“We’ve just met a lady from Microsoft,” Tyler told us. “We’ve got a conference call next week.” I have to admit he was looking pretty good for a gamer guy. Aunt Cathy had bought him a suit, and there wasn’t a single mustard or ketchup stain on it—yet. And his hair was washed and his face was shaved. If he wanted, he could probably be a model.
Then Tyler turned and his smile got even bigger. We all turned. A girl stood on the far side of the parking lot. You could see her red hair sparkling, even from that far away. “Uh, that’s our friend,” I told my mom. “We’ll be right back.” Then Ethan, Tyler, and I ran to Pyrrha.
“Hello,” she said. We all hugged her. She carried the leather bag with the golden Poseidon trident. “We departed your world so quickly, I did not have adequate time to thank you.”
“Does Zeus know you’re here?” Tyler asked worriedly.
“Yes. He has given me permission.” She smiled at Tyler. “Hephaestus threatened Zeus. No more thunderbolts or armaments from his forge unless Zeus promised to leave my family alone. Zeus agreed. Thus, my father is reunited with his brother and with my mom. And I am free to travel as I like. What do you think about Disney World?”
“Seriously?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Ethan said. “The crowds can get intense, and most of the rides are really loud. Then there are the lines, even for the bathroom. And the germs—”
“It’s a blast,” Tyler said.
He and Pyrrha were staring at each other and it started to feel weird. “Uh, I think Ethan and I will go wait by the car. See you later,” I said.
As we walked away, I turned back. And that’s when I saw it. I nudged Ethan and he turned. “See,” I told him. “That’s what you call a passionate kiss.”
“Oh,” he said. “Noted.”
I drove home with my mom and great-aunt Juniper. I sat in the backseat. “Who was that girl?” Mom asked.
“Pandora’s daughter,” Juniper said with a drowsy voice. Her head rested against the seat and she was starting to fall asleep again. “She’s immortal.”
Mom glanced at me in the rearview mirror. She gave me a knowing look. “Who is she really?”
“She’s Tyler girlfriend,” I said.
“Oh.” Mom smiled. “Well, I’m glad to hear that.”
It only took about ten minutes to get home. We drove mostly in silence, so Great-Aunt Juniper could sleep. One of her long white braids hung over the back of the seat. And her red bandana was slipping out of place. I’d fix it when we got home. I liked taking care of her.
A taxi was pulling away from the curb outside our house. A man was standing on the sidewalk. He had one small duffel bag that contained the items that were given to him when he was released from prison. He was waiting for us.
It had taken hope, faith, and love to finish our quest. They were the one purpose.
Acknowledgments
Huge thanks to Annie Anderson, historic site researcher at Eastern State Penitentiary Historic Site, for providing me with maps and photos to help ensure that Jax’s journey through the hallways and courtyards was correctly described.
And again, much gratitude to editors Melissa Miller, Claudia Gabel, Katherine Tegen, and the entire team at HarperCollins Publishers. I wrote this novel while trekking through the desert on camel, and my lovely editors never complained about the pages speckled with camel drool, or the envelopes filled with sand.
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About the Author
Before becoming an author, WHITAKER RINGWALD was certified as the World’s Greatest Snowball Maker and developed a nonstick peanut butter formula in conjunction with lauded Ig Nobel scientists. Whitaker spends six months of every year in a deep sea submersible trying to film live footage of giant squids. But giant squids are hard to come by, so that’s where Whitaker gets a lot of writing done.
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Credits
Cover art © 2016 by Erwin Madrid
Cover design by Joel Tippie
Copyright
Katherine Tegen Books is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
THE SECRET FIRE. Copyright © 2016 by HarperCollins. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2016930033
EPub Edition © June 2016 ISBN 9780062216229
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FIRST EDITION
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