PERSONAL RECORD: DESIGNATION UNAVAILABLE
PUBLIC HALL OF RECORDS, ALBANY CITY, NEW TRITON
478.3.1.07
Pausing just inside the doors leading from the Hall of Records, I unfastened the Consortium-grey jacket. I pulled it off, folded it, and set it on the polished floor. Without it, cool air nipped at me through the thin, green fabric of my tunic, and my heart sang as I left Consortium grey behind. I edged my way down the steps cautiously.
“Sweetheart?”
There, at the base of the steps, they waited. My Nathaniel, his perfect brows drawn together. Jordan, her golden-brown eyes locked on me. Kyleigh, my cane clutched to her chest and her lower lip caught between her teeth. James at her side, solid and still as rock. Alec and Zhen and Eric—all potential energy coiled like springs.
I rolled back the green fabric and raised my right arm, displaying both the bandage and the silver-and-black identification bracelet. My bracelet.
With an incoherent shout, Nate raced up the broad steps, and I was in his arms.
I was home.
When he set me down, I stepped back and slid my hands into his, attempting to memorize him all over again, so I would have the image stored safely in my heart.
His voice lowered. “What is it?”
What I needed to say went too deep for a smile, deeper than my bones, deeper than a planet’s core. I tightened my fingers around his. “Nathaniel, my heart, I love you.”
Green eyes never left mine. He released my hand, reached into his jacket, and pulled out a polished, two-toned band of gold, the colors woven together in delicate Celtic knots. He slipped the ring onto the third finger of my left hand, where it hung loosely.
Faint pink tinged his cheeks. “It’s too big. I—I’ll take it back. Resize it.”
“No.” With a degree of reverence, I tried it on every other finger before sliding it onto my right thumb where it fit as if it had been made to those specific measurements. Captivated by the ring’s beauty, I held up my hand. “Do not change it,” I said. “It is perfect.”
He cupped my face, and his thumb slid over my cheek, then grazed my lower lip. I closed my eyes.
Alec whooped, and Zhen laughed. What the rest of them did, I could not say, for when Nate’s lips met mine and his fingers twisted through my curls, I was lost.
He eased back and rested his forehead against my own, but in that moment of quiet, the whir of a drone sounded. The world snapped back around me.
Across the manicured lawn, a young Recorder, near Kyleigh’s age, stood at rest, her drone at her shoulder. Eyes like turquoise blinked but did not leave me and Nate. He drew me closer.
“We’re moving on,” Jordan said.
The Recorder did not look away. “Be at peace, Guardian.”
Eric moved forward. “She’s a citizen now.”
Although I kept Nate’s hand in mine, I edged around Zhen. “It is well.” I met the Recorder’s eyes. “You are my sister. No matter who or where I am.”
“No.” The quiet word fell like a feather. Her drone’s tendril twitched, and she stiffened.
My heart splintered.
After a shuddering breath, the Recorder moistened her lips. “Care well for the little ones, Guardian.”
I waited, as I had been taught.
Her turquoise eyes lifted to mine. “Be happy.”
She rotated slowly, and her boots tapped on the concrete path as she passed us and climbed the steps.
Zhen’s clear voice rang out. “Recorder!”
The young woman and her drone turned.
Zhen held up a palm. “Be at peace.”
A faint smile crossed the Recorder’s pale face, then she disappeared into the colonnade leading into the Hall of Records.
Be at peace.
A strand of sadness wound through me. Drones, reprimands, Recorders, and the Hall of Reclamation would continue without a hint of freedom. How could I go forward when I left those like her behind?
Nate’s fingers threaded through mine, and he gave my hand a squeeze. When I looked up, he asked, “We still have that appointment, right?”
“Yes.”
Kyleigh handed me my cane, but in truth, I leaned on Nate. With each step, I focused on the newness of the familiar world, a world in which I was no longer Consortium. A hint of pine tickled my nose. Jordan’s beads whispered, and footsteps tapped in uncoordinated rhythms. Immediately overhead, mimosa leaves rustled in the gentle breeze from the ceiling-mounted fans.
Further up, beyond that domed ceiling, in the cold openness of space, the stars thrummed. They burned and pulsed, throwing particles, heat, and light into the void, whether or not my limited senses could detect them.
Stardust? Or creation?
Unquantifiable and indefinable. And yet as close as my breath.
Even in those holding cells and rooms, had I truly been alone? Perhaps, none of us were, not even the young Recorder with turquoise eyes. A shiver ran down my arms, and Nate gave my hand a quick squeeze. With the Hall of Records behind me, the promise of helping the little ones before me, the people I was finally free to love around me, and Nate beside me, unquenchable hope bubbled.
The quick patter of Kyleigh’s shoes passed on my left. She darted in front of us all, stopped, and held up a hand. “Wait just a minute. This is all very nice and everything, but the thing is, you never said.”
“There are many things I have not said.” Instead of confusing me, her apparent belief in telepathy made me smile. “What is it I have neglected?”
“Your name. Stars above,” Kyleigh exclaimed. “You haven’t told us your name.”
“Exactly.” Jordan arced one delicate brow. “I understand that you were trying to keep us safe, but you’ve done that.”
Light twinkled on James’s earrings. “Indeed.”
“Right,” Zhen said. “Before we head over to get you two a permanent contract, you need to let us know what name you chose. Given name, middle name, last name.” Zhen tapped out each on her fingers. “Now. You’ve been playing this close long enough.”
“Three?” I turned my ring round and round on my thumb. “I cannot give you that.”
Nate nudged my shoulder. I glanced up at him. One perfect eyebrow rose, and my smile crept back.
“What kind of rubbish answer—”
“Babe,” Alec protested.
Zhen shot a glare at him, then turned that glare on me. “Of course you can.”
“I chose only two.” For a second, insecurity trickled through me. Lars had been correct. Selecting a name was a serious endeavor. If I had chosen poorly . . . But no, it was a good name, a talisman, a light against darkness. It was my name. “Arianna Maxwell.”
“Arianna.” A broad smile broke over Alec’s face. “Excellent choice.”
Nate’s dimple peeked at me while Eric cheered and Kyleigh’s eyes widened.
Zhen rested her cheek on Alec’s shoulder. “It might not be Chrysanthemum,” she said with a deepening smile, “but I approve.”
“It’s lovely.” Jordan’s eyes shone. “Does Max know?”
I leaned into Nate. “I asked his permission last night. If I could have had a father, I would have wanted him to be like Max. And . . .” I hesitated, for I suspected they would not like what I would say. “If things had gone poorly, I wanted you to know.”
Nate’s smile faltered, and he kissed my forehead.
“Arianna Maxwell,” James rumbled. Silver-grey eyes regarded me as seriously as they had when we were children, but the edges crinkled when he smiled. “How fortunate am I, that my first friend would someday become a sister?”
Eric punched him lightly on the arm, though he did not seem to notice that James startled. “Pretty fortunate, if you ask me.”
“It suits,” Nate said with a smile that soaked into my bones, “but I’m still going to call you sweetheart.”
Warmth tumbled and swelled deep inside my chest.
I had no reason to hide, and the future, far different from anything I had ever expected, lay open before me.
Standing there with my Nathaniel and my friends at my side, there at the unmaking of who I had been and the remaking of who I was always meant to be, I laughed.