Ash (5 page)

I walked down the long hallway leading to my wing. I stopped to adjust one of the series of Monet paintings hanging from the wall. They were some of the only original artworks to survive the Event. I stared into the water lilies and gave myself a chance to compose myself. I wasn’t successful. Hot, salty tears still pricked at my eyes as I entered my bedroom.

“There you are, Madden,” Nora said. “Let’s get you dressed. We don’t have much time.”

I tossed my schoolbag onto the floor as Nora bustled around the room. The book that Laira had asked me to sign peeked out from one corner. It was a symbol of everything that had gone wrong today and I took a deep breath, trying not to lose control.

Nora made her way to me and began tugging at the laces that tied the bodice of my day dress. “Here we go. Free at last. Now, let’s—” She grabbed my face in her hands. “Honey, what happened? Why are you crying?”

“I’m not,” I protested, plastering on a smile. Ministers of the Seven did not cry and definitely not in public. “Just something in my eye,” I said, composing myself.

I hoped Nora would leave it at that, but she knew me too well. She sat down on the edge of my bed and patted the seat beside her. “Come tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s nothing. Honest.” I walked over to my closet instead. A dark purple silk gown hung outside my closet door. “Wow. Willa outdid herself this time.” My stylist definitely knew how to provide the perfect outfit for any occasion. My championship dress was no exception. The top was fitted and flared down into a fringed organza A-line skirt that reached the floor. Although I could have added accessories in black or white, I always felt for a future minister a full purple ensemble was the way to go. Aside from my signature zone bracelets, of course. Today’s outfit would be game-stopping. There were going to be just as many eyes on me as on Aldan Harris. “Help me put it on.”

Nora got up and lifted the dress over my head. “Don’t try changing the subject. You can’t fool me, Maddy. The others, yes. But I know better.”

I smiled at that. Nora was the only one who called me anything but Madden. Well her and Link. But he hardly counted any more. Nora only used the nickname when I was upset. She always knew if something was bothering me, even if no one else could tell. After all, she’d practically raised me. My family moved from the Crimson to Purple zone, and straight into Perse Manor, when I was born. My mom and dad were both Crimson, but my birth, my destiny, made the zoning council reevaluate. My parents were quickly bumped up to Purples, both in status and living situation, and Nora kind of came with the house.

Her destiny was to serve those higher than her, and in the government’s book that meant serving Purples. But while she won’t say it to anyone, I know that’s not how she sees it. Nora believes in a higher power that goes beyond science, but I don’t say anything. I wouldn’t want to get her in trouble.

“So are you going to tell me what happened?” she asked, smoothing out the bottom of my dress. “You know you can always talk to me.”

“It’s just my dad being my dad. It’s like he doesn’t see me anymore. All he sees is my destiny.” I wanted to say more, but I felt myself getting choked up. “Never mind.”

Nora sat me down into a rocking chair in the corner of my room and kneeled before me. “Now you listen to me. Your father loves you very much. Do you understand me?” I twisted my colored zone bracelets, and Nora put her hands over mine. “He just has a hard time showing it now.” My eyes darted to the cube on my dresser and Nora followed my gaze. Pictures of my mother filled each side, changing shots every ten seconds. Nora went and picked it up. “You look just like her, you know. Same chestnut hair. Same wide smile. It makes it harder for him.” A younger Mila Sumner—everyone always said that, but I didn’t see it. We looked similar, I supposed, but my mother had this energy, this fire that you could see even through a photo. I had nothing like that. Maybe she could have taught me had she lived longer, but I was only three when she died. My father wouldn’t talk about her or any of her family now. Sometimes it felt like Nora was all I had. I stood up and gave her an impulsive hug.

“Thanks, Nora,” I said.

“Of course, sweetheart. Now it’s time to cheer up. You hear me?” she said grabbing on to my chin. “You have a big function to go to, and more than one boy to impress, am I right?”

“Just Bas,” I told her.

“Mmhmm,” she said and gave me a wink. “But let’s make Link jealous all the same.” I couldn’t help but smile. I hadn’t told anyone that I was nervous, and admittedly a tiny bit excited, about seeing Link again tonight. But Nora sensed it.

She whisked me over to my vanity and got to work, and I watched the transformation with my usual amazement. “You get prettier every day,” Nora said when she completed her handiwork. “I can’t believe you’re almost seventeen. You look so grown up.” Nora had done my makeup to perfection. The liner made my brown eyes look sultry and mysterious, without looking sooty. And that was just the start. My cheekbones appeared razor sharp, my lips the perfect bow shape, and my skin clear and dewy. My hair tumbled in waves, softly framing Nora’s work. I thought about giving her another hug, but it was getting close to leaving time and my father would walk in any minute. He didn’t approve of friendships with lower rings. While Nora wasn’t an Ash or even a Slate or Brown, she was a Yellow—and the help. He’d just yell at her again for treating me like a child instead of an up-and-coming leader. Plus, it was my fault we took so long getting ready. Portia and Lavendar wouldn’t stop pinging me, and I had to coach Lavendar through a wardrobe crisis. After all, it wouldn’t have been very minister-like to ignore a friend in need. Portia’s pings, however, I let sit unanswered. She’d laughed at Dax Harris’s prank, which I wasn’t going to forget any time soon. My lack of response said more than any message.

