by Vera Strange
“Help! Call nine-one-one!” he screamed to his family. “We have to get out! My room is on fire!”
“Hurry, call for help!”
Hector burst into the kitchen, shouting. His heart hammered in his chest. His lungs burned from the thick smoke.
His family turned to look at him in surprise. His parents were at the sink, working in tandem, Mom washing the dishes and Dad drying them. Juan and Luca played on their phones at the table while Phil finished clearing the plates.
“Uh, honey,” Mom said, pulling her soapy hands out of the sink and looking worried. “What’re you talking about?”
“The fire…don’t you see it?” Hector said. “The smoke?”
He trailed off and glanced back toward his room. The door gaped open.
But there was nothing.
No smoke. No fire. No voice.
He inhaled, smelling the air, but it was clear and unpolluted.
His family all shot him strange looks. Juan made a cuckoo sign with his fingers to Luca, making him crack up. Mom shot them a look that said—Hey, cut it out.
Dad wiped his hands on a towel and came over, pressing his warm hands to Hector’s forehead.
“Son, you feeling okay?” he asked. “You’ve been acting kind of strange since you won the race.”
“Yeah, like, stranger than normal,” Phil chimed in, setting down the dirty dishes he was clearing near the sink. “And that’s saying a lot.”
“Wh-what do you mean?” Hector said, his heart still thumping with adrenaline.
Phil scratched his head. He spent more time with Hector than the rest of the family. “Let’s see, like jumpy and agitated, but also arrogant and full of yourself. Total mood swings.”
Dad chuckled. “Sounds like typical teen stuff. Is that it?”
“I mean, he’s, like, twelve going on sixteen,” Mom added with a knowing shake of her head.
“Yeah, and he’s been talking to a girl,” Luca added, ratting him out. “I caught him texting her.”
“Me, too,” Juan added. “I saw his phone. Her name is Mae.”
Hector swallowed hard. He knew his moodiness was far more than typical. And it had nothing to do with texting Mae or normal teen stuff. He and Mae were just friends anyway.
No. What he was dealing with was not normal. He was seeing smoke and fires that weren’t there. Not to mention talking to demons. Hearing voices. There was only one explanation.
Hades was haunting him. Because Hector broke their deal.
Suddenly, upsetting the God of the Underworld didn’t seem like such a great idea. He should’ve given him the Zeus Cup.
But he couldn’t tell his family any of this. They were so proud of him. He couldn’t stand to disappoint them. Plus, it was unlikely they’d believe him. They’d just think he was going crazy.
“Uh, you’re right,” Hector said, forcing the lie out. “I’m probably just tired and stressed. There’s been a lot of pressure on me.”
Dad rubbed his shoulders. “Son, you just need to get a good night of sleep. I promise you’ll feel better tomorrow.”
He turned to Phil. “Will you help your brother get to bed?”
Phil led Hector back to his bedroom. “Hey, I know you’re going through a lot. But I want you to know you can talk to me. I’m here for you…always.”
Hector’s heart flooded with guilt. He hadn’t exactly been that nice to his brother today. They reached his room, and Phil helped him settle into bed. Hector slid under the worn sheets, still feeling totally unsettled. He felt…haunted.
“Look, I’m sorry I’ve been acting all weird today,” Hector started. “I thought winning the Zeus Cup would make everything better. But it’s all so confusing.”
“Well, it’s just a trophy,” Phil said. “I thought it mattered a lot, too. But what matters is that you worked so hard and earned it.”
That made Hector feel even worse. If his brother knew he had cheated to win…
“But I didn’t work that hard,” Hector sputtered, feeling his mood shift. “Listen, you don’t understand. I don’t deserve it.”
Hector’s words hung in the air. Phil gave him a look.
“You know, I never thought I’d say this,” Phil confessed, shaking his head. “Because I know I pushed you super hard to win the Cup. But I liked you better before.”
Hector felt like he’d been punched in the stomach.
