Afterburn by Karen L. Abrahamson
The afterburn never came, and neither did Xavier.
The swaying cedars and the scent of Lake Washington water greeted Vallon as she parked her Subaru beside Landon’s practical little white Nissan and climbed out in the parking lot by the wharf that had moored Xavier’s houseboat. She swayed with the double vision of the place—as if she both saw it and was it—a feeling she still hadn’t quite been able to shake even now, two weeks after the quake hit the City. Not that she was sure she wanted to.
Landon waited at the edge of the trees.
“How’s the AGS?” she asked.
“As well as can be expected under the new management.” He wore an uncharacteristic grey suit, and with his diminutive frame he could have been a child dressed up for a wedding, or the last elf in the world.
She shook her head. “And you?”
“Finding my way. I must say that little episode in the city really threw me for a loop.”
Trust Landon to use understatement.
“There’s speculation they’re going to evict me from the apartment,” he said.
“That sucks. You’ll have a tough time replacing that kitchen.” She crossed to him, gravel crunching under her new Doc Martins, her chest a little tight.
“How’s Fi?”
“Doing okay. A little freaked by everything that happened, and she still isn’t quite the girl I remember.” Vallon shook her head. “It’s sad. Fi’s going to be dealing with her addiction for the rest of her life. But she seems to be settling in to the house. Thanks again for advocating for it to be changed back.”
“The least they could do.”
“I doubt it.”
“And Jason?”
“He got out of hospital today. He’s staying at his partner’s for a while. How’s Gleason doing?”
“So far, good. Managing to keep Amundson busy changing the visuals but away from the heart of the AGS.”
“I appreciate whatever he did to get me my freedom.”
“It cost him. He gave up his office.”
She couldn’t quite bring herself to feel sorry for him, but, “Tell him thanks.”
Seattle’s underpinnings had mostly been repaired, the Gift’s damage undone, though the earthquake damage would take a lot longer to repair. So everyone was alive and well and dealing with the change.
Everyone but Xavier. She turned toward the trees and inhaled the cedar scent, remembering how she had come here with him. And what had happened. She sighed, and then pulled herself away.
“You okay?”Landon looked up at her, a concerned gnome.
“Fine.”
“It’s okay to still be finding your feet after the hospital, Pigeon. I am.”
“I’m fine, Landon. No worse than you, except I won’t be running any races in the near future.” The sulfuric acid had scarred her lungs. Doctors were still hoping they’d heal.
“You’ve got that look in your eyes, Pigeon. What are you thinking?”
That made her smile. “Just how different things are. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be here last time.”
“And you are now?”
She looked away because she hadn’t been back since her escape with Xavier, though she’d wanted to. “It’s the right thing to do. If anyone can make heads or tails of Xavier’s stuff, it’s you.”
“You’re sure?”
She nodded.
“Then let’s get this over with.”
Regardless of his words, he couldn’t hide his excitement from her. After the bond they’d formed to deal with the magma core, she didn’t think she’d ever be able to fully break the connection to Landon or Fi. She’d never feel fully alone again, and she hadn’t had time to decide if she liked it.
She led him into the trees and down to the water where she and Xavier had left the houseboat tethered, a pang of grief settling next to her heart. It should have been Xavier she was with.
In some ways she’d rather keep this place away from prying eyes, but Homeland Security already knew of it, and the information in the computers she’d seen would be invaluable to Landon’s research. By their very existence they answered his questions about the presence of other Gifted.
“Landon, I asked you something before, but you never gave me an answer.” She paused for effect. “What do you know about ‘Gild the Lily’?”
She heard his step falter, but she didn’t turn. In some ways the question was a test, to see if he’d come clean and if she really should trust him, regardless of their bond.
He cleared his throat. “A long time ago, Pigeon, your father and a group of agents, including myself, postulated that it wasn’t enough for the AGS to just be a protective arm of government. We hypothesized that there was a place within the AGS for Gifted to assume a—shall we say—a more proactive role.”
“As weapons.”
More silence and then, “Yes.”
“That’s the one thing I didn’t tell Gleason in debriefing.” Well maybe not the only thing. “That’s why Rebecca did what she did. She said Gifted caused the Indian Ocean tsunami, that killed two of her daughters. She wanted revenge for something the AGS never did.” She turned to him. “Unless you know something I don’t.”
He met her eye to eye and shook his head.
If he were lying he was very, very good. If it were the truth, she suspected they had bigger problems.
“Good. Then I don’t have to kill you.”
She could see he wasn’t sure if she meant it, and she wasn’t going to clarify it for him.
A beat and then, “So why do you think she said that?”
“She was crazy, Vallon. Anyone who would try what she did is totally, utterly, crazy.”
