by Amy Braun
“You are not a threat to the world or your loved ones. We have seen your restraint, your control, your strength. If I had any doubt regarding you or what you were capable of, it has long since disappeared.”
I hesitated to ask my next question, especially with Hadrian’s weighted blue eyes on me, but I had to know.
“If we choose to stay… We won’t see you again, will we?”
Sorrow filled Vitae’s pale blue eyes. “No. Returning with us is a commitment. Time passes differently for us in our realm. What is an hour for us is a month for you. Zephys and Hadrian may watch you from the distance, but they must remember their duties as Guardians before anything else.”
She looked at Hadrian when she said this. My heart sank to the mud beneath me, which was now thick enough to swallow me whole. I was ready to let it.
I knew what Hadrian would choose. He might have cared about me, but he’d been a Guardian well before I was even a smidgen of thought. I couldn’t expect a happy future with him. Only a handful of people would know the truth of the Stormkind, the Precips, and the Mistrals. By the time the next Centennial came around, most of us would be dead. Sure, we could write records of what happened, but I didn’t want to put danger or pressure on the Guardians when they returned. Watching over humanoid storms was difficult enough. Being chased by shameless paparazzi and hounded by nosy reporters would seriously hinder their jobs. It was better if the truth stayed between a handful of people.
To know Hadrian would be watching me from a distance didn’t alleviate the pressure growing in my chest. He would be looking out for me, doing his job, but I would never see him. He was a good soldier, and I was one of the least subtle people I knew. I wasn’t going to do anything to get him in any kind of trouble, not when he was so recognizable.
So I had to say goodbye. Let him go.
No matter how much it hurt me.
“I’m staying here,” I whispered quietly. I dropped my eyes and pushed mud around with the tip of my shoe. “I need to know if my family is okay. I need to find them and… explain things.”
Even if they’re afraid of me now. My father’s words before the Mistrals released them echoed around my skull.
We love you, Ava. We love you so much.
It was the right choice. After all of this, skipping in and out of their lives with no explanation, it was wrong to make them think I was dead. They were like me. They wouldn’t give up hope. They would be looking for me at every SPU station, scanning the Missing Boards for a photo of me smiling, listening to any word of my location. If I went with the Guardians, I would never see them again, and that wasn’t a choice I could live with.
Piper shuffled to stand by my side. She put her arm around my shoulder and tugged me closer. Probably for her comfort as much as mine.
“I’m staying, too.” She looked at Zephys sadly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t leave my parents.”
Zephys hid his disappointment with a smile. “Perhaps it is just as well. I am sure we would be at each other’s throats before the end of day one.”
Piper laughed, probably for Zephys’s sake rather than her own.
We all stepped forward and hugged goodbye. True, we hadn’t known each other for very long, but I felt closer to these strangers than I had to most of my friends in college. Nothing brought people together quite like devastation did.
When Zephys pulled back from me, he turned his eyes to the right for a moment. Then he looked at Vitae. “I shall begin recovering the tempest-blades. Piper, would you mind watching over Vitae?”
My best friend squeezed my arm. There was only one more person I had to say goodbye to.
Wonder if there’s a way to delay this.
Perhaps it is best not to.
Damn mind reading.
With the others gone to give us space, I turned to face Hadrian. He’d moved closer to me during the goodbyes, and I didn’t find the lack of distance bothersome. In fact, I was wondering if I could convince him to come closer.
“So,” I mumbled.
When I didn’t add anything, he repeated, “So.”
“Are you upset that I’m not going with you?”
“No,” Hadrian replied quietly. I couldn’t find that spark I’d seen in his eyes when his internal walls collapsed. “I know how much your family means to you. The moment Vitae offered the choice, I knew what your answer would be. I would never have pushed you for another one.”
I looked up. “You didn’t want me to come with you?”
Hadrian’s somber eyes and tragic smile tugged at my heartstrings. “What I want is irrelevant in this situation, Ava. My care has always been for your contentment and safety.”
I should have left it at that. I shouldn’t have pushed deeper, searching for the truth about what I meant to him. But this would be the last time I saw him. I had to know.
“Why?”
Hadrian’s smile fell.
“Why did you care about keeping me safe? I keep thinking about what you said to me on the road, but what was I to you, really? Another charge, a friend, or…”
I trailed off. I hadn’t been accusing him of anything, keeping my tone level and calm. But when the silence grew in the seconds that passed, a hole grew in the pit of my stomach. I let my heart shine through my eyes, let him see I’d fallen for him. Showed him he was more than my protector and ally. He was more than just a friend. He was the person I’d fallen in love with.
And now he was leaving.
“Never mind,” I said, fighting tears and squeezing out a smile. “Stupid questions.” I held out my hand. “Thank you for everything, Hadrian. I owe you my life, and… I’m going to miss you.”
My voice nearly cracked on those last words, but I held it together. I didn’t want him to see me cry. I dropped my head and clutched his hand. Let my palm linger there long enough to memorize the texture of his calluses, the heat of his skin. Remembered how softly those fingers had brushed through my hair, and how I would have given almost anything to feel them again, when I didn’t need to be saved.
