Ash (8 page)

“Get a load of that drop.” Minister Corbin pointed to the end of the track. “There’s never been one that steep. It almost goes straight down.”

My eyes widened. It was hundreds of feet. It looked impossible to maneuver safely.

A young girl’s voice interjected from behind us. “Aldan could still coast that thing with his eyes closed,” she said.

I turned around. An earnest little girl peeked up at me through a cloud of dark ringlets. She looked even smaller sandwiched between her security detail. “I bet you’re right, Aya,” I replied.

The girl gave me a shy smile. “I always pretend I’m Aldan when I play Loop Racer. Have you tried it?”

I shook my head no, and she punched a few buttons on her wrist tracker. A small hologram appeared before us. “It’s kind of like the real race. You have to guide your board to the bottom of the track without getting knocked off by the other players. Only in the game you also have to dodge falling stars and lightning. I’m on level 147. I bet you’d like it.”

“I’m sure I would,” I agreed. “Maybe you can teach me sometime?”

A smile lit up Aya’s face, and she nodded furiously. “Definitely,” she said.

I returned her smile. I was seeing more and more of the little Purple of late, and I had a feeling I would continue to. She was the only person on record to have a classified destiny—it was even above my Violet clearance—and every time we spoke I had to stop myself from begging her to tell me about it. I hated unsolved puzzles. I’d find out once I joined the Seven, of course, but in the meantime I’d just have to trust that she would play an important part of our future.

The first bell rang through the stadium, letting us know the competition would be starting shortly. “I guess I should find my seat,” I said to Aya. “Enjoy the race.” I nodded to Minister Corbin as I turned. And that’s when I saw him.

I felt the bubbles from my drink twist through my stomach as I examined my ex. Link looked even better than when last I’d seen him. His dark blond hair was cropped close to his head. It was shorter than it had been when we’d dated. More befitting of his status as a Destiny Specialist. Although he still wore the faded lavender shirt I never liked. It was even more faded now—to the point that it had a tinge of ash. The handcrafted royal purple shirt I’d had Willa make him to replace it was still wrapped in my closet. Link had never spent money on clothes, or on anything really. Instead he donated his salary to his family. Even then, it was barely enough to counteract the tax Dax’s status cost them. I sighed. He wasn’t even bothered by having a Blank in the family. It was a good reminder of one of the many reasons we’d have never worked out. It didn’t bring me any comfort, though.

Link looked up at that moment and locked eyes with mine. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to turn away, but instead I gave him a courteous nod. There were cameras everywhere, and I refused to have an awkward moment on record.

“Madden,” Bas called, still standing next to his grandfather. “Come sit.” He combed his hair back with his hand and adjusted his purple tie. Not that there was any need. Bas was always immaculately dressed for any occasion.

I made my way to my seat. Bas and his grandfather had moved from pleasant conversation to a heated debate on the latest Blank legislation that was held up in the Delegation—a group of appointed politicians chosen to represent each ring from New City and the other territories of the States. The Seven could eventually move the bill forward, but the Delegation might stall it for at least a few more months, or even years if they didn’t plan carefully.

“Just overrule them,” Bas said, exasperated by what I assumed his grandfather’s explanation of policy was.

Minister Worthington gestured to me. “I’m sure Madden could explain the political intricacies. At least someone here is up on their studies.”

I hated when Minister Worthington put me in the middle of their family squabbles. Bas was always desperately trying to win his grandfather’s approval, and it didn’t help our relationship to be pitted against one another.

“Gentlemen, today is about racing, not policy. Look at that track.”

Minister Worthington gave a hardy laugh. “Right as usual, Madden. But my grandson here could use a lesson on the finer points of government. Do you mind switching places with me so Bas and I may continue our conversation?”

I looked down the front row, careful to keep my anxiety from showing. Minister Worthington’s vacant seat was next to three additional empty ones, and I had a feeling I knew who would be taking them. “Of course not,” I said, and moved to my new seat, where I feigned interest in the screens floating outside the Box. They broadcast snippets from last year’s race.

“Madden Sumner, is that you?”

I did my best to keep the dismay from my face, instead twisting my lips into something I hoped would pass for a smile.

“Mrs. Harris, how delightful to see you,” I responded to Link’s mother. My words sounded flat, and I couldn’t help but notice her yellow gown had two thin stripes of purple crossing one shoulder—a stripe for Aldan and another for Link. A little tacky, I thought, but by rights she had earned them.

“You dear girl,” Link’s mom gushed. “We have absolutely missed you to bits. Isn’t that right,
Bill?” Link’s father leaned around his wife.

“Greetings my dear,” he said. “As the bard says, ‘How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a weary world.’”

I’d never cared for Shakespeare and wasn’t interested in starting now. I nodded politely to Link’s father. “Very nice to see you again, Mr. Harris,” I replied.

“Link?” Mrs. Harris called. “Link, come and tell Madden hello.”

Link turned from the conversation he’d been caught up in. Our eyes met again, and I froze, caught up in his perfect face. No one had features like him. His eyes, his jaw, his… I felt myself growing red and yanked my gaze away from his. Crilas, I thought. Why did I look away first?

“Hi,” he said simply.