But the words didn’t quite ring true. There was something he wasn’t telling her, but when had Landon Snow ever revealed all his secrets? She would have to look into it.
The air smelled of cedar and rain and the new growth of huckleberry growing under the eaves of the trees as she led him down to the shore. She stopped.
The clear water of Lake Washington reflected the clouds and blue sky. It gurgled under the empty dock that pointed towards Briercrest and the afternoon sun. No houseboat.
“What the hell.” She stepped down to the dock, her tread echoing through the water and turned back to the shore and Landon. “I don’t understand.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “Well, either Homeland Security is better at their business than I want to think, or someone else is. I’m betting on the someone else.”
They spent fifteen minutes exploring the shore, but there was no sign of anyone who might have moved the houseboat. Landon left her in the parking lot and she folded herself behind the wheel, taking comfort in the old denim and leather she wore, regardless of Homeland Security’s dress code.
That the houseboat was gone she should have foreseen, but she hadn’t expected the confusing hope and despair it gave her.
She turned the key and spun out of the parking lot, heading for the city and the obsessive last job that would triangulate her map.
Broadway looked different in sunshine. The AGS had worked overtime to heal Seattle’s towers, and along Broadway the usual suspects of University and college students and ‘artistes’ filled the sidewalks, sipping their lattes at outside coffee houses. The mélange of delicatessens, drycleaners, and import shops sent their various odors into the air as Vallon pulled to the curb and climbed out of her car, determined to do what she always did and bring the heritage house back.
But it was there.
Unbelievably, it was there, and she hadn’t done it. No parking lot; the blue heritage house stood at 1525 Broadway, its white fence overhung by the willows and cedar hedging that shaded that part of the sidewalk, the entire scene still with the shiny look of new skin. She didn’t live here, but this spot would always be where it all began.
The fact it was here at all suggested the garage, Simon’s death, and Xavier had all been a dream, but the tightness in her chest belied it.
Vallon s
topped at the gate, wondering who at the AGS had done the job for her. Gleason, possibly. She’d come to realize he was an ally.
A whiff of ozone and incense and cedar caught her nose.
Not Gleason.
Not anyone at the AGS.
She scanned the streets, -reached-, but there was no figure in black watching her. But it was definitely incense and cedar of Lebanon and the pain around her heart eased.
Hope could do that. So could wanting someone in your life. Xavier’s final gift?
No way.
It was the determination to find him.
The swaying cedars and the scent of Lake Washington water greeted Vallon as she parked her Subaru beside Landon’s practical little white Nissan and climbed out in the parking lot by the wharf that had moored Xavier’s houseboat. She swayed with the double vision of the place—as if she both saw it and was it—a feeling she still hadn’t quite been able to shake even now, two weeks after the quake hit the City. Not that she was sure she wanted to.
Landon waited at the edge of the trees.
“How’s the AGS?” she asked.
“As well as can be expected under the new management.” He wore an uncharacteristic grey suit, and with his diminutive frame he could have been a child dressed up for a wedding, or the last elf in the world.
She shook her head. “And you?”
“Finding my way. I must say that little episode in the city really threw me for a loop.”
Trust Landon to use understatement.
“There’s speculation they’re going to evict me from the apartment,” he said.
“That sucks. You’ll have a tough time replacing that kitchen.” She crossed to him, gravel crunching under her new Doc Martins, her chest a little tight.
“How’s Fi?”
“Doing okay. A little freaked by everything that happened, and she still isn’t quite the girl I remember.” Vallon shook her head. “It’s sad. Fi’s going to be dealing with her addiction for the rest of her life. But she seems to be settling in to the house. Thanks again for advocating for it to be changed back.”
“The least they could do.”
“I doubt it.”
“And Jason?”
“He got out of hospital today. He’s staying at his partner’s for a while. How’s Gleason doing?”
“So far, good. Managing to keep Amundson busy changing the visuals but away from the heart of the AGS.”
“I appreciate whatever he did to get me my freedom.”
“It cost him. He gave up his office.”
She couldn’t quite bring herself to feel sorry for him, but, “Tell him thanks.”
Seattle’s underpinnings had mostly been repaired, the Gift’s damage undone, though the earthquake damage would take a lot longer to repair. So everyone was alive and well and dealing with the change.
Everyone but Xavier. She turned toward the trees and inhaled the cedar scent, remembering how she had come here with him. And what had happened. She sighed, and then pulled herself away.
“You okay?”Landon looked up at her, a concerned gnome.
“Fine.”
“It’s okay to still be finding your feet after the hospital, Pigeon. I am.”
