Ash (4 page)

“I’m afraid I don’t have a pen,” Madden replied.

“Oh,” Laira said. “But maybe you could take it home and sign it?” she rushed on, holding the book toward Madden hopefully. “Whenever is fine.”

Madden looked at her, then looked at me and pursed her lips. She plucked the book from Laira’s hand. “I’d be happy to,” she said.

With that, Madden turned and walked away, Bas right behind her. Once she was gone the rest of the group dispersed.

“Dax, what were you thinking?” Laira moaned once we were alone. “Are you trying to ruin my life?”

“Are you serious?” I asked, stunned. “Did you hear the way they were talking about you? Bas laughed about you getting
run over
, Laira.”

Laira shook her head. “It was just a stupid joke. I know he didn’t mean it. And Madden stood up for me.”

I took a deep breath. Laira’s ability for self-deception was staggering. “Laira, I saw you. Madden and her boyfriend practically had you in tears. Just because they were born with ultra destinies doesn’t make them any better than us.”

“I don’t know, Dax,” Laira replied. “Remember what Doctor Og always says? ‘The deeper a destiny carves the path, the more responsibility it demands.’ The Purples work hard to make our lives better. All of our lives.”

I didn’t need Laira’s particular brand of cheering up right now. “That’s one way to look at it. Or you could say they need to work that much harder to be better people. Bastin Worthington deserved what he got.”

Laira groaned. “Dax, you just can’t go around making fun of Bastin. Or Madden. If anyone knows that
everyone
matters, it’s Madden. She’s going to be one of the Seven. They know that every destiny is important—even an Ash’s. That’s why
everyone
…” She stopped as she realized what she was saying. “Um, never mind.” She dropped her head down and kicked a pebble with her shoe.

“It’s okay,” I said. “You can finish. That’s why everyone matters. Because everyone has a destiny. Everyone but a Blank.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, still not looking up. “You know that doesn’t matter to me.”

“It’s fine,” I told her, and I actually meant it. After all, I was one of the .001 percent in our society who was born a Blank—someone who had no destiny to harvest at birth, no purpose, no future. I was used to people ripping on my status; even most Ashes didn’t want to be associated with me. But Laira never cared about my standing, and she hadn’t meant anything by it. “I don’t want to fight,” I told her. “You just completed your destiny. And my brother’s about to complete his. We should be celebrating.” I took a breath and put on a smile. I really did want this to be a good day. “So tell me,” I said, “what does it feel like triggering something that could have major consequences?”

Just like that the mood lightened. “It’s pretty ultra,” she said. “To be honest, I was a little worried about what would happen once I completed my destiny. I’ve been waiting my whole life for it, you know? What am I supposed to do now that it’s over?”

I nodded. It was a common reaction of the Post-Destiny crowd, and if I couldn’t exactly understand, I could still empathize.

Laira grinned. “But if I triggered something, can you imagine? My destiny could ripple, affect other people, maybe even the world. Dax, my ring could even be reassigned. It means there’s something to look forward to again.”

The chances that her ring designation would be altered were slim to none. But Laira was happy, so I went along with it. “You never know.”

“And don’t worry,” she said, linking her arm through mine. Her voice took on a teasing tone. “We can still hang out when I’m a Purple. I’d never judge someone by their ring.”

I just laughed. “Come on, walk faster. Aldan’s race starts in less than three hours. If I don’t get home and ready soon, my mom will kill me. We can’t be late.”

“That’s right,” she said. “You wouldn’t want to miss a nanosecond of Theron Oliver’s announcements.”

“It’s not about Theron,” I protested. “It’s about Aldan.” I could feel my face reddening.

“Uh huh,” she said as we walked further down the lawn toward the light rail. “And that’s why you borrowed a dress for the race—to impress your brother?”

She’d kind of hit the nail on the head with her Theron comment. I
did
want to wear something to catch his attention. My mom rarely let my family spend our limited funds on clothes for me. Especially not on something as frivolous as a dress, not when there were months we could barely pay our bills. She said it was a waste when my seven older brothers had “perfectly good” clothes they had outgrown.

Which is to say that she’d long ago perfected the art of bleaching and dyeing my brother’s hand-me-downs to appear Ash-appropriate. Even though I knew there was no real future for me and Theron, I still wished it could happen. There were times I swear I’d catch him looking at me—and not like his friend’s kid sister. If wearing one of Laira’s dresses would get him to really notice me, I was willing to give it a try. There was no way I was admitting it, though.

“No. I just feel like dressing up, that’s all,” I lied as we walked on.

“Sure,” she agreed between giggles. “It has nothing to do with how funny he is or popular… or what was it you said last week? Something about how cute guys with freckles are?”

My answering glare just made her laugh all the harder as we approached Sol. He was still stretched out on the stone wall surrounding the school, busily tapping something into his wrist tracker. Ink black hair spilled down over one of his eyes, and he tucked it behind his ear as we approached.

“Nice one out there,” he told me. “That was a Revenant move if ever I’ve seen one.” He karate chopped the air with a flourish.

