The Lost Hero

He wondered if his mother had known the truth. Leo remembered after that last visit, his mom took him
inside and had a long talk with him, but he only understood some of it.
―She can‘t come back again.‖ His mom had a beautiful face with kind eyes, and curly dark hair, but she
looked older than she was because of hard work. The lines around her eyes were deeply etched. Her hands
were callused. She was the first person from their family to graduate from college. She had a degree in
mechanical engineering and could design anything, fix anything, build anything.
No one would hire her. No company would take her seriously, so she ended up in the machine shop,
trying to make enough money to support the two of them. She always smelled of machine oil, and when she
talked with Leo, she switched from Spanish to English constantly—using them like complementary tools. It took
Leo years to realize that not everyone spoke that way. She‘d even taught him Morse code as a kind of game, so
they could tap messages to each other when they were in different rooms: I love you. You okay? Simple things
like that.
―I don‘t care what Callida says,‖ his mom told him. ―I don‘t care about destiny and the Fates. You‘re too
young for that. You‘re still my baby.‖
She took his hands, looking for burn marks, but of course there weren‘t any. ―Leo, listen to me. Fire is a
tool, like anything else, but it‘s more dangerous than most. You don‘t know your limits. Please, promise me—no
more fire until you meet your father. Someday, mijo, you will meet him. He‘ll explain everything.‖
Leo had heard that since he could remember. Someday he would meet his dad. His mom wouldn‘t answer
any questions about him. Leo had never met him, never even seen pictures, but she talked like he‘d just gone
to the store for some milk and he‘d be back any minute. Leo tried to believe her. Someday, everything would
make sense.
For the next couple of years, they were happy. Leo almost forgot about Tía Callida. He still dreamed of the
flying boat, but the other strange events seemed like a dream too.
It all came apart when he was eight. By then, he was spending every free hour at the shop with his mom.
He knew how to use the machines. He could measure and do math better than most adults. He‘d learned to
think three-dimensionally, solving mechanical problems in his head the way his mom did.
One night, they stayed late because his mom was finishing a drill bit design she hoped to patent. If she
could sell the prototype, it might change their lives. She‘d finally get a break.
As she worked, Leo passed her supplies and told her corny jokes, trying to keep her spirits up. He loved it
when he could make her laugh. She‘d smile and say, ―Your father would be proud of you, mijo. You‘ll meet him
soon, I‘m sure.‖
Mom‘s workspace was at the very back of the shop. It was kind of creepy at night, because they were the
only ones there. Every sound echoed through the dark warehouse, but Leo didn‘t mind as long as he was with
his mom. If he did wander the shop, they could always keep in touch with Morse code taps. Whenever they
were ready to leave, they had to walk through the entire shop, through the break room, and out to the parking
lot, locking the doors behind them.
That night after finishing up, they‘d just gotten to the break room when his mom realized she didn‘t have
her keys.
―That‘s funny.‖ She frowned. ―I know I had them. Wait here, mijo. I‘ll only be a minute.‖
She gave him one more smile—the last one he‘d ever get —and she went back into the warehouse.
She‘d only been gone a few heartbeats when the interior door slammed shut. Then the exterior door
locked itself.
―Mom?‖ Leo‘s heart pounded. Something heavy crashed inside the warehouse. He ran to the door, but no
matter how hard he pulled or kicked, it wouldn‘t open. ―Mom!‖ Frantically, he tapped a message on the wall: You
okay?
―She can‘t hear you,‖ a voice said.
Leo turned and found himself facing a strange woman. At first he thought it was Tía Callida. She was
wrapped in black robes, with a veil covering her face.
―Tía?‖ he said.
The woman chuckled, a slow gentle sound, as if she were half asleep. ―I am not your guardian. Merely a
family resemblance.‖
―What—what do you want? Where‘s my mom?‖
―Ah … loyal to your mother. How nice. But you see, I have children too … and I understand you will fight
them someday. When they try to wake me, you will prevent them. I cannot allow that.‖
―I don‘t know you. I don‘t want to fight anybody.‖
She muttered like a sleepwalker in a trance, ―A wise choice.‖
With a chill, Leo realized the woman was, in fact, asleep. Behind the veil, her eyes were closed. But even
stranger: her clothes were not made of cloth. They were made ofearth—dry black dirt, churning and shifting
around her. Her pale, sleeping face was barely visible behind a curtain of dust, and he had the horrible sense