“I’m fine, Landon. No worse than you, except I won’t be running any races in the near future.” The sulfuric acid had scarred her lungs. Doctors were still hoping they’d heal.
“You’ve got that look in your eyes, Pigeon. What are you thinking?”
That made her smile. “Just how different things are. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be here last time.”
“And you are now?”
She looked away because she hadn’t been back since her escape with Xavier, though she’d wanted to. “It’s the right thing to do. If anyone can make heads or tails of Xavier’s stuff, it’s you.”
“You’re sure?”
She nodded.
“Then let’s get this over with.”
Regardless of his words, he couldn’t hide his excitement from her. After the bond they’d formed to deal with the magma core, she didn’t think she’d ever be able to fully break the connection to Landon or Fi. She’d never feel fully alone again, and she hadn’t had time to decide if she liked it.
She led him into the trees and down to the water where she and Xavier had left the houseboat tethered, a pang of grief settling next to her heart. It should have been Xavier she was with.
In some ways she’d rather keep this place away from prying eyes, but Homeland Security already knew of it, and the information in the computers she’d seen would be invaluable to Landon’s research. By their very existence they answered his questions about the presence of other Gifted.
“Landon, I asked you something before, but you never gave me an answer.” She paused for effect. “What do you know about ‘Gild the Lily’?”
She heard his step falter, but she didn’t turn. In some ways the question was a test, to see if he’d come clean and if she really should trust him, regardless of their bond.
He cleared his throat. “A long time ago, Pigeon, your father and a group of agents, including myself, postulated that it wasn’t enough for the AGS to just be a protective arm of government. We hypothesized that there was a place within the AGS for Gifted to assume a—shall we say—a more proactive role.”
“As weapons.”
More silence and then, “Yes.”
“That’s the one thing I didn’t tell Gleason in debriefing.” Well maybe not the only thing. “That’s why Rebecca did what she did. She said Gifted caused the Indian Ocean tsunami, that killed two of her daughters. She wanted revenge for something the AGS never did.” She turned to him. “Unless you know something I don’t.”
He met her eye to eye and shook his head.
If he were lying he was very, very good. If it were the truth, she suspected they had bigger problems.
“Good. Then I don’t have to kill you.”
She could see he wasn’t sure if she meant it, and she wasn’t going to clarify it for him.
A beat and then, “So why do you think she said that?”
“She was crazy, Vallon. Anyone who would try what she did is totally, utterly, crazy.”
But the words didn’t quite ring true. There was something he wasn’t telling her, but when had Landon Snow ever revealed all his secrets? She would have to look into it.
The air smelled of cedar and rain and the new growth of huckleberry growing under the eaves of the trees as she led him down to the shore. She stopped.
The clear water of Lake Washington reflected the clouds and blue sky. It gurgled under the empty dock that pointed towards Briercrest and the afternoon sun. No houseboat.
“What the hell.” She stepped down to the dock, her tread echoing through the water and turned back to the shore and Landon. “I don’t understand.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “Well, either Homeland Security is better at their business than I want to think, or someone else is. I’m betting on the someone else.”
They spent fifteen minutes exploring the shore, but there was no sign of anyone who might have moved the houseboat. Landon left her in the parking lot and she folded herself behind the wheel, taking comfort in the old denim and leather she wore, regardless of Homeland Security’s dress code.
That the houseboat was gone she should have foreseen, but she hadn’t expected the confusing hope and despair it gave her.
She turned the key and spun out of the parking lot, heading for the city and the obsessive last job that would triangulate her map.
Broadway looked different in sunshine. The AGS had worked overtime to heal Seattle’s towers, and along Broadway the usual suspects of University and college students and ‘artistes’ filled the sidewalks, sipping their lattes at outside coffee houses. The mélange of delicatessens, drycleaners, and import shops sent their various odors into the air as Vallon pulled to the curb and climbed out of her car, determined to do what she always did and bring the heritage house back.
But it was there.
Unbelievably, it was there, and she hadn’t done it. No parking lot; the blue heritage house stood at 1525 Broadway, its white fence overhung by the willows and cedar hedging that shaded that part of the sidewalk, the entire scene still with the shiny look of new skin. She didn’t live here, but this spot would always be where it all began.
The fact it was here at all suggested the garage, Simon’s death, and Xavier had all been a dream, but the tightness in her chest belied it.
Vallon s
A whiff of ozone and incense and cedar caught her nose.
Not Gleason.
Not anyone at the AGS.
She scanned the streets, -reached-, but there was no figure in black watching her. But it was definitely incense and cedar of Lebanon and the pain around her heart eased.
Hope could do that. So could wanting someone in your life. Xavier’s final gift?
No way.
It was the determination to find him.