Ash (39 page)

So many people were asking me for details about the night Link escaped. They all wanted to hear what happened. Only I couldn’t tell them. Not the truth anyway.

The official word from the ministry was that the entire breakout and my shooting was Link’s fault. That was what they wanted me to say. I tried to reason with Minister Worthington, but I’d gotten a curt response. “The public can’t handle the truth, Madden. Link Harris is responsible, and that is all anyone needs to know.” My father, whose position in the ministry made him privy to what the government actually knew about the escape, told me not to argue, but I couldn’t believe they were going to spread a lie. If the breakout events weren’t true and the Revenants were real, what else was the ministry hiding? When I tried to discuss it with my father he said I was being ridiculous, that everything was being done in the interest of public safety, and I’d understand when I was a minister. I wasn’t so sure. But regardless, rather than towing the line, my public statement was “a complete lack of memory due to shock and trauma” and a “thanks to the Ash who stepped in to help.” I wasn’t going to further implicate Link for something he didn’t do, and if I could help Sol’s standing in the process, even better.

The sound of the crowd went quiet. I turned to see what—or rather whom— everyone was looking at. It was Dax.

I think it was the first time I ever really noticed her. I mean, truly took her in as a person. Her clothing was too big—she wore an oversized long sleeve shirt. The arms were rolled up and pinned to stay that way. The neck was beginning to fray. Her pants had been hemmed a little too short, and there was a hole in one knee. Her sneakers were streaked with dirt. Everything about her was colorless and threadbare, and yet is still somehow worked. Dax was pretty—very pretty—despite the ragged ensemble. She’d be downright beautiful in a purple gown. My future was standing in front of me, as clear as looking into a mirror.

“Seriously?” Portia said, interrupting my thoughts. “I can’t believe they still let her go to school here. Hey,” she yelled. She waved a hand toward Dax. “Hey you,” she shouted again. “At least have the courtesy to go inside or something. No one wants you here.”

“It’s not her fault,” I said.

“Madden, her brother shot you,” Lavendar said in a way-too-loud whisper. “She’s always hated you, I’m sure that played a part. She’s a
Blank
after all. You know they’re sneaky and dangerous.”

Dax nodded in agreement, her eyes glittering. Her voice carried across the courtyard like a bullet. “Very sneaky, right Madden?”

This was not how I wanted my first interaction with Dax to go. If they kept egging her on, she might spit out the truth right there in the courtyard.

“Enough,” I called out. “I don’t need this today. Can someone please lighten the mood?”

“Sure,” Portia said, coiling her finger around one of her ringlets. “In fact, since we have a total mutant in our midst, maybe someone should just remove it.”

I saw Theron glance from Dax to Portia, weighing the situation. “On it,” he said. Only he didn’t go over to Dax. He lifted Portia, and looked at the crowd, “Where should I put her?”

Everyone started talking at once. The crowd was in disbelief. Portia was screaming and kicking her legs in outrage. And then there was Dax.

She was cracking up like it was the funniest thing she’d ever seen. When our eyes met again she just nodded, a smile plastered over her face. She didn’t have to say anything. The message came through loud and clear. Theron’s destiny was to make her laugh, not me.

The bell rang then and the student body dispersed, saving me from listening to more of Portia’s hysterics. Temporarily anyway. It was all she talked about between classes until Lavendar finally told her to stop making the day about her. I even got Portia to forgive Theron, which she said she only did because I almost died. True friendship at its finest.

At the end of the day, I told everyone I was going to Ms. Almodovar’s class to catch up on some missed assignments. She was my favorite teacher, and I had touched base with her when I was home. I told her I needed a place away from my family, friends, and work where I could just concentrate. She said I could use the room undisturbed all week. When I got there, Dax was already waiting.

I couldn’t quite read the expression on her face. We stood there facing one another, each waiting for the other to begin.

I looked back at the door to make sure it was shut and that the shade on the window was closed. “Link?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“He’s fine,” she answered.

I looked down. I hadn’t realized how much his escape had been weighing on me. “Good,” I said. I wanted to say more, but it wasn’t the time or the place. Link was gone from my world and needed to stay away. It was the only way he’d be safe.

“He was worried about you. I guess we both were.”

“They had me walking the next day. Wonders of modern science and all that.” I knew my health wasn’t the topic Dax was interested in, and for that matter, I wasn’t either. “You said you wanted to talk, so talk.”

She looked at me incredulously. “I want to know the truth. What you said—am I really the future minister?”

She knew full well it was the truth. You don’t go stealing codes for a lie. This had to be a trap.

“Madden?” she prompted.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked.

“What?”

“Are you recording our conversation?”

“No,” she said, “Would I admit to knowing my brother’s whereabouts if I was?”

She probably wouldn’t, but you could do amazing things with editing. Although, I guess I could claim the whole thing was a fake. “Fine,” I replied. “It’s the truth. But you know that. I got your friends’ blackmail request while I was in the hospital. I did their dirty work.”

“What?”

“Please,” I said. “Don’t act innocent. I told you something that could save you, and you used it to hurt me.”

“Madden, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right.”

“No,” she said, her voice rising. “I’m not letting you turn this around on me. You’re the one who knew our destinies were swapped and didn’t say anything until you thought you were going to die. You’re the one who always wants to tell everyone how great the system is, and yet you were going to break it.”

