“You’ve found him.” His voice held an absence of hope. “Let’s celebrate.”

Cat tilted her head toward Eureka and whispered, “Schwing.”

It hadn’t occurred to Eureka that the boy was hot—though, now that Cat mentioned it, he was. Very. His eyes were a pale, spellbinding blue. His close-cropped hair was blond with intriguing black and brown leopard-print spots. The slinkiness of his robe suggested they had stumbled into his boudoir.

The Solon she’d heard about defected from the Seedbearers seventy-five years ago. Was this boy pretending? Was the real Seedbearer somewhere hidden away?

“You’re Solon?” Eureka asked.

“Read ’em and weep.” He glanced at Eureka. “Not literally, please.”

They endured an awkward silence.

“Please don’t take this personally,” Solon said, “whatever that means, but I’ve been hoodwinked by those witches so many times that, before I welcome you into my salon, I require some proof of your quote-unquote identity.”

Eureka felt her empty pockets. She had no means of identifying herself, other than her tears. “You might have to take my word for it.”

“No, please keep that.” The boy’s blue eyes twinkled. “Do you see that flower at the top of the waterfall?”

He raised an index finger. Thirty feet above them, a vibrant fuchsia orchid grew out of the stone. It was stunning, undisturbed by the rushing water. It reminded Eureka of the gossipwitches’ caftans. At least fifty bright-lobed blooms clung to the orchid’s vine.

“I see it.”

“If you are who they say you are,” Solon said, “bring it to me.”

“Who are ‘they’?” Eureka asked.

“One vexed identity at a time. You first. The orchid …”

“Why should we believe you are who you say you are?” Cat asked. “You look like a freshman gamer too wimpy to carry my books.”

“What Cat means is,” Eureka said, “we were expecting someone older.”

“Age is in the eye of the beholder,” Solon said, and tipped his head toward Ander. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Ander looked paler than usual. “This is Solon.”

“Fine,” Cat said. “He’s Solon, Eureka’s Eureka, and the Cat’s the Cat, not that you’re interested. We’re thirsty, and I’d like to know if my family’s pushing clouds around or what. I take it you don’t have a phone?”

“The orchid,” Solon said. “Then we’ll talk.”

“This is ridiculous,” Cat said.

“She shouldn’t need to prove herself to you,” Ander said. “We’re here because—”

“I know why she’s here,” Solon said.

“If I bringyou the orchid,” Eureka said, “you’ll help us?”

“I said we’ll talk,” Solon corrected. “You’ll find that I’m an excellent conversationalist. No one has ever complained.”

“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.