Waterfell

by Amalie Howard

  “Since when? Why didn’t you tell me?” he says. “Did you call the police?”

  “It’s complicated,” I begin haltingly. “My dad died, and I thought that she was dead, too. But then, it turns out that she’s alive. We have private investigators working on it.” I can’t believe how shaky my voice is, but deep down, I know it will give my words—my fabrication—more credibility. But despite a tiny twinge of guilt, a part of me does feel good to talk to someone about it, even if it’s only a strung-together story of partial truths.

  Lo’s eyes are wide. “Do they have any idea where she is?”

  “Maybe.” I pause, staring at him. “It just never feels like they’re doing enough, you know? They have a general idea where she is, but they’re so slow. I hate sitting around and waiting. I just want to do something. Find her if I can.”

  “So let’s do something. I can help.” Lo’s generous but dangerous words are like music to my ears, like kindling to a flame. Not only does Lo have a car, but also he’s my friend, and I know that I can trust him with keeping this a secret between us. Even as the illogical part of me celebrates his offer of help, the sensible side of me argues that I should give him at least one out to walk away from something that could get him into a lot of trouble.

  “Are you sure?” But my words and my eyes convey different messages. Inside and selfishly, my heart is begging him to say yes, but my mind wants him to say no, for his own sake.

  “Yes.”

  “You could get into a lot of trouble.”

  “I know.”

  “And that doesn’t bother you?”

  “It’s worth it.” My heart leaps at his response and the look on his face. His expression is wicked as he winks at me. “Plus, trouble is my middle name.”

  I notice that the glassy ocean has turned choppy and the moon has disappeared into a bank of thick dark clouds. Pale streaks of lightning spiderweb the clouds into eerie, disturbing shapes. I swear that I can see the sharp angle of fangs in a giant open mouth, and I shiver a little. For a second, I wonder if the change in the weather is caused by my own guilt for involving an innocent boy in something that could get him killed, but I shrug that thought away. He won’t get hurt, I tell myself. How can he, if he doesn’t know anything?

  “So why is it that we never seem to go on a normal date?” Lo says, and I laugh, my murky fears disappearing at his boyish question. “Surfing gone awry...supersecret spy activities...what’s next? Synchronized swimming with robot sharks?”

  “I didn’t think you wanted normal,” I quip back. “And I’ll have you know, I’m a master synchronized swimmer. With live sharks.”

  “Whoa,” Lo says with a lopsided grin. “Live sharks. That’s impressive. So no trapeze with aquatic cobras? That’s kind of my specialty.”

  I laugh out loud at the Madagascar movie reference and his ludicrous one-upping. “No, but tell you what. I’ll teach you to swim with sharks if you teach me to trapeze with cobras. Deal?”

  I stick my hand out and Lo takes it, only to pull me in close to seal the deal with a kiss. By the time he’s finished, I’m breathless and would probably agree to skydiving with a boatload of flying rattlesnakes.

  “Deal,” he whispers against my lips, and kisses me senseless once more until my fingers are wound so tightly in his shirt that it’ll take a crane to break them loose. He tips my chin up. “Jokes aside, I’m really sorry about your mom, Riss.”

  Despite my near-inability to function after his kisses, I can’t help feeling like I’ve tricked him into agreeing to help me by not telling him the whole truth.

  A strong gust of wind whips between us, lashing my hair into my face like a warning. But I ignore it. I’m torn between my selfishness and the cold sense of duty digging into my skull. It’s all for the greater good. If I find my mother, I won’t have to accept Ehmora’s brazen challenge and all the scales will tip back in our favor. Lightning cracks in the distance and I close my eyes, ignoring what is another obvious warning. I pull Lo’s face down to mine, letting his mouth erase any last bit of doubt from my mind. Spending more time with Lo and having his help to find my mother is the perfect combination.

  Selfish? Probably.

  Smart? Probably not.

