Ash (28 page)

My whole body felt warm at his touch.

“Theron…” I was so focused on him that I actually jumped when Laira plunked down on the bench to my other side.

“Dax!” she said, her voice just a little bit plaintive. “Finally. I’ve been calling and pinging you for days.” She pulled me into a hug and gave me a sympathetic squeeze. “I’m really, really sorry about your brothers. I’ve been so worried about you.” She leaned forward to look past me at Theron. “Hi Theron. It’s so nice of you to make sure Dax is okay. I mean, seriously, really nice.” She gave a self-conscious laugh. “Right, Dax?”

“Right,” I answered. Could she not see we were in the middle of something?

“What are you guys talking about?” she pressed on.
“
Is it about…
Aldan?”
She glanced around nervously, as though the act of saying my brother’s name could somehow get us in trouble.

“No,” I said. I let the single word sit there, and the silence stretched out around us. I hoped by not saying anything more she’d leave us alone, but she didn’t take the hint. She just looked back and forth between us until Theron finally stood.

“I should go. Dax, think about what I said, okay?” He held my gaze until I nodded, then he headed back toward the school.

When he was out of hearing range, Laira turned to me, her eyes about to pop out of their sockets. “Theron. And you. Together?”

I gave her a look, and she shrugged, suddenly sheepish. “Right, that’s probably the last thing you’re thinking about right now. Sorry.” Her brow crinkled up in worry as she continued. “Seriously, are you doing okay? Did you get my pings? I thought about just coming over, but I didn’t want to bother your family.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sorry I didn’t get back to you. I just wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone.”

She looked down at the bench, biting her bottom lip. “It’s okay. I understand. It’ll get easier. I know how hard it must be, but just don’t listen to what anyone has to say. It’s not your fault your brother is,” she lowered her voice as if she didn’t even want to say the words, “
a destiny breaker
. You couldn’t have known.”

That’s why she thought I was upset? “Laira, I don’t care what people are saying about me or what Aldan did; what I care about is my brother.” I tried to remind myself that Laira’s heart was in the right place. To her a broken destiny was worse than death.

“Oh…” she stammered. “Of course.”

I could tell she was searching for the right words. “The whole thing is just so horrible,” she said. “But you know, it’s still possible there may be a purple lining. Like maybe you and Theron getting closer. What if this triggered something no one ever saw coming? Destiny works in mysterious ways.”

She saw the stricken look on my face and stopped short.

“That didn’t come out right,” she stumbled, looking unsure of what to say next.

Part of me wanted to scream and shake her. The other part knew she was just saying what she had been taught to believe. What I had been taught as well. Only the lessons no longer fit me the way they used to.

“It’s fine, Laira,” I said. She wouldn’t understand. She couldn’t. She had blind acceptance of everything the Ministry said. But I knew better. And if I had my way, one day, she—and the rest of the world—would too.

T
he conversation with Theron played over and over in my head.

“I need a favor, Madden. Well, actually, it’s not for me. It’s for Dax Harris.”

My voice must have shot up an octave. “Dax Harris? What does she want?”

“She needs your help,” he said.

“Why? What did she say?” My heart hammered in my chest. This had to be it. Dax knew—somehow she’d figured out the truth.

“She wants to see Link. I thought maybe you could help her.”

“Is that all you talked about?” I asked.

Theron raised an eyebrow at me, and I quickly looked away. Clearly, he didn’t know my secret, but that didn’t mean Dax wasn’t on to me. Maybe she was just using Theron to get to me, manipulating him into setting up a meeting where she could confront me before cracking the truth wide open.

“I thought you could get her into the cells,” he said, interrupting my spiraling thoughts. “They won’t let her in because of her status. She may be able to get through to him.”

That took me for surprise, and I mulled it over. I wanted to say no. It wouldn’t look good for me to be associated with a Blank. Or the Harris’s. But I couldn’t. I owed it to Dax, and I still—if I was honest with myself—cared for Link. A lot. I wouldn’t put appearance before his life.

“That’s really all she wants to talk about?” I asked, just to make sure.

He gave me a strange look. “Of course that’s all she wants to talk about.” A hint of impatience threaded his voice. “Would you please just help her? For me? Her family has been through a lot lately.”

That did it. Theron’s tone snapped me back to my senses. If Dax thought she could help Link, I would make it happen. “Of course,” I said. “Tell her to meet me after school.”

Only, as the minutes ticked down to the end of the day, my nerves started to get the better of me. A tiny voice kept reminding me that Dax and Sol were both Ashes, and thus practically bound together by ring loyalty. What if, despite his promises, Sol said something about the destiny switch? Yes, he’d sworn on his family. And more than just that, he seemed to genuinely care about what was happening to me. But I had to prepare for the worst. There was a chance Dax knew everything. But if she did, it was better to find out now. That way I could manage the story as it broke, and maybe even salvage the situation. Spin it in my direction, somehow. And if she didn’t know, then I had a reprieve for a little longer.

“Uhhh, hello, Madden.” Portia waved her hand in front of my face.

“What?” I asked, bringing my thoughts back to my surroundings. Everyone was getting up. Trig class was over. I hadn’t even really remembered it starting.

“You’re usually the first one up when the bell rings, now you’re acting like you’re coming down from Xalan,” she said.

