The Immortal Fire

by Anne Ursu

  “Read this,” he said, his voice thick with import.

  “What is this?”

  “This is that play about Prometheus.”

  “A play? But—”

  “Char,” he said firmly, “read it.”

  Zee looked as excited as Charlotte had ever seen him. She opened up the book and started to read. “Zee, this doesn’t make any sense. Why don’t you just tell me—”

  “Yes, it does,” he said impatiently.

  With an annoyed glance at her cousin, she began to skim through the play. It started with Hephaestus nailing Prometheus to the cliff wall and going on and on about how much he didn’t want to do it. Then Prometheus went on and on about everything that had happened to him, and some other people went on and on about some other things. It was not a very good play.

  “Zee, we know all of this!”

  Exhaling impatiently, Zee grabbed the book. “You remember that Prometheus has the power of prophecy, right?”

  “Yeah, Mr. Metos said—”

  “Well”—Zee flipped through the book and settled on a page—“start reading here.”

  Charlotte glared at her cousin. She needed to remember to be equally annoying to him someday. “They’re talking about the downfall of Zeus….”

  “Right. And…”

  “And…” Charlotte skimmed along, wondering when Zee had developed such a sense of drama. And then suddenly her heart began to beat more quickly. Prometheus was saying that he knew how Zeus would be overthrown; he would marry a woman who would “vex him sore,” the Titan prophesied. Charlotte’s breath caught as she read the words that followed:

  She will bear to him a child,

  And he shall be in might more excellent

  Than his progenitor.

  With her heart fluttering, she read the passage again, then looked up at Zee and asked breathlessly, “Does this mean…?”

  “A son!” Zee proclaimed, eyes burning. “Zeus will be overthrown by his son, and Prometheus knows who he is.”

  The son who will overthrow Zeus. Zeus was destined to be overthrown by his son, just as he had overthrown Cronus and just as Cronus had overthrown Uranus. And—

  “The ‘secret son’ isn’t Mr. Metos’s son, Charlotte,” whispered Zee. “He’s Zeus’s.”

  “You don’t think that boy is…Zeus’s son?” Charlotte said slowly, barely able to believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. “The son of Zeus is named Steve?”

  “This is Zeus, Char. You know what he’s like with mortal women.”

  The son of Zeus. The heir of Zeus, destined to overthrow his father. In the myths, it was the only thing that had scared the god of gods. There was a prophecy that any son born to his first wife, Metis, would overthrow him, so he ate her. (Why these guys were always trying to get rid of their heir problems by eating people was beyond Charlotte.) He was about to marry another goddess, but there was a prophecy that any son she bore would be greater than his father, so he married her off to a mortal. But other than that, the son thing just hadn’t come up—at least, Charlotte thought it hadn’t….

  Before they could say anything else, the door to Zee’s room flew open and Mr. Metos came striding through, his face flushed, his eyes darkened. He slammed the door behind him. Charlotte’s stomach flipped.

  “What were you doing?” Mr. Metos gargled. She had never seen him so agitated. “Do you have any idea what you just did? Do you want to be set loose on the streets for anyone to attack you, is that it? And how on earth did you—”

  Charlotte tossed her hair. “So you’ve found Zeus’s son, huh?”

  “What—How—?” He looked back and forth between them, utterly bewildered.

  Until that moment, Charlotte had not been sure—it seemed so strange, so impossible. But there could be no doubt anymore; Mr. Metos’s reaction had confirmed it.

  “He is!” Charlotte exclaimed. “He’s the son of Zeus, and he’s going to overthrow his father.”

  Mr. Metos’s mouth hung open slightly. He began to say something and then stopped. “How do you know this?” he asked slowly.

  “We just do, Mr. Metos,” Charlotte said, folding her arms. “We’re very clever, you know.”

  “Listen to me,” he said, his voice suddenly urgent. “You must not let on that you know. Do you have any idea—”

  “Right, we know, Timon will feed us to a Hydra,” Charlotte interrupted. “What are you going to do with him?”

