“We need water,” Eureka said. “And my father’s hurt.”
“I said we’ll talk,” Solon repeated. “Unless you know someone else in the neighborhood who can give you what you seek?”
Eureka studied the waterfall, trying to determine the texture of the white rock wall behind it. The first step would be getting beyond the water to the rock. Then she’d have to worry about climbing.
She looked at Dad, but he was still asleep. She thought of the hundreds of trees she and Brooks had climbed throughout their childhood. Their favorite climbing time was dusk, so that when they nestled into the tallest branches, the stars would just be coming out. Eureka imagined attaching all those tree limbs onto one colossal trunk. She imagined it stretching into outer space, past the moon. Then she imagined a tree house on the moon, with Brooks waiting for her inside, floating in a space suit, biding his time by renaming constellations. Orion was the only one he knew.
She fixed her eyes on the surface of the waterfall. Fantasizing wouldn’t help her now. Cat was right—this was ridiculous. She couldn’t reach that orchid. Why was she even considering it?
Find your way out of a foxhole, girl.
Memories of Diana’s voice filled Eureka’s heart with longing. Her mother would say that belief in the impossible was the first step toward greatness. She would whisper in Eureka’s ear: Go and get it.
When Eureka thought of Diana, her hand moved to her neck. As her fingers traced the locket, the yellow ribbon, and the thunderstone, she devised a plan. She handed Cat the torch. She slid her tote bag from her shoulder and gave it to Ander.
He gave her a smile that said, You’re really going for it?
She hung in front of him, feeling the warmth of his fingers as he took her bag. Sweat formed on her brow. It was foolish to want a good-luck kiss, but she did.
“Go and get it,” he whispered.
Eureka crouched into the starting pose she assumed before a race. She bent her knees and balled her fists. She was going to need a running start.
“Nice form.” Solon drained the last of his drink. “Who knew she was trained?”
“Let’s go, Boudreaux.” Cat repeated the cheer she’d chanted at meets. But her voice sounded distant, like she couldn’t believe what was happening.
Eureka had done the high jump for a season when she’d first started running. She stared at the waterfall, envisioning a horizontal beam of water for her body to clear when she leapt. Fear filled her, energy she told herself to exploit. From the back of the cave, she began to jog.
For the first few strides, her muscles were cold and tight, but soon she felt the loosening, the lightening. She inhaled deeply, drawing the strange, steamy air into her lungs, holding her breath until she felt immersed in the atmosphere. Her shoes stopped squishing. Her rib cage lifted. Her mind traveled to the highest branch on the moon. She didn’t look down when the floor dropped out from under her. She pivoted in the air, arched her back, drew her hands up, and dove backward into the waterfall.
Cold water roared around her. She screamed as her body dropped twenty feet and was consumed by the fall. Then the thunderstone shield bloomed around her, an answered prayer bouncing her upward. She was weightless, protected. But the force of the waterfall was dragging her down.
She was going to have to swim up it.
Her body straightened. She did one breaststroke, then another.
It was hard work. Every burning stroke of her arms raised her only a half-inch higher. When she didn’t strain against it, the water pushed her down. After a long, exhausting stretch, Eureka sensed that she was only now level with the cave’s floor. She still had far to go.