“What did the doctor say?” She asks, taking the same chair she used last night. “Did he tell you why you’ve been sick? Can you leave yet?”

“We can go if we choose, but otherwise, he was little help. I didn’t tell him of the tremors, but I don’t think he would have listened anyway. We’ll have to continue to Himat- to Bond Clan.” I amend. I see Zara fight back a smile.  “In the meantime, I require more information. I hoped you would share what you know about this illness.”

“It’s not an illness. It’s the call of your Gin-Hai.” The servant pipes up. Havocs, I think his name is.

“Though I never heard anyone say it hurt that much.” Zara frowned and accepted an ice chip from Caspian. “Or talk about seeing their mate in a vision, if that’s what it was.”

“Then that is our starting point.” I decide. “You must tell me everything you know of these anomalies.”

She nods. “People of the Clans, we each have gifts. Sometimes, they’re small and used as hobbies. Other times, you can use them to support yourself. Like Bash might go to school to be an electrician.”

The lights in the room flicker on and off three times, and his brown eyes flicker with golden sparks at us.

“But I’m one of the former.” She continues. “My gifts, they’re pretty low-key. I train with them thanks to my grandmother, and sometimes I put on shows for the kids at festivals or markets or something.” There’s a wistful smile settling on her mouth. “Though lately, mine are all over the place. Afterward, I felt like you did. Achy and worn out.”

Casper is scribbling, and Havocs is looking increasingly uncomfortable.

IS IT LIKE A SUPERPOWER? I READ ABOUT THOSE AS A CHILD.

"I thought they had gifts in The Districts?" She replies instead of answering him.

“The founding families aren’t allowed to.” I shrug. “Only working-class clan members with visas can.”

“What do you me-” Her friend rolls his eyes, nudging her.

“You never paid attention in school! Remember? The Treaty of the Table, they signed it after the Rift war,” He reminds her. When Zara continues to look mystified, he groans.

“The Treaty of the Table happened when the Founding Families agreed to a peace treaty between themselves and the Clan leaders. It was an agreement, signed on a Clan table using District pen and ink.” I’m surprised at how knowledgeable he is, even slightly impressed. “Those who had gifts but wanted to live under District governing could do so, provided they were never put into positions of power. The Founding Families also agreed their gifts would never be used and took the treaty as a sign of good faith. Over time, the gifts in their DNA went dormant, and The Families haven’t had them since.”

Casper claps—Zara fake snores.

“He’s right. Our people are far more restrictive about genetic anomalies - err gifts. Our goal is to have an orderly and efficient society. Everyone having weird powers would get in the way of that.” I explain, passing Casper a fresh cup of the chips. Zara’s smile is twisting into a purse of her lips.

“But what if they have a gift, like… like metal bending or something? Your gift is something unique, only to you. It deserves the chance to be explored.” 

“You’re actually- you can’t be serious.” Her head tilts, and I sigh, ignoring Casper, who’s trying to wave discretely and catch my eye. “Miss Rueben, it’s common sense. If an ability is strong enough to manifest, allowing beings to roam free with that sort of power at their fingertips could be dangerous. My housekeeper can teleport small distances, for example. It’s useful but needs to be kept under control.”

“Control?”

“Yes. Now, in your case, little amusements  you fritter away the time with are fine”-

Casper is now all but flailing, ice chips pushed aside and stabbing at his board.

DUDE NO

“Little amusements?” Zara says.

STOP.

Something cold and hard hits me.

“Well… yes.” I should have phrased it better. “My housekeeper could cause real damage while you are inconsequential.”

HERE’S YOUR FACE. SHUT IT—another cold chunk.

“I only mean that there’s no reason to waste time on things to amuse children when you could be doing something worthwhile that actually helps them.”

Casper sags back. Too late do I hear how my words might have sounded.

“That was not as delicately put as it might have been. I only meant-” Her arms fold, expression closing.

“You have the NERVE to call our beautiful gifts “amusements” and imply we’re dangerous!”

"Interestingly, your goals don't include being more polite." Havocs is behind her, face a thunder cloud, and fists clenched tight at his sides.

"I didn't mean to."

"You didn't mean for us to hear how backward you think we all are? We're good enough to save your life, but if we had any decency, we should have left you unconscious on the healing center’s doorstep! " Zara snaps, rising and shoving her chair back simultaneously. I think she's done this before because Havocs steps aside neatly while it goes shooting back. 