“I would never take Xalan,” I snapped back at her. “You know better than that.” The last thing I needed was for people to think I had a drug problem. They’d start looking for any reason to get me out of the ministry—and they’d find one.

“I…” Portia bit at one of her fuchsia painted nails. “I didn’t mean—”

“Then what did you mean?” I stood up and glared at her.

“Nothing, I was just making a joke.”

“You might want to work on that.” I shoved my plexi into my bag. “If you think defaming one of your future leaders is funny, you and I may have some problems moving forward.”

“There’s no problem. I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

Lavendar approached us slowly. “Hey,” she said, her head bowed and voice soft. “Please don’t be mad at her. Or me. We’re just worried about you. You haven’t been yourself the last couple of days. You didn’t even say anything about Portia’s hair.”

I looked over at Portia. A streak of color that matched her nails ran down the right side. It was such a lower ring thing to do. I was about to tell her so too, when I caught myself. It wasn’t Portia and Lavendar I was mad at—it was me.

How could I keep hiding my true destiny? I knew the history. I knew the possible repercussions. John Crilas didn’t shut a door and billions of people died. Who knew what would happen if the proper minister wasn’t appointed. I was risking lives because I didn’t want to give up my standing. Because I was afraid of what would happen to me? That wasn’t good enough. What was I thinking?

“I’m sorry,” I told them. Part of me wanted to just tell them everything, to get the truth out in the open. But the other part—the part that wanted to fight for my survival—wouldn’t let me. “I shouldn’t have snapped. It’s just this whole Link thing.”

“We understand,” Lavendar said, putting her hand on my arm. “You think you know someone and then they go and do something like disavow their destiny. But it’s not your fault you went out with him. You couldn’t have known. No one blames you.”

“Yeah,” Portia said, wrapping a strand of her dyed hair around her finger. “Everyone knows you’d never support a destiny denier.”

Little did they know. “Thanks,” I told them. “You guys go ahead. I just need to clear my head. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Lavendar and Portia each gave me a quick squeeze before packing up their things and leaving. I watched them go. If Dax knew my secret that would be the last time my friends would be my friends.

The class continued to thin out and after a few minutes it was just Dax and me. It was the moment of truth. I closed the door to the classroom and turned to face her.

She didn’t speak. She just looked right at me. This was it. She knew. Was she waiting for me to say it? Would she just blurt it out? Would she make me suffer?

“Theron said you might be able to get me in to see Link,” she finally said.

I let out a breath. Dax really didn’t know. This truly was just about Link.

“I can convince him to change his mind. I know I can,” she continued. “Will you help me?”

Normally when a person from the lower rungs—even some from my zone—asked me for something they looked down. But not Dax. She kept her head level, her eyes focused on mine. It was a strong move. A move of a leader. It was me who looked away. She shouldn’t be asking me for anything. She was the true Purple.

“You really think he’ll listen to you?” I asked.

“He might. I want a chance to try,” she replied. But it wasn’t delivered in her usual tone of anger and pride. She just sounded thoughtful as she continued. “He’s my brother, Madden. I love him. Maybe he needs to hear from me, from an Ash. That’s the group he’s fighting for most. If I could get him to see there are other ways to influence the system, that I’d rather live in the Ash zone than lose a brother, it might help him see things in a new way.”

I let her words sink in. I knew I should be trying to keep my life as separate from Dax as I could, but if there was a chance she could get through to Link, I had to say yes. “Fine,” I said. “Head over first and I’ll meet you there.” Just because I was willing to help didn’t mean I wanted people to see us walking there together.

She looked like she had something else to say, but instead nodded and gave me a quick thanks.

She left the classroom, closing the door behind her, and I sunk into one of the chairs. Why was this happening to me? Why couldn’t I go back to not knowing the truth? Or maybe it was just a test! Maybe the ministers were trying to see how I would handle this situation, to see how honorable I was. If that was the case, I was flunking. For a moment I had a glimmer of hope, like an Ash mother going to the wishing tree praying for a Purple baby. But just like the mother’s odds, the chances of it being some elaborate exam were next to none. The ministers weren’t testing me. They’d know there was no way I could have uncovered the hack on my own, and no Purple test would require the aide of an Ash. This was real. Which meant I knew what I was supposed to do—what I needed to do. I needed to tell the truth. Yet… that didn’t feel right either. I’d trained my whole life to be a minister. I knew I could do it. I was smart, I was a gifted speaker, I was resourceful. I wasn’t a Blank. I just didn’t fit the profile. But it didn’t matter. Destiny was destiny. It wasn’t fair to deny Dax hers. There was too much at stake. Still, could there really be any harm in waiting a little longer? Dax’s time stamp wasn’t until December.

The door to the class opened, and I sat up straight. I still had an image to maintain. At least for now. I relaxed when I saw Sol. I should never have doubted he’d keep my secret.

“For such a public figure,” Sol said, walking toward me, “you may want to up your tracker security. It was pretty easy to find you.”

“Not everyone’s a genius,” I said, trying to sound upbeat. It sounded strangled instead.

Sol saw right threw my charade. He sat down next to me, worry plain in his face. “What happened?”

“Oh, you mean other than my whole world moments away from shattering in front of me?”

“Yeah, other than that,” he said, one side of his mouth rising into a smile.

“I just agreed to do Dax Harris a favor. Now maybe she’ll owe me one, and when the truth comes out, she won’t have me executed.”