Waterfall

“Eureka killed Google,” Cat explained.

“A quirk is an enchanted inkling,” Solon said, “a fragment of magic with which every mortal soul is born. Most people never learn how to harness theirs, and die with their quirks still dormant. Quirks are as fragile as one’s sense of self. Unless one’s quirk is protected to survive the chilling effects of growing older, it disappears. A true pity, because even the most absurd quirks become essential in the proper context.”

“Do we get only one?” William asked.

“Ambitious lad,” Solon said. “Well, why should there be a limit? One quirk is a miracle, but don’t let me stand in your way. Quirk out as much as you like.”

“Do you have a quirk?” Claire asked Solon.

“Yes,” Cat answered for him. “Being a dick.”

“I possess the Seedbearer’s global quirk,” Solon said, “the Zephyr. Ander shares it, too. Groups often have global quirks, and sometimes counterquirks, like the twins. My neighbors, the Celans, can visit the dead in their dreams. But quirks don’t have to rely on heritage or who your parents were. Each of us has magic within us. We take our quirks from the universal store.” He paused. “William and Claire have already awakened their quirks. Perhaps the time has come for the rest of you to do the same.”

Eureka approached Solon. “You’re supposed to prepare me to go to the Marais,” she said. “We have eight days before the full moon.”

“Says the girl who disappeared last night when we could have been working.”

“She left because you dropped a bomb on her,” Ander said.

“A bomb I wouldn’t have had to drop if you had been honest,” Solon said.

“A bomb went off last night?” William asked.

“Everything good happens when we’re asleep,” Claire said, and crossed her arms.

“Eureka’s right,” Ander said. “This isn’t the time for magic tricks. Our enemy is out there. Teach us how to fight him.”

“Not us. Me. This is my fight,” Eureka said to Solon, to Ander, to Atlas wherever he was.

“If I were facing the darkest force in the universe,” Solon said, “I’d want all the help I could get.”

“Yeah, well, some people have less to lose than others,” Eureka said.

“Meaning?” Solon asked.

“You don’t love anyone, so you don’t care who gets hurt,” Eureka said. “When I go to the Marais, I’ll go alone.”

Solon snorted. “The day you’re ready to go to the Marais alone is the day I keel over and die!”

“Finally, you’ve given me a goal!” Eureka shouted.

A hint of green in the corner of Eureka’s vision grabbed her attention. Cat sat with her back against the trunk of the tree, which wasn’t barren anymore. Its branches sprouted tender green leaves, then flowered into a thousand pale pink cherry blossoms. Petals floated to the ground, showering Cat’s braids, as ripe red cherries swelled from the branches’ buds. The twins started laughing, leaping to pluck the fruit from the tree. Its branches curved forward, embracing Cat in what almost seemed like a gentle, grateful hug.

“How did you do that?” Eureka asked.

“Diana said you and Solon were supposed to be great friends,” Cat said. “I didn’t want you to fight. So I sat down and focused on the love Diana felt for both of you. I was hoping you’d feel it for each other.”

“Cat.” Eureka sank to her knees. “Why do you love fixing people up so much?”

Cat ran her hands through the carpet of cherry blossoms around her feet. “I want everyone to fall in love.”

“But why?”

“Love makes people the best versions of themselves.”

Eureka plucked a cherry, handed it to her friend. “I think you found your quirk.”

“Eat one, Reka,” William said, dumping a fistful in her lap.

Eureka slipped a cherry in her mouth. As she chewed she found it difficult to stay angry at Solon. There was love inside the fruit. Love that was bigger than fear.

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