  Shaking his head and looking into an empty corner of the room, Mr. Metos said, “I can’t tell you that.”

  “He’s the weapon! You’re going to use him as a weapon!”

  “You want him to overthrow Zeus?” Zee interjected. “But why not just wait until he does? Why are you holding him hostage?”

  Charlotte looked at her cousin. He was right; it didn’t make any sense. If it was this Steve-person’s destiny to overthrow Zeus, why not just let him? It was just like the mystery of the Flame, it didn’t make sense, unless—

  Something that gives us power over Zeus.

  “You’re going to use him as a bargaining chip, aren’t you?” The words exploded out of Charlotte’s mouth. “You’re going to turn him over to Zeus to get what you want!” Next to her, Zee gasped. Even as the words came out of her mouth, Charlotte was horrified by them. “You’re holding a boy prisoner and you’re going to give him to Zeus! You can’t do that. He’ll kill him! Mr. Metos, he’s a teenager!”

  The expression on Mr. Metos’s face traveled somewhere from shock to resignation. He sighed heavily and turned his face back to them.

  “Sometimes sacrifices have to be made,” he said, his voice now very quiet. “I told you that.”

  “But…that was us sacrificing. Not sacrificing somebody else. Anyway, what are you going to do? Give him to Zeus and ask him, pretty please, to be nicer? You think you can take him at his word?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Metos said. “If we ask Zeus, or any god, to make an oath on the River Styx, the oath is binding. It cannot be broken.” He exhaled. “If you had the chance to sacrifice one person to save everyone else, what would you do? Like it or not, this boy is what Zeus fears most in the world. With him, we are extraordinarily powerful. Without him, we are”—he blinked—“nothing.”

  “But,” Charlotte protested, “what about the Flame?”

  “The what?”

  “The Flame of Prometheus.”

  Once again Mr. Metos looked genuinely shocked. “How do you—” He stopped himself, exhaling. “The Promethean Flame is a myth. It does not exist.”

  Charlotte looked at Zee out of the corner of her eye. The Promethean Flame did exist, she was sure of it. Why else would they be having the dreams? For once, they knew more than Mr. Metos did.

  “Why not just let him overthrow Zeus?” Zee repeated.

  “We have no desire to replace the rule of one god with another. We are trying to secure the fate of humanity. Better to control the god we know rather than allow the rule of one we don’t.”

  “But…is he even a god?” Charlotte asked. “His mother is a mortal, right?”

  Mr. Metos frowned. “We don’t know.”

  Zee exploded. “You don’t know? You don’t know? You’re going to hand him over to Zeus and you don’t even know if he’s Immortal? You’re just as bad as the gods! Treating people like pawns!”

  Mr. Metos almost flinched at Zee’s words. Charlotte had never seen him like this. He seemed to go back and forth from extreme agitation to something approaching blankness.

  “What does it matter what you do?” she asked. “It’s a prophecy, right? This boy…Steve…is going to overthrow Zeus.”

  “Do not take prophecies so seriously,” he murmured. “The gods believe in them, in fate, in destiny, because they do not want to think that humans have wills of their own, have the power of choice. But when Prometheus gave us knowledge, that gave us choice. It gave us what makes us essentially human, and independent from the gods.”

  “Then why—
”

  “Because Zeus believes it! He believes in prophecy and always has. He believes that there is order to the universe. He needs to believe it. Because if there is not fate, if humans have choice, he has no control over them, and then what kind of a god is he?”

  “So humans have choice, and you’re choosing to sacrifice this boy,” Charlotte said, her voice dripping with scorn.

  “I’m sorry you’re upset.” Mr. Metos paused. “Know that this is something…we’re not taking lightly. We have an opportunity to change the world, to ensure the very survival of the race—”

  These last words distracted Charlotte from her anger. “What do you mean?”

  Mr. Metos stiffened. “I am saying that it is worth a great deal to have some power over Zeus. Worth, even, the sacrifice of one person.”

  “That’s funny,” Charlotte sniped, “because I thought it was people you were sworn to protect.”