I shook his hand stupidly, thinking it would be better to let him see this like the end of a business arrangement or something.
“Take care of yourself, Hadrian.”
I loosened my fingers, but Hadrian didn’t let go. When I looked up, he had a stunned expression on his face, like an epiphany had occurred to him.
Uh oh.
Hadrian’s voice was almost too quiet for me to hear, but he might as well have shouted the words.
“Are you in love with me?”
I’ll never claim to be the fastest thinker on my feet. I could have done all kinds of things to make him think otherwise. I could have let go of his hand, looked confused, shaken my head, told him no. All of those possibilities, and I chose to stand there and stare at him like he was a light about to be snuffed out of my life.
Understanding hit his face, and I knew I’d screwed up.
I pulled my hand out of his and shoved it through my hair. A terrible idea, because I could still feel the warmth of his skin on mine. Images of him touching my face with perfect tenderness as I recovered in the infirmary slammed though my head, the memory of each gentle caress sending a splinter into my heart. The way he’d clung to me on the road, when he broke in a way that only I could see.
Hadrian’s hand hovered in the air like he didn’t know what to do with it. I might have laughed at his expression if I didn’t think I would burst into tears.
“I should get going,” I mumbled, wiping my hands on my jeans in an effort to clean them. All I was doing was smearing the mud to new places.
“I will take you home,” Hadrian said quietly.
“It’s okay,” I rushed out. “I think I can figure out my way back.”
But my Guardian was already in front of me, looping his arms around my back.
“I would prefer that you did not attempt to cross a wasteland in the middle of the night with no orientation and a variety of starved animals hungering for your f
lesh.”
I couldn’t help but fall into his chest when he closed his arms around me. “You make it sound like there are zombies out there instead of wolves and cougars.”
He chuckled. I pressed my cheek to his chest and let the warmth of him wrap around me. He only let go to take the swords from his back.
Pale light burned behind me. I pressed into Hadrian’s chest like I would melt into it. I closed my eyes as he leaned forward.
Falling through storm-sight wasn’t comfortable, but it didn’t last long. I thought it was a little creepy that Hadrian knew where I used to live, but I guess he had to know where his charges stayed when he was watching them from afar to make sure they didn’t have a mental collapse that caused them to destroy entire cities.
In seconds, it was over. Hadrian’s arms uncurled from me and I was able to back away. I missed his warmth as soon as it was gone, though turning around and seeing the remnants of my house took Hadrian from my mind.
The debris was cleared off, presumably taken and dumped in one of the man-made landfills. The lawn was clear of furniture. New frames were erected to give the house a set of bones with fuzzy pink insulation between them. Corrugated metal lay flat on the top to act as a makeshift roof. Ahead of me was a missing piece of insulation with a small yellow light glowing behind it.
A new house with a wide open door leading to my family. I almost cried at the sight of it.
And it wasn’t just our house that was being rebuilt. Next door and across the street, dozens of newly framed homes stood in various states of repair. Almost every one had a glowing yellow light inside it. Dozens of beacons of hope.
This was when I knew we would endure. No matter what the Stormkind threw at us, no matter what trials and obstacles, we would find a way to survive. We would learn from our mistakes, adapt from them, prepare for our children’s children. We were too strong to accept anything else.
“They will be so happy to see you again,” Hadrian said.
I turned and met his eyes. He was smiling that slow, mysterious smile that never failed to make my heart melt.
“I know,” I agreed. “I wish you could meet them. My brother would love you.”
Hadrian grinned, then swept a hand down the bloody, grimy, tattered and dented armor covering his body. “Perhaps when I am more presentable.”
He was doing everything I wanted him to. Everything that made my heart sing and adore him. It hurt too much to bear.
“Please don’t say those kinds of things.”
His grin faded. “Ava–”
“I made a mistake. I don’t know what I did to make you think that I...” I lowered my eyes. “I guess I hoped...”
“Hoped for what?” he asked when I didn’t answer.
My eyes burned. I couldn’t stop them from filling.
“That I wouldn’t just be a person you had to protect.”
I was going to break. I knew it. I had to get away from him before he saw it, or lied to make me feel better.
Hauling my head straight, I looked at Hadrian for one last time. It was hard to see him through the watery fog of my vision. I smiled as best as I could.
“Thank you again, Hadrian. Goodbye.”
I spun on my heel and all but ran into the house. Maybe I should have knocked, but I needed something I could trust. Something I understood, that would never hurt me.
Dad was the first to see me. He always was. He jumped to his feet, staring at me like I was a ghost.
That kind of made sense, since I had literally appeared out of nowhere.
James and my mother rose to their feet, their familiar faces basked in the welcoming yellow light of some kerosene lanterns. I took a breath to greet them, but I couldn’t even get a weak “Hi” out past my lips. I swallowed my hello and ran straight for them.
I crashed into my parents, a mess of tears and joy. They wrapped their arms around me, the same way they’d done when I returned from my lost week, the same way they had when I rescued them from the school.