“You mean, when I was a zero?” he snapped. “And nobody cared about me? You’re just jealous because I won—and you never did.”
Phil flinched, then just shook his head sadly. “Hector, you were never a zero.”
“Easy for you to say,” Hector shot back. “How would you know?”
Phil gave him a squeeze on the shoulder and met his eyes.
“Because you’ve always been my brother,” he said in a soft voice. “A true hero isn’t measured by the size of his strength—but the strength of his heart.”
“No, leave me alone!” Hector screamed, bolting up, gasping for air, and clawing at his throat.
That night, his dreams had been filled with fire and smoke and devilish voices. His last nightmare ended with a strange image—the moon, sun, and all the planets coming into perfect alignment, like a super eclipse.
He woke up sweaty and more tired than when he went to sleep. He squinted at the morning light flooding his little room. His lungs burned from breathing smoke, even though it had just been a dream.
Except, maybe it hadn’t.
Hector knew better now. Hades was real—and clearly, he wasn’t happy that Hector had backed out of their deal.
But the Zeus Cup was locked up at Hero’s. And his mom had the key.
There was no way he could take it back now. Business was booming at Hero’s ever since he had won the Cup. People came in just to take pictures of themselves with the trophy case, and inevitably, they’d end up browsing and buying something.
The image from his dream of the planets lingered in his mind. What did it all mean?
He slid out of bed and studied his reflection in the mirror. He was still possessed with superstrength, but his face looked haggard. Dark circles lined his eyes. His skin appeared sallow.
He looked haunted.
His body was strong, but he felt like he was losing his mind, and he didn’t know what to do about it. His family didn’t seem to understand. And he didn’t have any friends…except for one.
Mae.
Hector felt sick at the idea of telling her what he’d done to beat her. He mulled it over, watching his face in the mirror. He couldn’t go on like this much longer. He had to do something.
He had to tell someone.
And she was his only friend. What choice did he have?
Hector searched all over town for Mae, finally finding her at the place he should’ve looked first.
The track.
She was sweaty and running laps, training with hurdles. She leapt over them with a natural grace and ease that Hector envied. He dug out his camera from its bag and snapped some candid pictures of her running.
When Mae crossed the finish line, she doubled over to catch her breath. Hector stowed his camera quickly.
“Mae! Hi!” Hector waved to get her attention.
Mae looked up and her eyes narrowed. She didn’t look happy to see him, that was for sure.
“Hey there,” she said as Hector loped toward her. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were busy with your fans these days.”
“Oh, please,” Hector said. “I thought it would be so cool to win, but I can’t go one square block without getting stopped and asked for a selfie or an autograph.”
Mae scowled. “Yeah, sounds totally awful. I don’t know how you cope.”
Hector’s stomach sank. This wasn’t going well. He kept putting his foot in his mouth.
“Still training? Not even taking a little time off?” he tried again, following her as she walked the track to cool down. His camera bag thumped heavily against his hip.
“Track tryouts are in two weeks,” she replied, stretching her arms overhead as she walked. “No playing hooky. Not for me.”
“You never take a break?” he asked, frowning.
Mae shook her head. Her tough facade seemed to soften a bit.
“I lost the race, so Dad’s been pushing me extra hard to train for this upcoming track season. All my parents care about is winning.”
Hector paused. “And what do you care about?”
She turned to look at him, and bit her lower lip. “Follow me,” she said finally. “I’ll show you.”
Mae led him to her house on the outskirts of town. They jogged together, so it didn’t take long to get there.
Mae lived in a ranch house like Hector’s, but it had a sprawling, tree-lined backyard filled with a track and training equipment—rope climbs, hurdles, benches and weights, even a brick wall and mud trap.
Mae caught him checking out the backyard practice field.
“Home sweet home,” she said, then smirked. “Or more like, home sweet track.”
