She was flying, skimming the ground with no track underher, not even a hoverboard, keeping herself aloft by sheerwillpower and the wind in her outspread jacket. She skirtedthe edge of a massive cliff that overlooked a huge, blackocean. A flock of seabirds pursued her, their wild screamsbeating at her ears like Dr. Cable’s razor-edged voice.
Suddenly, the stony cliffs beneath her cracked and fissured.
A huge rift opened up, the ocean rushing in with aroar that drowned the seabirds’ cries. She found herself tumblingthrough the air, falling down toward the black water.
The ocean swallowed her, filling her lungs, freezing herheart so that she couldn’t cry out. . . .
“No!” Tally shouted, sitting bolt upright.
A cold wind off the sea struck her face, clearing herhead. Tally looked around, realizing that she was up on thecliffs, tangled in her sleeping bag. Tired, hungry, and desperateto pee, but not falling into oblivion.
She took a deep breath. The seabirds still cried aroundher, but in the distance.
That last dream had been only one of many fallingnightmares.
Night was coming, the sun setting over the ocean, turningthe water bloodred. Tally pulled her shirt and jacket onbefore daring to emerge from the sleeping bag. The temperatureseemed to be dropping by the minute, the lightfading before her eyes. She hurried to get ready to go.
The hoverboard was the tricky part. Its unfolded surfacehad gotten wet, covered with a fine layer of oceanspray and dew. Tally tried to wipe it off with her jacketsleeve, but there was too much water and not enoughjacket. The wet board folded up easily enough, but it felttoo heavy when she was done, as if the water was stilltrapped between the layers. The board’s operation lightturned yellow, and Tally looked closely. The sides of theboard were gradually oozing the water away. “Fine. Givesme time to eat.”
Tally pulled out a packet of SpagBol, then realized thather purifier was empty. The only ready source of water wasat the bottom of the cliff, and there was no way down. Shewrung out her wet jacket, which produced a few goodsquooshes, then scraped off handfuls of the water oozingfrom the board until the purifier was half-full. The result wasa dense, overspiced SpagBol that required lots of chewing.
By the time she was done with the unhappy meal, theboard’s light had turned green.
“Okay, ready to go,” Tally said to herself. But where?
UGLIES 157She stood still, pondering, one foot on the board and oneon the ground.
Shay’s note read, “At the second make the worstmistake.”
Making a mistake shouldn’t be that hard. But what wasthe worst mistake? She’d almost killed herself once todayalready.
Tally remembered her dream. Falling into the gorgewould count as a pretty bad mistake. She stepped onto theboard and edged it to the crumbling end of the bridge,looking down to where the river met the sea far below.
If she climbed down, her only possible path would beto follow the river upstream. Maybe that’s what the cluemeant. But the steep cliff showed no obvious path, not evena handhold.
Of course, a vein of iron in the cliff might carry her downsafely. Her eyes scanned the walls of the gorge, searching forthe reddish color of iron. A few spots looked promising, butin the growing darkness, she couldn’t be certain.
“Great.” Tally realized that she’d slept too long. Waitingfor dawn would be twelve hours lost, and she didn’t haveany more water.
The only other option was to hike upriver atop the cliff.
But it might be days before she reached a place to climbdown. And how would she see it at night?
She had to make up time, not blunder around in the dark.
Tally swallowed, coming to a decision. There had to be158 Scott Westerfelda way down on her board. Maybe she was making a mistake,but that’s what the clue called for. She edged the boardoff the bridge until it began to lose purchase. It slippeddown the cliffside, descending faster as it left the metal ofthe track behind.
Tally’s eye searched desperately for any sign of iron inthe cliff. She eased the board forward, bringing it closer tothe wall of stone, but saw nothing. A few of the board’smetal-detector lights flickered out. Any lower, and she wasgoing to fall.
This wasn’t going to work. Tally snapped her fingers.
The board slowed for a second, trying to climb, but thenshivered and continued to descend.
Too late.
Tally spread her jacket, but the air in the gorge was still.
She spotted a rusty-looking streak in the wall of stone andcoaxed the board closer, but it turned out to be just a slimysmear of lichen. The board slipped downward faster andfaster, the metal-detector lights flickering out one by one.
Finally, the board went dead.
Tally realized that this mistake might be her last.
She fell like a rock, down toward the crashing waves.
Just like in the dream, her voice felt choked by a freezinghand, as if her lungs were already filled with water. Theboard tumbled below her, spinning like a falling leaf.
Tally closed her eyes, waiting for the shattering impactof cold water.
UGLIES 159Suddenly, something grabbed her by the wrists andyanked her up cruelly, spinning her in the a............