Adamant Spirits

Swept Away-3

“You okay, Callum?”

He very slowly shook his head. “I … I’m not sure. I’m better with air, gasses, wind, atmospheric molecular concentrations and the like. Water is not really my forte. But…”

“So, you’re saying you’re full of hot air?” I joked lightly, trying to loosen his suddenly-serious mood. But there was no crack in his worried expression. I muttered a quick “sorryjustkidding,” but he turned and stared hard at the water as it trickled in the river basin, his focus intractable. “Callum, you’re making me nervous. What is it?”

“It’s like there is flow there,” he pointed to the river, “which makes sense because, well, river. But what I don’t get is that there is…” He closed his eyes tightly. “It’s like there is something moving in there … in the wall itself.” He shook his head again.

“You sure it’s not just the lake moving around?”

“I’m not really sure, no. But the lake’s motion is pretty repetitive and predictable at a given temperature. But … something … bah.” He threw his hands up. “It’s nothing. I bet it’s fine.” He crossed his arms with a dark expression I hadn’t ever seen on him. He continued bitterly, “no one would believe me anyhow.”

“Callum—”

“I’m going to go measure pH. At least I can do that without screwing it up.” He stalked off. His head low between his shoulders.

I pressed my lips together and stared at the wall. My Aeron ability was exceptionally poor. Any good grade I got in those classes was due to the overlap from chemistry and physics. Hard sciences, I could learn and memorize. But I couldn’t physically manipulate the atmosphere like the truly gifted, no matter how fervently I practiced. Callum was a difficult person, sure, but he was gifted and—I bit my lip—what if he was right?

I drifted toward the rebar I saw sticking just above the surface of the earth wall and casually leaned against it. Hopefully, if Tim looked over he would think I was just resting. I closed my eyes. Thick layers of rust muffled the hum of the metal, but the vibrant connections of the steel interspersed through the earthen structure lit up in my mind’s eye like a spider web. Each stick of metal connected and sang together with the others at the timeless pitch of the earth. Powdery rust glowed as it surrounded them all. I followed every solid line, and each appeared as expected. Maybe he wasn’t actually sensing anything at all.

But as a pit formed in my gut, I knew I found what he had detected.

One solid line of rebar looked like bites had been taken from its side. I frowned. The rust powder remained steady and dispersed behind it, but before the solid line, on the side of the bite, something was … shifting. Downward. It was like watching drips on the car window. Unhurried. But moving, downward, downward, combining and accelerating.

I noted the pipe above the eroded metal line which had no bites in it, but …. a tangy taste similar to Mexican mole filled my mouth—the taste of lead—dripping from the base of the steel pipe. The drips of rust followed the pipe, growing. They moved past the eroded line of rebar, down under the earth toward the river.

A solid hand grabbed my shoulder. I gasped and whirled.

“You okay?” Xavier asked, glancing behind him toward Tim before dropping his voice low. “I’ve called your name a few times.”

I cleared my throat and brushed off my hands before I shoved them in my pockets to stop the shaking. “Not really. Callum said he felt something off, and I think he’s right.” Callum glanced up from his crouch by the water’s edge at the sound of his name. “The iron is moving in the wall. There is lead dripping too. Callum says he can feel flow of water in the wall itself.”

“Like, the flow of the pipes.”

“Not the pipes. Between the pipes. Around the pipes. I saw metal trickling down and around the pipes. Like the ground is being swept away by water. Sweeping the metals with it.” As we spoke, Callum came and stood beside us.

“There is a lot of silt in the river. Tim just said it was more than we’d expect from an old lake with a solid dam.” Xavier pushed back his hair, threading his fingers through the blonde locks. “Well, this dam is not doing well, then.”

“Seems that way. We need be sure Tim’s report is urgent enough to start repairs. I don’t know how to estimate how long a dam has left before …” We both glanced down the mountainside, toward the campsites and the city.

“Well, let’s do our best to find all the problems that can be explained with normal science and help Tim write the report.”

I nodded, but worried my cuticle with my nail. The weight of our responsibilities—to keep our giftings a secret and also prevent a dam failure—felt heavy. Xavier reached out and took my hand in his. I felt a warm sense of peace threaded through his touch. My gaze flipped from our hands to his face.

“It’s going to be okay, Titania.”

Each beat of my heart was accompanied by a warm squeeze of soothing calm. I followed the sensation down my arm. “Your other gifting is Qalb?”

He nodded. “Just a little. Enough to sense and send emotions.” He shrugged. “And hopefully soothe and support, in this case.”

My chest heaved in a big breath, the tightness lessened at his touch. “Well, that is very helpful.” I flicked my gaze upward to his. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Neither of us moved. His green eyes flickered with something I couldn’t name, still as piercing, but his curiosity took an edge, a hunger, like an ache to know more. I wasn’t sure who’s emotion it actually was anymore.

“Are we doing a teamwork cheer?” Callum said loudly beside us.

Xavier and I ripped our hands apart. I tucked my hair behind my ear as Xavier grabbed Callum’s shoulders and steered him toward Tim. Xavier glanced back to me with a wink.