“Wow, I’ll say,” Hector remarked, admiring the training equipment. Some of it clearly came from Hero’s, but a lot of it was custom-built. He ran his hands over a wooden balance beam, admiring it. “Who made all this stuff?”
“My dad did,” Mae said. “He really does love me. He just doesn’t understand me, I guess.”
Hector nodded. “I know what that feels like. Are they home?”
“They’re both at work,” Mae said, leading him inside. “Mom will be home soon, but Dad works the night shift so he has time to train me during the day. Today he had to do a double cuz he took some time off for the big race.”
Inside, the differences between Mae’s house and his own were even more apparent. For starters, Mae was an only child, so it looked less well-trodden. The furniture was fancier and less worn, too.
“This is where the magic happens,” Mae said, leading him into the finished basement. “Or rather, the music.”
She flicked a switch and light flooded the space, illuminating stands with shiny electric guitars in a range of colors, as well as amps, mixing boards, and other equipment. The floors were concrete covered with carpeting. The walls had foam tiling to soundproof the room.
All around the basement were posters of famous rock bands—old-school stuff like Nirvana and Green Day, but also newer punk bands that Hector didn’t recognize. They looked fierce. His parents and Phil loved ’90s music, too.
“I should’ve been born in the ’90s,” Mae said with a whimsical shake of her head. She fondled the neck of a cherry-red guitar. It gleamed under the lights. “Kurt used to play this kind. He’s a legend.”
“If your parents don’t want you playing music, then why do you have all this stuff?” Hector asked.
“I use my Christmases and birthdays wisely,” Mae said with a shrewd smile. “My mom made my dad put in the soundproofing.”
“Not bad.” Hector grinned. “That’s a cool guitar. I’d love to hear you play.”
“I dunno,” Mae said, blushing. “I’m kind of shy.”
Shy? Was she kidding? She’d never acted that way on the track. But then, Hector understood. He felt shy about his photography, too. It was because this was what she actually loved. Music was her true passion.
“Well, how do you expect to join a band if you can’t even play for me?” he teased. “I’m your friend. It’s my job to be nice and cheer for you, no matter what.”
She took a deep breath and flicked on the amp. It buzzed fiercely with feedback, then chilled out. Slowly, she strapped on the red guitar.
When she started to play, raucous electric guitar chords filled the basement room with their rich sound. Her fingers flew over the neck of the guitar, expertly coaxing out notes from the strings.
Hector couldn’t believe his ears. He knew that Mae loved to play music, but witnessing her devotion to it was a whole other level. Without thinking, he pulled out his camera.
He started snapping photographs like a rock-music photographer. She gave him a questioning look, but then she got into it, even posing for him.
She finished the song, breaking into a rad looping guitar solo at the end, then flashing devil horns.
“Wow, you’re amazing,” Hector said, clapping for her. “You’re a total rock star!”
Mae blushed, flicking off the amp’s power. “You just said that you’re required to cheer no matter what. How can I believe you?”
“Okay, fair enough,” Hector said with a laugh. “But seriously, you’re so talented. You should join a band! I’d totally go see you.”
Her face fell. “I would love to, but I can’t with my training schedule. My dad won’t allow it. He says I can’t afford to get distracted.”
She unstrapped the guitar and set it down, then met his eyes.
A moment passed between them—a solidifying of their friendship. Hector could feel it. It gave him the courage to tell her the reason he’d tracked her down.
“Mae, there’s something I need to tell you…” He trailed off.
“I figured,” she said with a snort. “You’ve been acting all weird and nervous. I guessed something was up.”
“Yeah, but it’s not going to be easy,” he said, looking away and fiddling with the knobs on his camera. “Maybe it’s a bad idea.”
“No, you can tell me anything. Heck, I just whaled on guitar for you. You know my secret.”
“Yeah, but this is different,” he hedged, his stomach twisting.
She crossed her arms. “Now you have to tell me. You’re freaking me out.”
“You promise to still be my friend?” Hector said. “No matter what?”
