“What are they? Night vision?”
“Nope. Goggles. You’re going to love the white water.”
They hit the rapids ten minutes later.
Tally had lived her whole life within sight of the river.
Slow-moving and dignified, it defined the city, marking the
boundary between worlds. But she’d never realized that a
few kilometers upstream from the dam, the stately band of
silver became a snarling monster.
The churning water really was white. It crashed over
rocks and through narrow channels, catapulted up into
moonlit sprays, split apart, rejoined, and dropped down
into boiling cauldrons at the bottom of steep falls.
Shay was skimming just above the torrent, so low that
she lifted a wake every time she banked. Tally followed at
what she guessed was a safe distance, hoping her tricked-
up board was still reluctant to crash into the darkness-
cloaked rocks and tree branches. The forest to either side
was a black void full of wild and ancient trees, nothing like
the generic carbon-dioxide suckers that decorated the city.
The moonlit clouds above glowed through their branches
like a ceiling of pearl.
Every time Shay screamed, Tally knew she was about to
follow her friend through a wall of spray leaping up from
the maelstrom. Some shone like white lace curtains in the
moonlight, but others struck unexpectedly from the dark-
ness. Tally also found herself crashing through the arcs of