Leo Valdez REALLY wanted a taco.
Specifically, the ones his mother would make after a long day of toiling away in her workshop; little Leo helping by handing her tools as he fiddled with his own scraps of metal. But right now, he would settle for just about any taco that would soothe the ache of a stomach that had lived off of scraps for the past several days.
Leo was used to being hungry—his four years worth of foster homes had made sure of that—but hunger was a very different thing when he spent most of his waking moments battling for his life against storybook monsters.
Three weeks ago, if you had asked Leo if monsters were real, he would have said only the ones that reside in your head . Like the zombie lady clothed in black who spoke to him outside his mother's warehouse, or the haunting voices of Tia Rosa and Tia Callida. Or even people like Teresa, or James, past foster parents who lived in Leo's nightmares as more monster than human.
But now Leo knew that the list continued beyond those that inhabited his mind.
Because ever since he had run away from what he swore was his last foster home, monsters had become real.
And the part of him he had promised to never reach for again, the part that had caused the death of his mother and his Tia Rosa to disown him, was now the only thing stopping him from becoming a hydra's breakfast.
Twenty-one days ago, after packing his few personal items—a picture of his mother and seven year old Leo, several spare parts, and four changes of clothing—into a faded brown backpack, he had slipped out the door of Teresa's house after seven long months, dodged a few grabby policemen, and fled into the night.
He had found a spot in the ruins of a country house to sleep, and the next morning, was woken to the sound of skittering. Leo had shot up from his sleeping bag, scrambled to his feet, and came face to face with a red mechanical bug on the wall in front of him.
It was about the size of Leo's closed fist, and it had sharp, metallic legs like a spider, but iridescent wings like a beetle. It tilted its head at the most adorable angle, regarding Leo with little black eyes filled with intelligence.
At this point, Leo had been so mentally and physically exhausted of being alone, that when a possible companion appeared, he didn't give a second thought to how it existed in the first place.
He simply watched it with weary eyes, and when the creature crawled around the corner and disappeared from sight, Leo did the only sane thing.
He packed his meager belongings, and set off after the animatron.
It led him Northeast, straight out of Texas, and into Arkansas, and that's when winter hit. Leo was boarded up in an abandoned building when the snow began falling, the harsh, biting winds pounding against the thin walls.
He was freezing, the small scraps of food he could find while traveling were not enough to provide any significant padding to his bones, and his teeth rattled with the force of his shivering.
The metal spider which Leo had dubbed "Firebug" was watching Leo from its place on the wall, as if waiting for Leo to do something. Apparently it decided Leo was too slow, because the little robot then used one of its sharp metal legs to scrape an image into the decaying material of the wall.
The picture was of a flame .
Leo did not know how the little metal bug knew about his curse, but Firebug had never led Leo wrong before. It was either listen to the creature or freeze to death, and yet he still found himself hesitating. After the accident that led to Leo being placed in the foster system, he had vowed to never use his fire, to never lose control , again.
I'm sorry, mom.
For the first time in four years, Leo called forth fire from deep within, willing it to provide heat. After a third of his life spent with a chill that never left his bones, Leo felt truly warm.
After that night, Leo had his first encounter with a monster.
He had been traveling through a wheat field in Tennessee, having lost sight of Firebug, when his feet were pulled out from under him. Leo had fallen onto his back, hitting his head hard on the ground, and when he blinked the stars away, he had seen a baby sitting on his chest.
A really ugly baby.
Its skin was green tinted, it had blonde wisps atop its head, and wings like dried wheat. And then it had released a war cry that could have only been described as a toddler's screech when having a fit, and suddenly the entire field was alive.
Grain had flown in a tornado around Leo, catching on his skin and scratching his face, and dozens of little baby creatures with pointed fangs and sharp claws had swarmed towards him.
Leo had no weapon, nothing that could defend him. Nothing except for the fire within, and he knew the damage it could cause in a field of dry wheat. But the snarling creatures surrounded him, and there was no other way to make it out alive.
Leo released the blaze in a torrent of flames, the fire burning so hot and so high that he could see nothing else. Screeches and wails filled the air, for how long he still didn't know, and then finally, everything was quiet.