  But it’s all I’ve got to go on, and without Lo’s help, I’m stranded in a sea of nothing, unable to do anything useful. And the truth is, I’d rather be with him doing this than without him doing nothing.

  What’s the worst that can happen?

  18

  LOVE MAKES THE WORLD CRASH AND BURN

  Turns out that the worst thing that can happen is pretty bad.

  After a week of trying to spy on Echlios and listen in on conversations, I was still no closer to finding out anything useful. Unfortunately, one thing I did learn was that there was no way to track a day-old Aquarathi scent, which would have evaporated to nothing in the sunlight. So they had nothing to go on, which means I have nothing.

  But that’s not the worst thing.

  Turns out that being secret superspies doesn’t really help the image of Lo and me being casual friends at school, especially when our heads are practically glued together plotting, and the gossip mill is buzzing with rumors that Lo and I are a couple.

  That’s still not the worst thing.

  The worst thing begins with C and ends with A, and hell hath no fury like one of those scorned. Apparently, she’s only dating Speio to get back at me, and Speio’s dating her because he knows I don’t like her. It’s like a Wonder Twins attack of epic proportions.

  “Seriously, is she ever going to let up?” I mutter, staring at Cara, who’s trying to blow up my table with her eyes. “You know she’s telling people I’m bullying her?”

  “Want me to talk to her?” Lo whispers to me in study hall.

  “Are you insane? That would be like going after a bull with a red flag.” I glare at him and then sigh. Getting mad at Lo won’t make things any better, and I refuse to play dirty with Cara. It’s like she just can’t let go. Sinking to her level isn’t the answer, but I’m getting close to the edge of losing it. Everywhere I turn, she’s there...always watching, always calculating. I sigh again and manage a small smile. “High-school girls are a curious breed. All the cattiness and backstabbing and general petty behavior makes for never-ending drama.”

  “You say that like you aren’t a high-school girl,” Lo says.

  “Not like that, I’m not.” Not anymore, I amend in my head.

  Ignoring Cara and her entourage, I open my notebook to the hand-drawn map of San Diego that I’ve penciled and study it. The trail marked in blue pen ends at Solano Beach, with red pen circling the towns of North City and Rancho Santa Fe. That’s where Echlios and Speio went that night I glimmered them.

  My gaze moves from the paper map to Speio, who—surprise, surprise—is also pretending not to look at us. He knows where they went, but he’ll never tell me. He won’t go against his parents for me, not even if I beg him. Something has changed between us, and not just because he’s dating Cara. It’s almost like he doesn’t trust me, which hurts something fierce. Whenever we are together, which is often, he speaks in monosyllables and disappears for hours at a time, with Echlios, I’m guessing. But we are nothing like we used to be, not anymore.

  There is another way that I can get the information but it’s far too horrific to consider. I can go into Speio’s head to get it. But it’s not like he won’t know about it—after all, you can’t access someone’s memories without them knowing that you went in there in the first place...especially if they’re Aquarathi. Speio will resist me with everything he has. And he will hate me, more than he does now. If I do it, it will be unforgiveable. But there’s too much on the line now. I have to consider it, even if it’s at the cost of losing him.

  “What’s wrong?” Lo asks, leaning over to
wipe away the lines of worry creasing my forehead.

  “Nothing,” I say. “Just thinking whether we’re going about this the right way.”

  “Like how?”

  “Like whether I should figure out if anyone else knows something they’re not telling us.” I keep my eyes focused on the table, not wanting to give away who I’m thinking about. Despite his obtuseness with Cara, Lo can be quite perceptive when it comes to other people. “I sort of have a plan. I’ll fill you in later, okay? We have a hockey game this afternoon so I’ll call you.”

  Lo shoots me a weird look. “Riss, you know I’ll be at the game, right? We talked about it?”

  “Okay, I’ll call you later,” I answer distractedly.