“One last finishing touch,” Nora said, reaching into my closet. “You said you wanted something a little different for your hair tonight, so I had Willa make something special.” She took out a hatbox and opened it up, revealing a wreath made of fresh lilies, my mother’s favorite flower.

“Nora, it’s ultra. Thank you!” She carefully placed the halo on my head and the sugar-sweet smell of the flowers washed over me. I truly felt special.

“Your Aunt Maeve loved flower wreaths. When she moved into the house with your parents, she had Willa design her one every day, even if she wasn’t going anywhere fancy. Maeve was—”

“What is that?” my father said. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed in front of him, and glowered at Nora.

“Oh hello, Mr. Sumner,” Nora said in surprise. “We’re just finishing with Madden’s hair. Doesn’t she look beautiful?”

He shook his head, ignoring the question. “You know better than to bring
that
woman’s name up in my home
.
I will not have my daughter made up to look like her. You and I will speak about this later, Nora.”

“Oh, sir, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it that way. We just wanted to try something new tonight for the occasion.”

My dad just glared. “Take it off and have her downstairs in five minutes. The car is waiting, and she cannot be late.”

Nora bobbed her head. “Yes, sir.”

My father left, slamming my door shut behind him.

“I’m sorry, Maddy,” Nora said, rushing to my side and removing the wreath. “I should have known better.”

“It’s not your fault.” I watched Nora gently place the wreath back in its box with a twinge of sadness. “He was overreacting. If it wasn’t about Aunt Maeve, it would have been about something else, I’m sure.”

Although Maeve really was a touchy subject. The last time I’d seen my mom’s sister was when I was five. My father refused to even speak her name, let alone tell me anything about her. There’d been rumors about her being crazy and fleeing New City to live in the woods. That was before it had become illegal to go off grid. No one had ever told me the real story.

“Was Maeve really that bad?” I asked Nora.

Nora glanced at the door, then lowered her voice. “At the end, I suppose. But once upon a time, she was very wise, very brave, like your mother. Like you.” She patted me on the back. “You should get going. You don’t want to keep your father waiting.”

I certainly didn’t feel very brave, but it helped that Nora believed in me. It reminded me that, if nothing else, I could fake it better than anyone.

I
reached the tree at the end of my street and checked my wrist tracker. Thirty-eight minutes-fifteen seconds. A personal best, and I wasn’t even out of breath. By the end of the year, I was sure to shave my run home down to an even thirty. The thought gave me an extra burst of energy, and I almost sprinted to my door, but a sea of red dresses blocked my path. As luck would have it, a gaggle of Crimson girls, no more than ten years old, were gathered on the pavement near my home.

My family lived in one half of a two-story aluminum duplex, identical to all of the others on the block. This time of day, the sunlight hitting the solar panels made the area’s rooftops sparkle. The girls didn’t seem to know what to do with all of the uniformity. Crimson neighborhoods weren’t pre-fab like mine. They were giggling to themselves as I made my way around them.

“I’m pretty sure this is where he lives,” the tall one with bushy eyebrows squealed. “I was able to track him this far, but he’s not in my ping circle, so I don’t know which house is his.”

While it wasn’t typical to see this many Crimsons in my area, it wasn’t exactly out of the norm. Aldan’s fans—especially the girls—had a tendency to hunt him down, even if it meant coming to the Yellow ring.

“You can ask her,” the tiny one said when she spotted me watching them from the doorway. She sucked the end of her cherry red braid as she waited for her friend to answer.

For a second I actually thought I’d help them. Give them the thrill of their life and call my brother down to say hello. That was until I saw their expressions.

“Are you nuts?” Bushy eyebrows asked. She lowered her voice in disgust. “She’s an Ash.”

“But I really want to see Aldan,” the little one whined.

“Fine,” Bushy eyebrows relented. “Everyone put out a fist.” They did as she instructed and she began that old childhood rhyme I detested. “
Purple, Crimson, Green, Yellow, Brown, Slate, Ash, touch one from the outer rings and you’ll get a rash. You are out
. Ha! Rose, you’re it, go ask her.”

A skinny Crimson with tight blonde curls and a red pleated dress to match her ring affiliation took a few steps toward me. “Ash,” she said, giving me a condescending look, “where does Aldan Harris live?”

“A few buildings that way,” I replied, pointing down the street, toward the garbage dumpster at the end of the block. It would smell particularly ripe with the warm weather we’d been having. “Can’t miss it – it’s the one with the metal door.”

I closed our own metal door behind me just as Rose exclaimed, “But, wait, they’re all metal.”

Welcome to the Yellow Ring,
I thought. We were probably the only mixed-ring household in the entire area. All of my family was Yellow, except for my brothers, Link and Aldan, who were both Purples. After they’d been born my family had been bumped up two rings, to Crimson. It hadn’t lasted long though. Once I came along, we were rezoned back to Yellow, so that’s where we lived. I threw my bag down and let out a grunt thinking about the girls.
Touch one from the outer rings and you’ll get a rash.
So much for a color tolerant society.

I took a deep breath. I understood the reason for the rings. Stories from the Event had been hammered into my head for as long as I could remember. About forty years ago, one person’s failed destiny wiped out most of the world. Billions died. The stories and footage were terrifying. I knew the color system helped monitor the entire destiny matrix to keep us safe, but hearing the upper rings make fun of my standing still made me want to hit something.