"I'm-" She puts a finger to my lips, which shocks me enough that I stop talking and turns to Casper.

"Save it. Did the crack to the head put him in a funk, or is he always an ass?"

Casper's blue eyes are saucers, and she scoffs in disgust before heading for the door.

"I take it it's the latter. I’ve decided we’re going to Bond Clan. You can get your cure and out of my hair, thanks."

Havocs smirks before following her out, and we're alone once more. I put my aching head in my hands and think of breathing, equations, and random facts until I can meet Casper's eye. This time, he doesn't bother with the pad.

"Dude," He mutters.

"I know," I say.

"Dude," He groans again. I'm rapidly pelted with ice chips.

"On a scale of one to ten... how badly did that just go?" I finally asked, still searching for the cold bits under my blankets.

He huffs at me and sips at his ice water until his throat is soothed.

"Get in another car accident, and she might forgive you for this," He croaks.

"Thought so."

***

Miss Rueben and Havocs have not spoken to us since I made my social blunders.  I remind myself I must go along with all this to cure my illness. For now, I try to lose myself in my new surroundings.

 We drive beneath a gleaming white arch, water from a massive fountain shaped like a world tree spraying towards my helmet in the breeze. Clan and District names alike are inscribed on its branches. There's a dizzying array of fabrics, rustling and swirling in the clan colors as leaves, gardens, and air.

We pull in front of a second, smaller arch. A glass dome-roofed building is directly beneath it, red-bricked with metal letters over the doorframe that say ADMISSIONS. Zara climbs off the bike in front of me.

 Kova's little head pops out of the backpack she's slung over her shoulders, watching me as the pair disappears. I remove my helmet, looking over at Casper and Havocs.

"Where-" But Havocs is already explaining.

"She's finding out where we need to be. You can't just walk in; at least, I don't think so," He tells Cas.

"And then what happens?" He asks. Casper is as curious as I am.

 "Then we need to prepare her for the rites. You two-" Havocs nods at me, dismissive in the simple gesture- "Will probably be shown a separate area. The Bond mates do not ready themselves together since the edges need to be smoothed before joining the two halves."

"I've studied this. It's your mating ritual?" His Chancellor's voice. Casper is using the Chancellor's voice. He is not my best friend standing beside me; a mix of exuberance and nerves threaten to suffocate me.

Havocs  lips curl and his eyes snap in amusement.

"Yeah. If you want to call it that."

Casper nods sagely, and I wonder when he had the time to research this. The last time we talked, he couldn't even pronounce the name.

"Alright," He agree but is interrupted by Zara's reappearance.

"Where to boss?" Havocs jokes. She puts her bag in the side basket, ensuring Kova is comfortable.

"We need to go to our Clan house. They're marked, and that's where I get ready. Then we return to the building, and they'll determine if we're Bond mates." She's doing her best to look everywhere but at me. "You guys have to go to the house for the Districts. It's kept up as "a sign of good faith." She shrugs, and Havocs looks like he wants to ask her something, but she shares a glance with him and stays silent.

"Show us," I say.

***

The campus houses several buildings, the pathways that lead to each starting at a section of the fountain. Each building is decorated to represent the Clan it stands for. I can see red brick and smell charcoal; we pass one Clan building within the thick branches of a massive tree. Multiple guests heading towards it jump up and climb the red bark, using the rough-hewn knots and footholds kicked in over decades of use to make their way to a landing roughly fifty feet off the ground.

We’re left at a small, unsuspecting gray stone building with only the logos of our Districts to show it means anything. The building is in good condition, but there is only a single light currently on, and when we step inside, a bored-looking strawberry blonde sitting behind the clerk's desk greets us.

" If we were "meant to be" as these people seem to expect, then all foundations and walks of life would be represented," I mutter.

"Not so, not since the great rift," The woman scolds, coming from behind the desk. She pulls up glasses hanging on a thickly braided purple chain around her neck and rests them on the bridge of her nose.

"You're referencing the war between Districts and Clans?" Casper asks politely, curiously. She nods.

"Aye. I received a message ahead of you. You're the young man from the Districts?" She asks. Casper shakes his head.

"No, I'm not that lucky. That would be my friend here." He nudges me forward, and I try not to cut my eyes at him in betrayal.