  At the bell, I grab my books and hurry to catch up with Jenna. We have a home game against the boys’ field hockey team and a pep rally. It’s our last one before the final in less than a week. The boys’ team had been knocked out early in their tournament, so it’s more of an exhibition game than anything. Well, that’s the idea, anyway. But when boys and girls get on a field, things can get pretty competitive so who knows what will happen?

  Once on the field, I stretch my legs next to Jenna and jog in place. I’ve missed a few practices but Coach Fenton excused me given the circumstances, especially after the fabricated doctor’s note I turned in. Missing practice is not going to stop me from playing at my best, especially after all of Echlios’s rigorous strength training.

  “You okay?” Jenna says, stretching her arms over her head and twisting. “Haven’t seen you all week. You and loverboy have been gone every day the minute school gets out. What are you guys doing, anyway?” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

  “Not that,” I say, flushing. “Or whatever it is you’re thinking.”

  “What am I thinking, Riss?” she teases, puckering her lips and pretending to make out with an imaginary person.

  “You’re so lame,” I say just as Cara runs past us with a scowl, chasing a ball that misses me by inches.

  “Whoa. She’s really out for you,” Jenna remarks.

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” I tell her about the bullying thing and her eyes widen, her mouth dropping open. “I mean, I can handle a prank as well as the next girl, but it’s getting out of hand.”

  “Maybe you just need to say you’re sorry,” Jenna offers.

  “Sorry for what?” Incredulous, I stop my warm-up to hear what she has to say.

  She takes a deep breath. “Look, I’m your friend and I’ll always be your friend, but you used to be her. And, well, you kind of ruined her life freshman year. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not condoning what she’s doing, but maybe it’s a front for something else.”

  “Who are you? Dr. Phil?” I snap, resuming jogging in place.

  “Do you want my help or not?”

  I glare at her but grudgingly nod. “Yes.”

  “Cano’s her uncle,” Jenna says, as if that’s the answer to everything.

  “So? What does that have to do with anything? He’s not going to fight her battles for her, is he?”

  “People that damaged are that way for a reason,” Jenna says, stretching her arms across her hockey stick and bending forward, twisting back and forth. “Maybe it was hard coming to Dover under the thumb of Uncle Cano. She wanted to be perfect, and you showed up.” She stands, eyeing me up and down. “You were the epitome of perfect, and you didn’t mind letting her know it even though you were friends. Then Cano told her to be more like you, and the rest is history.”

  I wince at the memory of freshman year. Empathy has never been my strong suit, or humility for that matter. “Whatever,” I say. “She needs to get over it. That’s water under the bridge.”

  “Maybe not for her.”

  “So what are you saying, Jenna? Grovel? To Cara of all people?” I grab my stick off the grass. “That’ll never happen in a million years. I have nothing to apologize for.”

  Jenna shoots me a thoughtful look. “That’s your call. But I think if you look deep enough, you’ll see that you do. Apologizing to Cara isn’t just for her. It’s for you, too. Maybe you need to let go of all that negative energy. My mom always says that forgiveness is a choice. You control how you respond to something or someone. You can’t change things that happened in the past, but you can decide how you let them affect you. And maybe she’ll do the same.” She shrugs. “Just my two cents.”

  “You really are Dr. Phil,” I say.

  “A leader leads by example. Take it or leave it,” Jenna says, and grins, thumping me on the behind with the end of her stick. “Now enough daytime television drama, let’s go school these boys and teach them a lesson that girls kick butt...off and on the field!”

  After Jenna’s eye-opening sentiments, I have no idea how I make it through the game, but I pass and shoot on automatic pilot. The boys, despite all their taunts, could hardly keep up with us and we beat them soundly fourteen to three. Even with my lack of practice, I managed to score four out of the fourteen goals. Jenna took three of them, and even Cara scored one in the last minutes. As far as pregame pep rallies went, we were more than amped up for the championship game. During the game, I looked for Lo in the stands but didn’t see him.

