A LEADER IS A DEALER IN HOPE.
At some point, Eureka had become Cat, Dad, and the twins leader. She wanted to give them hope. But how?
She thought of a popular phrase in the chat rooms she had trolled after Diana died: It gets better. Eureka knew it was originally offered as encouragement to g*y kids, but if there was one thing shed learned since Dianas death, it was that emotions didnt travel in a straight line. Sometimes it would get better, sometimes it would get worse. Sure, Eureka had known joyin the tops of live oak trees, in dilapidated boats cruising the bayou, on long runs through shady groves, and in peals of laughter with Brooks and Catbut the sensation was usually so fleeting, a commercial in the drama of her life, that shed never put much stock in it.
How would joy help me defeat Atlas? Eureka wondered aloud.
Solon! a voice called from behind them. The Poet appeared at the top of the stairs. He looked terrified. I tried to stop them but beggars must be choosers.
What are you talking about? Solon asked.
From behind the Poet an enraged voice shouted something Eureka didnt understand. A young man with a stubbly beard joined the Poet on the stairs. Every muscle in his body was tensed, as if he were in shock. His chest heaved and his eyes were wild. He pointed a trembling finger at Eureka.
Yes, the Poet said with heavy regret. She is the one the dead speak of in our dreams.
14
STORMING A STORM
Stay there! Solon shouted at Eureka. His silk robe trailed behind him as he rushed past the Poet and down the stairs. Without the protection of his cordon, rain returned to the veranda.
Whats going on? Cat asked the Poet.
The other boy moved quickly across the veranda, splashing through puddles, trampling on swirls of cherry blossoms, heading for Eureka.
A silver flash caught her eye as the orichalcum chain of Anders anchor tightly encircled the boys bony rib cage. He grunted, struggling to breathe.
Ander held the shank of the anchor over his shoulder, the chain coiled around his wrist. He shoved the bearded boy and the Poet against the verandas rail. He pressed their necks over the overlook. A sheet of mist spread toward them and the boys slipped in and out of foggy, white obscurity.
Whos down there? Anders grip tightened on both boys necks. How many?
Dont hurt him! Cat said.
Let go, please, the Poet grunted. We come in pieces.
Liar, Ander said. Lightning split the sky, illuminating his shoulder muscles through his T-shirt. They want her.
They want food. The Poet gasped and struggled to break free.
The Poets companion beganwhipping his head back in violent jerks, trying to strike Anders face.
Claire tugged on the sleeve of Dads jean jacket. Should I spear that boy?
Dad locked eyes with Eureka. Both of them had noticed the orichalcum sheath in Claires hand. Dad lifted it from one daughter and passed it to the other. Eureka slipped it through the belt loop of her jeans as Dad tucked the orichalcum chest inside his jacket.
A series of thumps drew Eurekas attention to Ander and the boys. The sharp point of Anders elbow snapped into the back of the bearded boys head, over and over, until the boy grunted and finally went limp.
Dad tried to shield the twins from the violent sight, and Eureka was surprised she hadnt thought to do the same. It hadnt shocked her the way it would have once. Now violence was ordinary, like the ache of hunger and the dull edge of regret.
Dad moved the twins toward the staircase. Something in Eureka lightened as they slipped away. The sensation came and went quickly, and she couldnt put it into words, but it made her wonder whether she would rather be like Cat, with no knowledge of her family, with no special responsibility to protect them.
A crash below made Dad jump away from the head of the stairs. There was nowhere safe to go.
Stay up here! Eureka called.
Behind her, the Poet was on his knees, lightly slapping the unconscious boys cheeks, murmuring something in their language.
Take this to your family, Cat said, her crossed arms full of cherries. The Poet gave her a grateful nod and a shy smile that belonged on the outskirts of a high school football gamenot over an unconscious body somewhere near the end of the world.
We have more food, Eureka heard herself say.
Ander moved next to her. She felt his heat pulse near her body. He was bleeding above his eyebrow where the boys head had struck him.
If we feed them, Ander said to the Poet, do you swear theyll leave her alone?
Another crash sounded below. Eureka heard Solon wheeze: I said hit me, you pathetic weaklings!
Solon, you idiot, she muttered as she rushed for the stairs.
Dads arm shot out, trying to block her. This isnt your fight, Reka.
Its only my fight, she said. Dont go down there.
Dad started to argue, then realized he couldnt stop her, or change her mind, or change the person shed become. He kissed her forehead lightly, between her eyes, the way he used to after her nightmares. Youre awake now, his soft voice once reassured her. Nothings gonna get you.
She was awake now, to a nightmare never more real or more dangerous. She thundered down the stairs. Solon!