I struggled to breathe again. My cheeks heated as I watched Xavier walk away. I’d had crushes before, even a few dates, but this feeling was foreign. It was something scarier. My gut twisted, split between the desire to stick to my predetermined plan and a new desire to move in the direction of him. To run toward him and press into his kindness, into his embrace. And … and…

What was I thinking? I dragged a hand across my face.

We were schoolmates. Doing homework. I had to graduate at the top of our class. Get the job. Follow the plan. Leave for MIT. Xavier and these betraying fluttering feelings were not in the plan. Right now, though, I couldn’t remember why the plan was so important in the first place.

Tim had also seen the signs that the dam was failing, which meant the dam was in really bad shape. We didn’t have to reveal any magic-found facts, but we did encourage stronger word choices in the report. It was certain to trigger some repairs, right?

“Probably,” Tim replied when I asked the question aloud. “The department is stretched thin, and people are more worried about the drought in the plains right now than the old dams up here.”

Yet, Tim’s face was set in a grim sideways line. “I’ll need to take this back down to town. I only need one of you to come with me, and the other two are welcome to wait at the second campsite. We’ll meet you there tomorrow morning with the bracers and temporary fixes.” He fished something out of his backpack. “Here’s your radio. Don’t worry, the dam needs some repairs, but it should make it at least six months, probably a year, and maybe even two with the supports we’ll add tomorrow.”

“I volunteer!” Callum’s hand shot up. “I’ll come to town. Can we get food? Are we staying in a hotel? Can I shower?”

Tim nodded, distracted, as he repacked his things. “We’ll restock some supplies. You guys will get to see the next steps to dam repair. More than the other students will get to see. This is exciting stuff.”

I wasn’t sure “exciting” was the word I would have chosen. But, I did want to stay at the campsite. I did buy all that equipment after all. We parted at the second camp, with a wave and a set of instructions to not, under any circumstances, go up to the dam. Each step that Callum and Tim took away from Xavier and me ratcheted the tension that was building in my gut. By choosing to stay, it meant Xavier and I were alone. Very, very alone. Alone on one of the prettiest trails in Colorado.

The silence was thick as Xavier and I prepared camp, but it wasn’t the hostile tension that Callum and I had the prior evening. It felt weighty, like we were on the precipice of something. Exciting, but perilous. After struggling again for at least thirty whole seconds, I gave up on my rapid release tent. Instead, I used my metallurgy to pop that tent into shape with a single raise of my hand. So much easier. I gave the siding of the tent a shove. Much more stable.

“Cheater.” Xavier winked at me.

“Work harder not smarter?” I shook my head. “No wait…”

He chuckled. “Well for me, metallurgy would be hard. Impossibly hard. I’d have to rely on the good ol’ elastic snaps the ungifted engineers made for us plebians.”

I sat beside him. The fire crackled at our feet, and Xavier started unpacking can after can, followed by chips and apples and oat-y trail mix.

“What in the world are you making?”

“Well. I don’t have fresh beef for fajitas. So it’s campfire nacho night,” Xavier said. “Would you cut this please.” He passed me an avocado. “And we are going to have apple crisp for dessert.”

“That definitely goes together.”

“No one says it has to make sense. I’m not making flan out here or … or sopapillas. But even if it is perhaps, possibly, maybe a little random, I promise it will all be delicious.”

I deftly sliced the avocado and was handed apples next. Soon cheesy, beany, cumin-y scents filled the air. We plunged in with our tortilla chips and happily munch-crunched together.

“What’s your mom do?” Xavier asked.

“She was a teacher, taught calculus. But she’s been sick lately.” Suddenly the chip I was chewing got stuck in my throat. I struggled to get the words out. “Breast cancer.”

I picked at my dinner as I avoided Xavier’s empathetic frown. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay. She keeps fighting. We thought she had it beat a few years ago. But you know how it goes. Dad seems to think there may be another therapy. He’s been in contact with gifted and non-gifted centers. Maybe she can get into a trial. But it … it really doesn’t look good. You know … cancer … they say it’s everywhere.”

“Cancer.” He wrung his hands together. Distant. The silence cracked. “I lost my sister to lymphoma.”

“Oh, Xavier. I’m so sorry.”

“It hit hard and fast and she was gone in a month.” His breath shuddered in and out. “My parents did everything they could. The loss was … horrible. I couldn’t have made it through without my family. It made them both more protective of me and more committed to helping me experience as much of life as possible. It made all of us painfully aware of how short life can be.”

“I couldn’t imagine.” I paused. “Your parents … they sound amazing.”

“For the most part. They aren’t perfect. But they mean well. My dad was likely high as a kite and protesting most of the sixties, and Mom was literally raised in a hippie commune, so now that they are adults and professionals, I do think it’s ironic when they try to guide my behavior or push me to excel in school. But I know they do it out of love. And out of a desire to honor my sister.” A flood of memories poured through my mind as I pictured my own father. Why did he push me so hard? Was that also love?