But this time was different. This time, they knew I would stay. They knew I’d come home, and would never leave them again.
It was our unspoken, answered prayer.
It was over. Finally, we could rebuild.
Epilogue
One year later…
“Order up, Ava!”
I loved my job. I really did. But if I heard that command one more time, I was pretty sure I would scream.
Now that Papaya Cantina was completely refurbished and open, it was a madhouse. Since Mikey had been so popular with the construction crews (and had possibly bribed them with the possibility of future discounts), we had one of the first fully renovated restaurants in all of West Palm. I had to admit, the place looked fantastic. Sky blue wallpaper soaked in the sunlight when the curtains were drawn back and the windows were opened, bright circular light bulbs threaded over the roof and hooked into the generator in the kitchen, smooth beige tile beneath seashell white tables and chairs, and new dishware imported from Mexico. The North and South Americas really came together after the Centennial, knowing we had to help each other if our continent was going to recover. I was happy to hear how the coalition was still going strong over a year later.
As much as I liked working and keeping busy– trade was still the prominent form of payment, but banks were starting to recover financial data as well as structures– it was still strange to believe Papaya Cantina was the epicenter of hope in the remains of West Palm. In a way, it made sense. Normalcy was becoming commonplace again, with homes and apartments being rebuilt now that the last of the ruins had been carried away. The ration stations, medi-centers, and SPU stations were still standing and remained busy, but the need for them had lessened now that farmers were producing crops and trade could be made with other countries.
Electricity was spotty at the best of times and the Internet was still an uncatchable ghost (the people who’d been trapped underground until eleven months ago had a meltdown when they couldn’t access their Twitter accounts), but things were getting back on track.
It helped that the storms had stopped seven months ago.
For a little while, strange, scattered storms ranged over the country. Rumors of tornadoes in Nevada, dust storms in California, blizzards in New York, thunderstorms in Texas, and a few abrupt hurricanes in the Florida Keys kept us all on our toes. But the storms didn’t last for long. Nobody questioned why. Nobody knew but me, Piper, and my family. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to tell them the truth about what had happened to me, but since Mortis used them as a bargaining chip against me, how could I lie?
Truthfully, it was good to get the truth off my chest. I couldn’t keep it locked inside where it could destroy me. Not if I wanted to face the trauma and nightmares about what had happened to me. It became easier to be around people again. For the first while, it was hard. I didn’t want to have a panic attack and lose control. My gifts were dormant. I hadn’t had the urge to use them since that night in the crater, but I knew they were still there.
That’s why I worked with Piper. She volunteered as a yoga instructor, and I helped teach her classes when I wasn’t working as a waitress. I think the reason we had so many people attend our classes was because yoga was almost better than therapy. We could open our eyes, see the devastation around us, accept it, and breathe. What had happened, happened. There was nothing we could do about it. This was a time to heal, to help, and to move on.
Okay, so I stole Piper’s words from the speech she gives at the beginning of every class, but she was more eloquent than I was.
But her words were important, and some days, I needed them more than I cared to admit.
As I wove through the packed tables to set down plates, refill water glasses, and take new orders, snippets of conversation cut into my thoughts.
“I’m telling you, I saw one! A Stormkind controlled the lightning!”
“Of course it was a Stormkind. How the hell do you think we got snow in Florida?”
>
“Honest, the guy was some kind of medieval soldier. Fancy armor, two swords, everything. He took on the Stormkind like it was nothing!”
I cringed a little at the last statement, pretending it meant nothing to me, and that I wasn’t wondering which Guardian he was referring to.
Since only Piper and I knew the truth about the Stormkind and where they came from (we agreed not to mention this to our parents, since trusting them with the truth about the Guardians was risky enough), conspiracy theories became widespread. You name it, someone had an “answer” for it. Everything from aliens to angry spirits, witches, angels, demons, the Horsemen in the Apocalypse, fairies, and a screwed up government science experiment to control global warming were the most popular explanations for the Stormkind. Some of them made me laugh, others made me roll my eyes, and some of them made me want to scream. I could only imagine what the textbooks would say when history was written about the Stormkind to prepare our great grandchildren.
But I kept my mouth shut, did my yoga practices, worked at my job, helped my neighborhood rebuild, and thought about what I would do when the beach was open to swimmers again.
Despite the promising outlook to the future, there were still problems we needed to overcome, not just supply shortages and grief. The gangs still posed major threats to the vulnerable and the desperate. Lootings, robberies, and small riots were prominent at night, forcing the newly elected Governor of Florida to enact a statewide curfew that forbade anyone from being on the streets after dark. Those who were caught by police and riot patrols were arrested and thrown into one of the cleaned up prisons, no questions asked. It was harsh, but it was necessary. Murdering liars could wear a disarming and cheerful smile right until they stabbed you in the belly and stole everything but the clothes on your back.
And sometimes even those.
Tension was thick whenever a new law was passed, but I knew we would get back on track. Knowing the entire world had been on the precipice of total destruction, having felt the intensity of it as it spread, I knew we’d all get past whatever drama unfolded around us. Even if no one else knew it yet.