“Of course,” she said without hesitation. “Best friends forever.”
Hector took a deep breath, then confessed everything. His fear about losing the Zeus Cup to her after his defeat in the preliminary race, the demons showing up in his bedroom, making the deal with Hades but then backing out.
The more he talked, the wider her eyes got. When he finished, he flexed his arms to show her his muscle tone. The gifts that Hades bestowed on him still worked.
“Wait, that’s how you won the race—you cheated?” Mae said, her face twisting with anger that shifted to vindication. “Wow, I knew you did something! I just couldn’t figure out what.”
“You did?” Hector said, feeling even worse. “How’d you know?”
“Well, you got so much faster and stronger basically overnight,” she said. “It just didn’t make sense. That flip you did at the wall? There was no way that was something you normally did.”
She paced around, agitated. “Ugh! I’d never have guessed it was a deal with a Greek god, though. I mean, that’s crazy! I was thinking maybe you had too much caffeine that morning or something, not that you had magic.”
“Yeah, well, now you know the truth,” Hector said. “But listen, it was a mistake. It’s awful. Now Hades won’t leave me alone. The trophy is locked up in my family’s store. I can’t get it out to give it to him. What am I going to do?”
He sank down to his knees, feeling the full weight of every single mistake that he’d made. But the last thought hurt the most.
“Also, now you’re not going to be my friend anymore,” he said. “And I can’t blame you. What I did was wrong. That trophy should belong to you.”
He felt tears prick his eyes and swallowed hard against them, making his throat feel thick. Mae was his only friend in the world, and now he’d lost her.
Mae glared at him. “You’re right—the Cup should be mine.” But then her face softened. “But also, I get it—and I forgive you.”
“Wait, what do you mean?” Hector said, looking up in surprise. “You’re not mad? You’re still my friend?”
“Oh, I’m super raging at you right now. But in your position, I’d have done the same thing,” she confessed. “I’d have done anything to win, just like you.”
“Still friends?” Hector said with a h
ard swallow.
“Yup, still friends,” she agreed. “Even though I’m gonna be annoyed at you for a bit. And I might have to find a way to get back at you,” she finished with a good-hearted chuckle.
“Deal,” Hector said right away.
He felt like the heavy weight that had been draped across his shoulders had lifted. He couldn’t believe it. Lying felt like dragging extra pounds around all the time. But the truth felt light as a feather. He shot Mae a grateful look, but then his face fell again.
“Thanks, but I’m in so much trouble,” he went on. “I didn’t give the Zeus Cup to Hades—and now the God of the Underworld is after me.”
Mae thought it over, then frowned. “Why does Hades want the trophy so bad?”
Hector searched back in his memory to that night. “He said something about some old feud with his brother. He said it was just a bunch of god stuff.”
“God stuff, huh?” Mae said, pondering it. “The Zeus Cup must have important powers, or he wouldn’t want it so bad. Right?”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Hector agreed.
“Think back to that night,” Mae prodded. “What did Hades say about the Zeus Cup?”
Hector furrowed his brow. “Let’s see, Hades said something about it being…the key to getting out of the Underworld.”
Mae looked up sharply. “The key?”
Hector nodded. “Yes, I think he used that exact word. What do you think it means?”
“Well, I don’t know what it means,” Mae said. “But I do know one thing. We need to find out more about the Zeus Cup—and there’s only one place to look.”
Hector scratched his head uncertainly. “Where’s that?”
Mae grabbed her bag. “Where this all started.”
“So this is where you wanted to take me?” Hector asked, peering up at the imposing white marble statue of Hades, which stared back at them impassively. The very sight of it gave him chills.
They stood in the town square’s little park, shrouded by leafy trees and surrounded by the statues of the Greek gods. In a certain light, the statues appeared so lifelike that it almost felt like the gods were watching them—and not very happily. Hector glanced over at Zeus. The god looked regal on his throne and clutched a lightning bolt in his hand.