  After his outburst, Zee had been sitting in silence, staring at Mr. Metos, but as Charlotte’s words hung in the air, he opened his mouth to speak. “What if it were us?” he asked quietly.

  “What?”

  “What if you had to sacrifice us? To save humanity. What if Zeus said, ‘Fine, I’ll do whatever you want, just hand me Charlotte and Zachary.’ Would you?”

  For the third time that day, Mr. Metos looked taken aback. He regarded Zee for a few moments, trying to formulate an answer. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

  “I guess that’s our answer,” Zee muttered.

  Mr. Metos let out a long exhale and shook his head slowly. His posture sank and his eyes fixed on a spot on the ground. “Listen,” he said, his voice quiet and flat. “There is something I must tell you. I was looking for you earlier. I am needed in Greece, and I will be going soon. I want to stay here with you, but—you see, I am needed.”

  Charlotte felt another flare of anger. Wasn’t Mr. Metos needed to keep them out of the way so he could give innocent boys to Zeus to be murdered?

  “I think you should know,” he continued, his voice completely devoid of affect, “our satellite office there was destroyed.”

  Charlotte froze, everything in her growing numb all of a sudden. She stared at Mr. Metos. The office was destroyed—just the office, right? No one was hurt, right? But his expression told her the terrible truth. He was gray, his eyes dark, his whole manner like someone who had lost everything he knew.

  “What?” Zee whispered, his face white.

  “Yes, I’m afraid the building was caught in the crosshairs of a godly spat. It was an accident. Our losses were…great.” Mr. Metos straightened, and his tone grew businesslike. “I will be going, and several others. A few are staying—some junior Prometheans, Teodor, Timon, Alec.”

  “And Hector,” Charlotte added softly. Hector was in the infirmary; they would not send him yet.

  Mr. Metos gazed at her, blinking. “Charlotte, I’m sorry. Hector…did not survive his injuries.”

  A wave of horror smashed into Charlotte, knocking the wind out of her. She opened her mouth, but there was no air.

  “What?” Zee said. “He said he was all right.”

  “He would have said that. Hydra poison is insidious, I’m afraid. He knew that. There was never much chance,” Mr. Metos said. His face was completely devoid of emotion. “It’s a dangerous business.”

  No, no. Hector, who had been kind to them. Who was going to face his first Hydra. Who probably wouldn’t have been sent had most of the Prometheans not been in Greece, fighting the chaos the cousins had helped create. Hector, floating toward some nondescript door somewhere in London, headed for an eternity of nothingness. Or worse.

  “He knew what he was getting into,” Mr. Metos continued. “They all did. This is our charge. I know it must seem hard, and cruel. But Steve is all we have now. I hope you can understand someday.”

  A wave of hatred flew up in Charlotte, and she could feel it manifest in her face. A dangerous business…he knew what he was getting into…I hope you can understand someday. The world was falling apart, and all he could give them were platitudes. Mr. Metos was dedicated to saving humanity and at this moment seemed barely human.

  After that, there was really nothing left to say. His voice quiet and resigned, Mr. Metos gave them another warning about letting on what they knew, and about staying out of trouble, because he could not protect them anymore. Charlotte and Zee did not say anything, merely sat in silence as the world changed for them, yet again, and they made themselves, yet again, adjust.

  Charlotte felt tears spilling down her cheeks. There was too much, right now. So many Prometheans, gone. It was too much. And Hector…

  Time moved, but the cousins did not; they just sat thinking of life and what came after. Finally Zee said quietly, “Hector wanted us to find Steve, to help him. He knew he was going to die, and he wanted Steve to be saved.” He closed his eyes, then looked at Charlotte. “Listen. You heard Mr. Metos. Steve is all they have now. Charlotte, they’re going to give him up to Zeus. Soon. That means—”

  Charlotte finished Zee’s thought. “We have to help him escape.”