The flames died, and Leo had fallen to his knees, landing in a dusting of ash that spread from nearly one side of the field to the other, with only a few feet of untouched wheat remaining.
After that encounter, many more monsters had attacked, and Leo used his fire or his mechanical prowess to defeat every single one, until finally, Firebug led Leo to the foot of a green grassy hill.
They were on Long Island in New York—Leo having walked, driven, and traveled on trains all the way across the country, using money that he had found in envelopes lying unattended in various locations, the stamp of a hammer in the wax of every single one.
Firebug had stopped at the base of the hill, a pine tree standing proudly at the crest, and lifted his little metal leg in what seemed like a salute.
Leo did the obvious thing and returned the gesture, two fingers raised to his forehead, and then the red animatron dissolved in sparks of red and bronze, as if it had never been there in the first place.
And that is where Leo now stood, somewhat dumbfounded by the disappearing act of his only friend for twenty-one days, vaguely acknowledging his growing desire for a heaping pile of tacos, and pondering what he was supposed to do next.
He realized that the most logical thing to do was to climb to the top of the hill and see what lay on the other side, but he had not taken one step in the correct direction when disaster struck.
Pounding footfalls echoed from the forest on his left, and Leo barely had time to register the imminent danger before he was swathed in white hot flames, burning all of the surrounding vegetation, and leaving a crater of black in its wake.
The dragon-like creature that abandoned the cover of the woods was the size of an elephant, with green sharp scales and nine towering heads, each with mouths stuffed full of razor teeth. Beady eyes tracked his every move, and heat radiated from the monster, its tail whipping back and forth with enough strength to knock down a tree.
Over his weeks of travelling, Leo had faced many monsters—such as the wind itself, massive black dogs with glowing red eyes, and cannibal bullies who wanted to taste "smoked fiery half-god jerky," a statement which Leo had very quickly decided to never unpack—but this monster was by far the scariest.
Crouched at the feet of the absolutely terrifying dragon, Leo wished that he had some heroic thought, like if I go down, I'll go down fighting!
But in reality, Leo's first thought was:
Nope.
Slaying a literal dragon that should only exist in movies? Nuh uh! I'll take a taco over this battle any day!
Unfortunately, the dragon was hungry too, and a Super-sized Mcshizzle was on his menu.
A massive talon invaded his vision, and Leo didn't roll away fast enough, causing a claw to catch in the skin of his shoulder and tear through the sleeve, igniting a spark of pain.
Warm liquid dripped down his arm, but Leo had no time to examine the wound, dodging a snap of the dragon's teeth, and leaping away from the lashing tail.
After all his time fighting monsters, it should have been a given that Leo would have found some weapon—a sword, or a dagger, or even a really sharp stick—to pave his way in these increasingly common battles to the death.
Unfortunately, all he had was a scrawny 4'5 body that happened to produce flames, but this dragon seemed to be a whole lot better at it.
Scorching hot fire once again engulfed his entire self and the surrounding clearing, and in the blinding flames, Leo did not see the massive tail that smashed into him, knocking him across the clearing and into a tree.
He slid down the trunk and collapsed at the base, his back against the bark, and his chest wheezing as he fought to catch his breath.
Upon his first inhale, a sharp pain sparked in his side, and Leo groaned, recognizing the agony of a cracked rib from his time in the lovely Teresa's basement.
The scaled monster was slowly approaching, and Leo realized that he needed to make a move now before the adrenaline died and he really started feeling the ache.
"Just.. just a second big guy, Supreme Fire Commander Valdez needs one ... moment."
Ironically, the dragon took that as its cue to charge, and in a last ditch attempt, Leo summoned every ounce of fire he had, every last bit of strength, and unleashed it all in a torrent of white-hot flames.
The grass, trees, and dragon were coated in the molten blaze, incinerating everything it touched, until with a few last sparks, the fire died.
Leo collapsed onto his side, the tree that he had been leaning against now a pile of ashes along with everything else in the clearing, leaving only a green-scaled dragon head lying a few feet away.
As Leo's vision blurred and narrowed, the last thing he saw was a group of figures making their way over the crest of the hill, running toward the smoky desert in the middle of the woods, and then everything faded to black.