daughter, and the one purpose is my purpose. Are you against the one purpose?” Emotion appeared on the guard's zombie face. He was confused.

“The one purpose,” he said with a bow. Then he stepped aside. But the others did not. Pyrrha raised her voice even louder. “I said that I am Ricardo's daughter and he has ordered you to let me pass!”

I scrambled onto the stage. I knew that if I touched the urn of Faith, I would feel its warmth, and it would get into my head. I would become its protector. I didn't want any more urns talking to me, controlling me. But this had to be over. I lunged for it. A guard blocked me. I bounced off him and stumbled backward. Pyrrha darted around the mask, her arms reaching. But a guard grabbed her around the waist. She threw a punch, knocking him on the shoulder. Then she broke away and did a roundhouse kick, right in his gut! He actually flinched. I wondered what kind of martial arts they taught in her world. Sign me up!

But the guards outnumbered us. They backed us into a corner of the stage. “I told you,” Pyrrha said, trying to catch her breath. “Ricardo ordered me to get the urn.”

“He has ordered no such thing,” a familiar voice said.

The guards stepped aside. Ricardo stood in the chapel's doorway. His fedora cast a shadow over his face but from the tone of his voice, I knew his eyes were burning with rage.

He slowly walked into the room, past the rows of chairs, until he stood at the base of the stage. “It is most disappointing that you failed my test,” he told Pyrrha. “Like your mother, you cannot be trusted. Seize her!”

Two of the guards grabbed Pyrrha by her arms. “RUN!” she yelled at me. But it was too late. I was in their clutches. And Ricardo was pointing at me.

“Soon,” he said, “you will join the others. You will exist only for the one purpose.”

        
FACT:
Transporting from one place to another place by means of magic causes dizziness and confusion. It can also be life-threatening, especially if you are being transported into a cave of flesh-eating Cyclopses. But once you rematerialize, and get your bearings, the dizziness passes. If you find yourself in the Realm of the Gods, however, you may still feel confused. It's a very confusing place.

W
e were standing in a field of lavender. The scent of warm fruit filled my nostrils, which was so
much nicer than the sulfuric stench of Cyclops burps. We'd left Hephaestus's forge and were back in Pandora's field. We needed to get home. We needed to destroy the urns and save Jax. The leather bag was in my arm, Tyler was a couple feet away. The trees were still heavy with ripe apricots, but something had changed. The sky wasn't robin's egg blue. The sun wasn't shining. Thick gray clouds churned and thunder clapped. “Pandora!” a voice bellowed. “What have you done?” The words shook the ground like an earthquake.

Zeus.

Pandora ran toward us, her dress rippling in the wind. “He comes,” she called, her eyes wide with alarm. “Hurry!”

Wasn't he supposed to be in a meeting on Mount Olympus? I started running. So did Tyler. Through the fear, I tried to pull my thoughts together. We needed to get to the portal. We needed to avoid Zeus. We needed to get back to our world. Like in a nightmare, my legs felt rubbery. Was I moving in slow motion? Why was it so difficult to run? Was it fear or some kind of magical spell?

A bolt of lightning illuminated the distant mountain range. Another bolt hit a nearby tree. A branch shattered.

“Tyler!” I cried. Tyler darted out of the way. A chunk barely missed him as it fell.

We'd almost reached the edge of the field where the terrain changed from grasses to rocky outcroppings. A series of stone hills ringed the edge. One had an opening. The portal's tunnel.

“Pandora!” Zeus's voice shook the ground again. I cringed. Did he always sound that angry? What would happen if he caught us? Mortals were not allowed in this world. Pandora had taken us to her home, had fed us, and had helped us. For our sakes as well as hers, we had to make it to that tunnel.

The wind began to howl, pushing against us as if trying to keep us from leaving. Pandora's hair whipped in rope-like strands. Another lightning bolt struck, cracking a tree in half. This was worrisome. Trees are natural lightning rods, but so are people. While it was possible to survive being struck by lightning, I really didn't want to add that to my résumé.

And then we reached it. I almost cried with relief. Pandora pointed to the leather bag. The golden trident was glowing. “You must protect this key. Do not let my husband have it. It is Pyrrha's only way home.”

“I will protect it,” I told her.

“Tell Pyrrha that I love her. Tell her to return to
me.” Her beautiful eyes filled with tears.

“We will,” Tyler said. “But, you know, I was kind of hoping that she might hang out a bit longer. I'd like to show her around. Take her to a—”

“Tyler!” I said.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. But what about Zeus?” he asked Pandora. “Will you be okay?”

“Hephaestus will distract him with a shiny new helmet. Do not worry.” Then she hugged Tyler and me. She smelled like ambrosia.

“Thank you,” he told her. “This has been the best freakin' day of my life!”

“Thanks,” I said with a quick wave. There was no time for ceremony, or the exchange of phone numbers. Maybe I could send a thank-you card later.

Then, with Zeus's bellowing voice filling the heavens, we ran into the tunnel.

Welcome back to the Game.

You are logged in as Tyler. You are seventeen years old. Energy levels are at maximum thanks to food and ambrosia supplied by Pandora.

Your teammate is Ethan, your younger brother. He is thirteen years old and recently suffered a nosebleed brought on by an overactive nervous system.

Status: You are mid-transport, between your world and the Realm of the Gods.

Possessions: Your phone, a leather bag, the urn of Love, and the urn of Hope. You also possess a secret weapon, hidden in the palm of your hand.

Your objectives: Unite the three urns, destroy them, save Jax, save Pyrrha, and end Ricardo's villainous reign.

And win the immortal girl's love and affection.

Restart Game.