  CHAPTER 18

  The Great Escape

  TIMON HAD AGREED NOT TO THROW THEM OUT ON two conditions—that they stayed in their rooms, and that he could place a guard outside their doors. Timon was apparently very big on imprisoning kids. The best thing to do, Charlotte and Zee decided, would be to lie low for a couple of days. They did not want to risk trouble, because they could not leave—not without Steve. The Prometheans were going to bring him to his death, but what was the point of protecting humanity if you’d forgotten everything it was to be human?

  Their guard, a young Promethean named Leo, sat in the hallway outside their rooms, reading. And whenever Charlotte or Zee needed to go to the kitchen or to the other’s room, they had to knock on their door and Leo would unlock it and let them out.

  Sometimes they saw one or another of the Prometheans in the kitchen, and they all seemed to have the same expression on their faces—shock and resignation. Every time Charlotte felt sorry for them, she thought of what they were prepared to do. She had thought they were so noble, fighting the good fight.

  They did not see Mr. Metos, and Charlotte could not help but wonder if he was avoiding them, or if he’d already left. She didn’t really mind; whenever she thought about him, her throat tightened and her stomach began to burn.

  And then there was Hector. The door to his office was closed, locked. Was he across the Styx now? Was he fading already, or was there still some Hector left?

  They spent their time in near silence, Charlotte sitting on the bed while Zee worked on translating the book about the Promethean Flame. But it was not going well—it took him hours just to do a few pages, and there were lots of blanks for words he did not know. The book, so far, was not that illuminating—it was the story of the author’s quest for the Flame, and he seemed more interested in the details of his journey than anyone really should be. So the first chapter was all about the things he was packing. And on the second afternoon of their confinement, Zee was sitting on the floor, working, when he swore and slammed the book shut.

  “This is rubbish! This stupid git is telling me what he had for breakfast. Who gives a—”

  “Maybe you should skip ahead?”

  “I don’t know why I’m bothering. We know he doesn’t find it. All this book will tell us is where not to look.”

  “Well, that’s more than we know now.”

  “Right,” Zee grumbled. “Whoever this dream-girl is, she sure is stingy with her information.” He sighed and began to flip through the book aimlessly. “I mean—”

  And then he stopped, sucking in his breath.

  “Char, look!”

  With round eyes, he handed her the book. Charlotte looked down. On the page was a sketched-out map. Frowning, she studied it carefully. There was an ocean, a town, some mountains with a kind of structure on them—

  She gasped. “The map!”r />
  Charlotte had forgotten all about the map Zee had gotten in the mail, but it was of a place much like this one. He went rummaging through his backpack, then pulled out the scroll triumphantly. “Here!”

  They looked at the two side by side. There was no question; it was the same landscape. Suddenly Charlotte remembered something.

  “The last time I had the dream,” she said, “the girl said, ‘Do I have to draw you a map?’”

  Zee’s face darkened. “I’m beginning to really dislike her,” he said, his eyes scanning the page next to the map. Then he stopped, pointing to one word.

  Charlotte frowned. “Delphes?”

  “It’s pronounced ‘Delf,’” Zee said. “Delphi. The map is of Delphi, Char.”

  She blinked, letting this sink in. “Well, how in Hades are we going to get there?”

  At that moment they were interrupted by Leo’s voice echoing through the hallway.

  “You’re ready to go?”

  Another man said something inaudible.

  “I can come to the meeting, right?” Leo asked.

  The other man said something in reply. His voice was growing closer, but they still couldn’t make out his words.

  “Oh, come on!” exclaimed Leo. “I don’t want to miss this!”

  “I’m sorry,” the other man said, his voice now audible. “Timon says—”

  “Why doesn’t Timon come down here and play nursemaid for a while—”

  “Shh.”

  “Oh, who cares if they hear? They’re not going anywhere. Today’s the day, right?”

  Charlotte looked at her cousin, who nodded slowly. It was time to act.

  “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

  Charlotte let out the highest-pitched scream she possibly could. Within moments, the lock was turning and Leo had burst through the door. Zee, who had poised himself next to the doorway, whirled around and slammed a thick book on his head.

  Time seemed to stop along with Leo. Charlotte froze, unable to move. The Promethean’s hands flew to his head, and he yelled, “What the—!”