I looked back up. “Hello, Link. How pleasant to see you. Are you looking forward to the race today? Lovely weather we’re having, don’t you think?”

It was as though I was on autopilot, mouthing words that didn’t belong to me. Lots of words that I couldn’t seem to stop. Why did he have to look so good?

“I bet you can’t wait to see what Aldan will do on the loops,” I continued. “Because, you know, the loops are really ultra.” My heart was racing as quickly as my words, and I couldn’t stop the last few from tumbling out. “I mean, what an incredible Destiny Day, and what a wonderful chance for all of us to share it. You must be pretty excited.” This wasn’t happening. I’d spent the last year planning what I would say to Link when we next spoke. In all of these imaginary conversations, I’d been satisfied by the regret I knew my words would spark.

Link nodded his head somberly. “Pretty excited,” he agreed, echoing my inane words. He didn’t take his eyes off of me, and my heart was going faster than Aldan on a track. I used to love the way Link looked at me—like I was special, like I was all that mattered, like I was his destiny. But that was before. Now his eyes were filled with disappointment and a trace of betrayal. Our lives were no longer in sync.

The second bell rang, and I sunk down into my seat. Link would sit on the other side of his parents and everything would be fine, I reassured myself. I wouldn’t have to look at him anyway. I wouldn’t have to wonder what if…

“Oh, I have a marvelous idea,” Mrs. Harris said, clapping her hands. “Honey, why don’t you come sit next to Madden?” She grabbed Link’s hand and pulled him toward me. “Take my seat. Quick now, the race is about to begin!”

And with that I was seated next to Link Harris.

“C
ome on, Laira,” I said, dragging her closer to the entrance of the arena, and doing my best not to wrinkle the gray cotton dress I’d borrowed from her for the occasion. Its sleeves hid Aldan’s cuff perfectly, but I hadn’t counted on just how delicate it would be. I reached under the fabric and rubbed the cuff for luck. If we didn’t get through the crowd soon, we might not make it into the arena. Everyone in New City was there, and Ashes weren’t exactly a priority for seating.

Laira had stopped for the moment, transfixed by the images of Madden Sumner projected across the overhead screens. Our country’s future leader was quite literally larger than life as she took a sip from her drink. Unless that drink was dribbling down her perfectly powdered chin, I had no interest in watching. I grabbed Laira’s arm and dragged her after me, elbowing my way through the crowd with the others. It was still taking way too long, so I cut through the refreshment stands, collecting glares from the people working there.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” I repeated like a broken voice cube as we snuck through their workspace.

Klay Kemp, who was manning the water stand, just shrugged. “Water?” he asked, holding out a bottle.

I shook my head no, right as Sol Josephson rounded the corner.

“Aww, come on,” Sol said, flinging himself into our conversation. “You can’t support your own classmate in his tireless pursuit of destiny? Isn’t that the whole crux of our society? Our whole reason for living? What kind of person are you, anyway?”

“He does have a point,” Laira said, totally missing the glint in Sol’s eyes and the smile he was fighting to keep off of his face. “Klay’s destiny is to give water.”

“I always have a point, Laira,” he answered, taking a bottle from Klay. “Aldan Harris, Loop Champion,” Sol read from the label. “Well, Klay, I’m impressed with your professionalism. So much that I’d like to help the cause even further.” He grabbed a second bottle from him and tossed it in his bag.

“Get lost, Sol,” Klay said, as he continued to pass out bottles, never missing a beat. Not that that surprised me. Klay never stopped handing out water. Part of having a destiny that was extracted too late for a time stamp was that he didn’t know when he was supposed to give water or who he was supposed to give it to. As a result, his Destiny Specialist, someone just like Link, had decided he should do it all the time. It got pretty bad for him in school—especially when we were younger. The Purples would say they were thirsty, just to watch him race up and get them something to drink. It didn’t help that he was the only Slate at Spectrum. The higher rings were pretty merciless.

“I’m hurt,” Sol said, slapping his hand over his heart. “But I’ll forgive you. I know destiny is at stake.”

Klay rolled his eyes. He knew Sol didn’t mean anything by the ribbing, but it was clear he had enough for one day.

“Let’s go,” I said.

“Are you asking me to join you for the race? Like, a date? How forward of you, Dax.” Sol matched my stride as we approached the entrance and gave me an appreciative look. “You didn’t need to dress up for me, but I have to say I like it. So shall we make it official? Want to hold my hand?”

“What? No!” I said, smacking his outreached hand from mine.

“Oh Dax, didn’t your dad tell you about the lady and protesting too much.”

If Sol wasn’t an equal opportunity flirt I might have read something into his words, but it was just his way, so I rolled my eyes. “You can’t trust Hamlet, Sol. I hear he was nuts.” But I admit I was secretly happy he noticed my dress. Hopefully that meant Theron would too when I saw him at the after party.

“Let’s go in,
Laira,
” I said and pulled out my ticket.

“You’ll be back,” Sol called after us. “You’ll see. You won’t be able to resist me.”

“Keep dreaming,” I said, handing my ticket to Eather Vanley, a sophomore Green from school, who was collecting them.

“Sorry,” she said, giving it back. “The Ash area is full.”

“But I have a ticket. I have to get inside.”