  I’m not sure that Jenna is entirely right about Cara, but she’s said enough to make me take a long, hard look at myself. In my defense, all I wanted to do back then was to escape who I was, and no one really meant anything to me...not even my own people. I’d been euphoric to be so free of responsibility and pressure that I took the freedom too literally. Humans were things to be enjoyed and discarded, and Cara had been an unnoticed casualty of my teenage evolution.

  I was wrong. I see that now.

  But I have worse things to worry about than making things right with Cara.

  Like Speio. And finding out what he knows because time is running out. The challenge with Ehmora is in less than two weeks. If we manage to rescue my mother before, I will still meet Ehmora’s challenge and defend my throne. It’s the only way that my people will be safe and the usurpers will be forced to bow to me once I’ve beaten their queen. And if I fail, at least my mother and my family will be safe. If Ehmora still has my mother by the time of the challenge, I will have no choice but to win. I’ll have to be ready either way.

  My preference, of course, is the former. But the days have been passing by with no success of discovering my mother’s whereabouts. Echlios and his men have been searching day and night with nothing to show for it. I’m finding it more and more difficult to control my temper and frustration when he comes up empty-handed day after day.

  “What happened to the trail?” I asked him during one of our twice-daily training sessions. “Of the hybrid?”

  “It disappeared,” he said. “I thought we had traced it to one place, but when we went back, it turned out to be a dead end. The house was empty with no signs of anything.”

  “So what have you been doing all this time?” I couldn’t control the edge in my voice.

  “We are searching every property in that area and we have twenty-four-hour surveillance over the perimeter.”

  “Where?” I said, knowing his answer before I even asked the question. Echlios explained that I would draw too much attention if I got involved, and I’d only put myself in unnecessary danger. I was getting sick and tired of being treated like a pariah.

  “You know I can’t tell you, my lady. It’s for—”

  I cut him off with a silent raised palm. “My safety. I know. I get it. I just don’t understand how you had such a solid lead and you lost it.”

  “We are trying our best.”

  “Try harder.”

  That was two days ago, and I haven’t spoken to him since. Even during training when I do see him, I remain quiet because I know that if I speak one word, I’m going to explode. A
nd it won’t be pretty.

  Showering quickly in the locker room with my teammates’ voices a murmur around me, I let my frustration at Echlios’s efforts grow into full-on fury. He’s leaving me with no choice. I will have to glimmer Speio and risk the consequences. They have all put me into this position by not trusting me, so the fault is theirs, as well. By the time I’ve finished getting dressed, I’ve worked myself into a fine rage and a self-righteous indignation—they’ve driven me to this.

  “Hey, Riss,” Jenna shouts, jerking me out of my thoughts. “You coming to eat with the gang?”

  “No, I have to do something at the center. I’ll meet up with you guys later.” I’m becoming quite the consummate little liar. Although in my defense, I’m not exactly lying. I am going to the center, just not for work. On the way to my Jeep, I text Lo—whom I still haven’t seen since class—that I’m following up on a lead and I’ll see him later. A text comes straight back saying, Okay, call you later. Be careful.

  If he only knew what I’m planning to do, he’d be shocked...alien mind-control taken to desperate extremes wouldn’t exactly win me brownie points with any human, even if it’s used against someone of my ilk. Jenna would be horrified, and Soren...I don’t even want to think about what Soren would think of me mentally coercing her son. I take a deep breath and steel myself. They’ve given me no choice.

  At the marine center, I park and say hello to Kevin, who’s on the phone. I’ve been there so many times this week he doesn’t even check the shift log, just waves me back. I make my way to the speedboat tied to the far end of the dock. It’s nearly sunset and the water is a shimmery kaleidoscope of red, orange and gold. But I barely notice as I steer the boat at full speed past San Clemente Island, toward the uninhabited San Nicolas Island. The sun has disappeared into a melting smoky sort of darkness by the time I reach open water to the south of San Nicolas.