"Interesting. We'll need you to sign the registration book than Mr. Finch." She offers me a leather-bound book, so old that I'm made to put on gloves before handling it, and given ink and quill.

The researcher in me can't help but be fascinated; the pages have yellowed with age, but they've been handled so reverently that the writing is still legible. On the first page is a flowing script with so many names that I can't possibly read them all, yet I want to try.

Abernathy Madsen

Bronte Fieldchester

Byron Fitzsimmons

Terran J. Finch

The name gives me pause. I reread it.

Terran J. Finch.

There it is, clear as day and in the same handwriting framed in my father's office.  

Terran J. Finch is my ancestor, a founding father of one of our five districts. 

And he made the same journey I did, for what? How come I never knew about this?

"Interesting reading, no?" Her hands are work-worn, her face with lines deeper than one her age should have. 

"Yes, well..." I clear my throat. A clean sheet in a new section of the book is where I write my name carefully, ignoring the uncertainty gnawing at my gut. Besides, it is another feeling, though. 

"You feel what the others did." She nods, satisfied. "That same sense of home. Welcome. I am Vena." 

 “Thank you. It's been a long journey, and I've business to attend to, so if you show us to our rooms-" I begin, but Vena's loud guffaw cuts me off. 

"You even talk like a District man. I pity your Bond mate. They've got their work cut out for them. But it's something they can handle, no doubt." She turns, heading to a new mint hallway behind her.

"Come. You must prepare for the Rites." 

"I can’t…" She blinks in surprise, and I hurry to amend my previous statement. "That is, I need to speak with a physician." 

Vena frowns. "You must perform the Rites. You will feel the strength of the connection steadying you soon," She insists.

"But-"

"What my friend means to say is that we would like to get started if you'll show us where we can wash up?" Casper cuts in smoothly. She smiles at his charm and heads for the hallway again.

"We aren't home right now. We're in their space and need to respect the customs if we want anything to go right for us here," Casper whispers. 

We follow her.

 ****

Vena brings us to a marble room through stained glass doors. Five arches make up the space, carved with scenes representing each of the Districts. Apparatus is a carved gear system and depicts a man at a wooden worktable.

In the center of the space is a steaming sunken bath, with glass cabinets lining one wall and filled with things like fluffy white towels, soaps, and jars of multiple colors and sizes.

"From where does your mate hail?" Vena asks, making a beeline for the first Case.

"Uh..." What did Zara say? "Um-"

"She's from River Bend," Casper fills in smoothly. She brightens and selects a small bottle.

"You will cleanse yourself with this. A soap from your mate's Clan to show you wash away the old life and prepare your soul for one with her. He is your witness and second?" She gestures to Casper, who perks up at being included.

"Casper's my best friend. Does that count for whatever I need him for?" She sighs at my answer but nods.

"I will have to show you your Rites. It's a shame, truly. This is to be a day of celebration, not confusion." She gestures towards Casper. "Your second is the one you have brought with you for this journey towards your Bond mate. Often, they are family or a dear friend who can stand with you as a show of goodwill and home," She explains.

"Yeah, that's why I'm here. Finch is my best friend. Whatever he needs me to do." Casper pipes up. I am touched and hope that my expression shows it.

"Excellent. You will bathe Mr. Finch now and help him put on the dressing of the rite. I assume you have brought the proper attire?" She pulls out a small stack of towels.

"Proper attire? Is it a black-tie affair?" I hadn't thought to pack anything like that. I'd chosen clothes comfortable enough to travel in and well-cut to appear still respectable.

"No, your clothing for the Rites. Surely you have something that might be presentable for an occasion like this?" She tries again. "A suit tailored for the evening. A coat you've had made. A good pair of socks?" She takes in our blank expressions and her lips purse.

"Never mind. I'll bring you some clothes when you get out of the bath. You follow the instructions in this book, alright? We have an oil for your hair, your emblem for your District needs to be painted on your chest, and you get food. Then, you'll return to the main building and go through the Rites. Got it?" She asks, dropping all pretenses.

"Got it." Casper's brow furrows beside me.

"Um... that part about me bathing him? You wanna run that by me again?" Her face is unmoving, though I think I see her eyes twinkle.

"You will bathe him to ready him for the Rites. I'll be back in twenty minutes with the clothes, so make sure you're clean and drying off by then," She snickers as the door closes behind her.

I hate it here.