At some point, Eureka had become Cat, Dad, and the twins leader. She wanted to give them hope. But how?
She thought of a popular phrase in the chat rooms she had trolled after Diana died: It gets better. Eureka knew it was originally offered as encouragement to g*y kids, but if there was one thing shed learned since Dianas death, it was that emotions didnt travel in a straight line. Sometimes it would get better, sometimes it would get worse. Sure, Eureka had known joyin the tops of live oak trees, in dilapidated boats cruising the bayou, on long runs through shady groves, and in peals of laughter with Brooks and Catbut the sensation was usually so fleeting, a commercial in the drama of her life, that shed never put much stock in it.
How would joy help me defeat Atlas? Eureka wondered aloud.
Solon! a voice called from behind them. The Poet appeared at the top of the stairs. He looked terrified. I tried to stop them but beggars must be choosers.
What are you talking about? Solon asked.
From behind the Poet an enraged voice shouted something Eureka didnt understand. A young man with a stubbly beard joined the Poet on the stairs. Every muscle in his body was tensed, as if he were in shock. His chest heaved and his eyes were wild. He pointed a trembling finger at Eureka.
Yes, the Poet said with heavy regret. She is the one the dead speak of in our dreams.
14
STORMING A STORM
Stay there! Solon shouted at Eureka. His silk robe trailed behind him as he rushed past the Poet and down the stairs. Without the protection of his cordon, rain returned to the veranda.
Whats going on? Cat asked the Poet.
The other boy moved quickly across the veranda, splashing through puddles, trampling on swirls of cherry blossoms, heading for Eureka.
A silver flash caught her eye as the orichalcum chain of Anders anchor tightly encircled the boys bony rib cage. He grunted, struggling to breathe.
Ander held the shank of the anchor over his shoulder, the chain coiled around his wrist. He shoved the bearded boy and the Poet against the verandas rail. He pressed their necks over the overlook. A sheet of mist spread toward them and the boys slipped in and out of foggy, white obscurity.
Whos down there? Anders grip tightened on both boys necks. How many?
Dont hurt him! Cat said.
Let go, please, the Poet grunted. We come in pieces.
Liar, Ander said. Lightning split the sky, illuminating his shoulder muscles through his T-shirt. They want her.
They want food. The Poet gasped and struggled to break free.
The Poets companion beganwhipping his head back in violent jerks, trying to strike Anders face.
Claire tugged on the sleeve of Dads jean jacket. Should I spear that boy?
Dad locked eyes with Eureka. Both of them had noticed the orichalcum sheath in Claires hand. Dad lifted it from one daughter and passed it to the other. Eureka slipped it through the belt loop of her jeans as Dad tucked the orichalcum chest inside his jacket.
A series of thumps drew Eurekas attention to Ander and the boys. The sharp point of Anders elbow snapped into the back of the bearded boys head, over and over, until the boy grunted and finally went limp.
Dad tried to shield the twins from the violent sight, and Eureka was surprised she hadnt thought to do the same. It hadnt shocked her the way it would have once. Now violence was ordinary, like the ache of hunger and the dull edge of regret.
Dad moved the twins toward the staircase. Something in Eureka lightened as they slipped away. The sensation came and went quickly, and she couldnt put it into words, but it made her wonder whether she would rather be like Cat, with no knowledge of her family, with no special responsibility to protect them.
A crash below made Dad jump away from the head of the stairs. There was nowhere safe to go.
Stay up here! Eureka called.
Behind her, the Poet was on his knees, lightly slapping the unconscious boys cheeks, murmuring something in their language.
Take this to your family, Cat said, her crossed arms full of cherries. The Poet gave her a grateful nod and a shy smile that belonged on the outskirts of a high school football gamenot over an unconscious body somewhere near the end of the world.
We have more food, Eureka heard herself say.
Ander moved next to her. She felt his heat pulse near her body. He was bleeding above his eyebrow where the boys head had struck him.
If we feed them, Ander said to the Poet, do you swear theyll leave her alone?
Another crash sounded below. Eureka heard Solon wheeze: I said hit me, you pathetic weaklings!
Solon, you idiot, she muttered as she rushed for the stairs.
Dads arm shot out, trying to block her. This isnt your fight, Reka.
Its only my fight, she said. Dont go down there.
Dad started to argue, then realized he couldnt stop her, or change her mind, or change the person shed become. He kissed her forehead lightly, between her eyes, the way he used to after her nightmares. Youre awake now, his soft voice once reassured her. Nothings gonna get you.
She was awake now, to a nightmare never more real or more dangerous. She thundered down the stairs. Solon!