“I wasn’t going to break it,” I yelled back, before remembering to lower my voice. “I was going to tell you. I just needed time to think.”

I felt my mouth go dry. I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation.

“Go on,” she said.

“I found a discrepancy in my birth records a few weeks ago when I was doing some family research. I hired Sol to dig into it. You and I were born on the same day.”

She nodded. “I know. Your yearly birthday gala is all anyone can ever talk about that day.”

That was going to change soon enough. I forced myself to keep talking. “Sol looked through my birth records, and he realized the switch happened with someone who was born on the same day. In the same hospital. That was you.”

“Impossible.”

“It should have been,” I said.

“How could someone switch a Blank destiny with a minister’s destiny? They triple check every birth. Link told me sometimes they even do a fourth check for good measure. There’s no way to mix up something like that.”

“Someone did,” I said, trying to keep the bitterness from my tone. “Sol checked and rechecked, Dax. It’s the truth. You’re the future minister, not me.”

Dax narrowed her eyes, still trying to process it. “So you’re telling me that my entire life has been monitored, controlled, and preordained for a limited Ash existence. And it was all just, what? Some big misunderstanding?”

“Yes,” I said. “But this can still be fixed. There was a time stamp. The future minister isn’t scheduled for induction until December eleventh of this year. That’s why I didn’t say anything yet, I needed time to plan, to come up with something. I still do.”

“You mean so you don’t get stuck like me? At the bottom rung.”

I didn’t answer. We both knew it was true.

Dax paced back and forth, her hands covering her mouth. I was scared to ask the question, but I needed to know. “What are you going to do?”

She stopped pacing, and looked right at me. “I have no idea.”

I
walked out of the building in a daze. It was true. All of it. I was actually the future minister. Madden’s secret could change everything. Part of me wanted to climb onto central fountain and scream the news for all of my classmates to hear. I could just imagine the reactions. Shock. Awe. Regret for the way they treated me over the years. Or more likely, they’d think I was trying to pull something. I needed hard proof before I opened my mouth. If word got back to the PAE that some Ash was claiming she was a member of the Seven, I didn’t want to think about what would happen. My family was in enough trouble as it was. Still, the idea of everyone knowing was freeing, and I let myself slip back into the daydream as I walked across lawn in front of Spectrum. It took me a minute before I realized someone was yelling at me.

“Go back to your ring!”

“Leave her alone,” another voice replied.

I looked up. Three of the school’s top Purples stood there, Theron included.

“What? It’s not like we have to pretend anymore,” Devon Latcher, a lanky senior who used to trail my brother around, said. “Aldan’s gone.”

“Even if he wasn’t,” Wen Steed butted in, “it’s not like it would matter what he’d have to say now.”

“Aldan was our friend,” Theron said, frustration thick in his voice.

“Sure,” Devon replied. “Before we knew what a Crilas-loving destiny breaker he was.”

I couldn’t listen anymore. I picked up my pace as I made my way across the courtyard. Devon and Wen had been two of Aldan’s best friends, but since the race I’d watched them turn into animals. Everywhere I went I heard ugly variations of what they were saying—about Aldan and Link, or my family—more often than not, about me. If they knew the truth, they’d be groveling right now. Not that it would change my opinion about them. I didn’t care how influential their families were, when I was minister I’d remember how they acted since Aldan was killed.

“Dax, wait,” Theron called after me.

“You are not going after that thing,” Wen told him.

“Let go of me,” Theron said.

I turned back. Wen’s hand was grasped around Theron’s arm and they both looked ready to fight.

“I said ‘let go,’” Theron repeated.

“Not if you’re chasing an Ash. First it was that thing with Portia this morning, and now this? What’s with you?”

Theron pushed him away, and Wen stumbled back. His nostrils flared, and he lunged at Theron. I didn’t know what to do.

“You still think Aldan’s so great?” Wen shouted, grabbing onto Theron’s shirt, right near the throat. “Maybe I should call the PAE. Let them know we have a sympathizer among us.” He tightened his grip. “Not so funny now, are you?”

“Okay,” Devon said, coming between the two. “You made your point, Wen. Let him go.”

He released Theron, but the two stood there staring at each other. For a second I thought they were going to go at it again, but Theron turned around and walked in my direction.

“Dax,” he said, as he approached. His breathing was hard, his entire posture rigid. I could almost see the fury wafting off of him. Talking to me now in front of Devon and Wen was just going to make it worse. For both of us.

“Meet me behind the building,” I whispered and headed away from him.

I’d been so excited about Theron coming to see me last night that I hadn’t thought about the full implications of our… friendship? Relationship? Whatever this thing was growing between us. Our future would be impossible if our rings remained the same. It wouldn’t just be the gossip and name calling we’d have to put up with, but actual threats. No one would stand to see a Purple and Ash together.

The thought lurked as I neared the back of the building. I looked around before approaching Theron. I didn’t see anyone—not his friends or any PAE detail. I took a breath before I spoke. “Hey,” I said, surprised at how nervous I felt. Other than a quick wink he gave me this morning, Theron and I hadn’t spoken since he climbed out my window.