Paragon ✓

I. The Ceremony of Innocence

September 11, 2008.

It was a long way down.

Katia Yazykova stood at the precipice. The sun, sinking down into the Pacific, cast its rays across the water like scattered diamonds. They glinted enticingly, beckoning. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of her neck, and she thought of how nice it would be in the water, how refreshing. She stepped back, and prepared to jump.

"Are you coming down, or what?"

Ethan looked up at her from an outcropping of rock five meters below, hands tapping impatiently over his hips. His eyes narrowed with sudden realization. "You're not seriously considering that, Katia. You can't jump from the Spike."

Beside her foot, a rusted iron spike was plunged into the ground, like a warning. Katia leaned over and considered the distance. Estimating that a fall of thirty feet might split the soles of her feet on the water below, she'd kept her sandals on. The vertical drop would provide the fun; it was the horizontal distance that might prove problematic.

Ethan stood about five meters out from her. Beneath him, the cliff tapered into the sea at an angle, meaning she had to clear an additional three meters in order to reach the water. Eight meters was a fair distance to clear, but hardly impossible.

Not for her, anyway.

Katia licked her index finger and held it up to the sky.

The tailwind roughly negates air resistance, meaning horizontal velocity will remain constant throughout the initial phase of the fall.

She made up her mind. "Don't see why I can't."

"Don't be ridiculous. You can't clear that distance," Ethan warned.

Katia looked down, then back up, doing a quick calculation in her head. She determined the force needed to clear the slope of the cliff, and transfer that into velocity.

"Two meters per second," she concluded. "Should be fine."

Ethan rolled his eyes. He was used to her quick math skills. Sometimes they came in handy, so he didn't complain when they were just annoying. "Here's a calculation for you: You. Will. Kill. Yourself."

Katia disagreed. She tensed, took two quick steps, and leapt. The rush of air swallowed up her laughter as she plummeted toward the water, breaking the surface with a joyous shriek.

The water was fearsome cold. Katia floated mindlessly in the deep, sensing with a detached interest the way her veins imploded with chilly shock. A second splash, somewhere near, disturbed the submarine tranquility. She kicked up. Ethan popped up beside her, gasping furiously.

He grabbed her shoulders. "Don't ever do that again!"

A shiver passed through her, and Katia clamped down on a reflex to jerk away from his anger and his clutch. "Come on, Ethan. It was awesome. No one's done it before."

He shook his head, still treading water. His knees knocked against hers. "I don't know about awesome. It was insanely dangerous. No one's done it and survived before."

She grinned. "Before."

With an unwilling smile, he dunked her head underwater. She swam out of his grasp, popping up fifteen meters away, her tongue stuck out in a tease. Too cold to play, Ethan turned back to the shore. Reluctantly, she followed. Emerging onto the beach, sunshine prickled her skin. She lifted her arms, embracing warm air as she shed layers of icy water.

Ethan's lips were already blue as he pressed his arms to his chest, shuddering with cold. Turning away to hide her amusement, she arched her head back and shook out her hair. Just as she did, Katia caught a glimpse of a silhouette atop the cliff. She strained her eyes, wondering who might be watching. The figure turned and retreated abruptly.