“Yeah, right,” I said with a grin. The Revenants were a myth, though times like today I wished they were real. I gave the air a few jabs of my own in response—a left hook, then a right, pretending it was Bastin Worthington’s head.

“I take it back,” Sol said. “With moves like that, you couldn’t pay them to take you.”

“Hey!” I said, but laughed all the same. Sol could be funny when he wanted to be. Especially for a guy who wouldn’t be around much longer.

“Though while I have your attention, perhaps you’d be interested in a friendly

wager on tonight’s race? I already have a grid going on speed, times, rankings. I haven’t been able to get anyone to bet on first place yet. Dax, how about it?”

Laira rolled her eyes at him. Partially because what he was asking was ridiculous and partially because gambling was illegal. Not that Sol really cared about the rules; he had a whole side business hacking into the school’s computers to steal exams and change grades.

“No thanks,” I said, fluttering my fingers in a wave as Laira and I turned to go.

We all knew who tonight’s champion would be. And I knew better than to bet against destiny.

“B
e ready at four-fifteen sharp,” I told Bas as I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and ran toward Perse Manor. Times like this—the times that I’m off schedule even by a few minutes—my home can feel more than a little overbearing. It sits back several hundred yards from the road and all but the third story turrets are hidden by the surrounding hedges. I raced up to the front door, anxious to tell my father about my part in today’s arrest. I knew he’d be proud. I was taken aback to see him standing in the foyer waiting for me with folded arms.

“You’re late,” he said.

“I know, but—”

“I don’t want excuses,” he said, before I could explain my tardiness.

“If you’d just let me—”

He cut me off again. “Look up there.”

Above my head hung a crystal chandelier, and from that hung an old-fashioned sundial. Time’s shadow stretched over the purple veins in our marbled floor, stopping next to my feet. I was twenty minutes late.

“I keep that in our entranceway as a reminder,” my father said. “A reminder of how important time is. You, of all people, should understand that.” His voice echoed through the large space.

“I have a good reason,” I answered softly.

He shook his head. He wasn’t looking for an explanation; he was looking for an apology. “You knew you were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago. There is a schedule to keep. You have responsibilities to this country, as do I.”

No kidding. He reminded me of them every single day. All that mattered to him was his precious schedule.

“It’ll be fine,” I replied. “I don’t need a full two hours to get ready. I set my hair last night and Nora already laid out my dress.” I wanted to add that this conversation was wasting more time than it took me to get home, but I stopped myself. You didn’t mess with my father when he had that look in his eyes.

“That’s not the point,” he said. “It’s my job to make sure you’re safe and where you need to be when you’re supposed to be there.”

I studied a particularly wide vein of purple cutting through the floor. I wondered how he’d feel when he found out I’d had a run-in with a criminal. So much for keeping me safe. But I wasn’t going to say anything. Not now. He could find out from someone else. “It’s not like you didn’t know where I was,” I said instead. “My wrist tracker was turned on. You could have pinged me. You would have seen I was still at school.”

“I shouldn’t have to ping you. You’re going to be one of the world’s most important leaders next year. You shouldn’t need your father tracking you down like some delinquent Ash. You are Madden Sumner, future Minister of the Seven.”

His chest swelled as he said those last five words. It was like my destiny was all he cared about. Well, aside from his own.

“I know that.”

“Then act like it. You owe it to your people.”

I hated to admit it, but he was right. He was
always
right. I had a responsibility. I shouldn’t have wasted time dealing with Dax Harris.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I won’t be late again.”

“Good,” he said. “Now go get ready. The car will be by to pick you up shortly.”

“Aren’t you coming with me?” I looked up at him in surprise.

His eyes were cold and impatient. “I’ve given up my seat. Tonight’s race isn’t the only thing happening in this city. I have important business to attend to at the UV.”

“You’re not coming at all?” I asked. We were finally going to do something fun together, and I’d been looking forward to it since last year’s championship.

“My duty is to all the rings, not just you, Madden. Try to remember that.”

“Of course,” I replied, biting back the words I really wanted to say.
Don’t you remember what it used to be like? When you still laughed once in a while? When you thought of me as your daughter instead of a future minister?

But he probably didn’t. The laughter had left the house right around the time my mother did. Vanders Sumner didn’t mess around with fun and games anymore. His destiny was to guard and protect, and since my mother’s death he took it seriously. He was the government’s Chief of Security. He would protect his country. He would protect his daughter. And at the rate he was going, he would protect himself from ever feeling anything, ever again. I was used to his approach to parenting by now. After all, it had just been the two of us for fourteen years, if you didn’t count Nora. But even after all this time, I still kept hoping he might warm up.

Instead he gave me a formal nod, then turned and walked away.

“Dad,” I called after him. “Sorry again.”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t even turn back around. He just continued down the hall.

I bit my lip and marched up the curving staircase. Today was not going the way it was supposed to. Instead of being proud, my father was mad at me. And to make matters worse, I’d lost control of a conversation in front of an audience. All because Dax Harris had decided to make a point that no one cared about.