Relic (The Books of Eva I) (20 page)

I am paralyzed with fear, staring down into the endless black. That could’ve been me, falling without end.
Move, Eva, move
, I tell myself,
or it will be you
. I cling to the face of the ice wall with my axe and my bear-claw boots, the only tools left to me. I have no choice but to climb back up, this time creeping inch by inch.

My progress is slow, hampered by the darkness. I have too many ticks to think about my stupidity. What was this all for? This final descent into the crevasse? For Elizabet? For anger over Jasper? Doesn’t he deserve to win? What about the Testing? Did I do it only for Eamon? Did he even believe in the Testing at the time of his death? Do I believe now?

Eamon. The Ring. His death.

He and I stand together—hands linked across time, both incredibly foolhardy. Only he died.

I can’t do that to my parents. I can’t allow another Ring-Guard to deliver the broken body of another child to their
doorstep. Remembering how crushed they were, how long it took for them to rebuild themselves as the Chief Archon and his Lady, and how doubtful I am that they’d be able to do so again, I realize that I must return to the Aerie by whatever means possible. Just as I promised my father the day I left for the Testing.

I will not let this crevasse or the Testing or my family or even The Lex defeat me. I will not doubt myself as Eamon did in the end:
will my family still love me when I do what I must?
I will survive, for Lukas and Eamon and Elizabet and myself. I’ll pray that love will remain in the face of survival.

The surface of the crevasse finally approaches. Uncertain how I’ll hoist my exhausted body over the lip, I see that Jasper left an ice screw behind. Hooking the tip of my axe into the hole of the ice screw, I test its strength and then pull myself the final distance. Too tired to care if I get caught, I lay at the rim, panting.

I hear footsteps running toward me. “Are you all right?”

“I am now,” I answer, without looking up. A hand reaches under my armpit and pulls me to standing. It’s the white-haired Boundary Climber. Again. He’s everywhere, it seems.

“You shouldn’t have been down there. It’s too dangerous.” He’s almost yelling at me.

“I know. The Lex prohibits it, and I’m sure the Scouts will
be thrilled when they hear about my Lex-breaking.” I’m so exhausted I’m shaking, but a new energy courses through me. “They’ve been waiting all Testing.”

“It’s not that, Eva.” He looks at the area around my Claim. “I mean, it’s pitch-black down there and your ice screw pulled out of the
masak
. You could’ve been killed. He would kill me if anything happened to you.”

“Who? Who would kill you?” Fear and sadness vanish. I wonder who would have possibly struck a deal with a Climber to protect me such that he would kill them if they failed. Until a few ticks ago, I might have suspected Jasper. Now I can only think of one person. Suddenly it all makes sense: the jealous glares, the hushed conversations, the resentment. I was never really in danger. “My father?”

The Climber looks away. “I can’t … I’d get in trouble if you got killed in the crevasse. It’s my job to make sure no one goes down there, right?”

I don’t believe him, but I’m too tired to argue right now. And anyway, I don’t think he’d tell me even if I insisted. “Right. Well, I guess you can take me back to the Scouts to face my punishment now.”

“You aren’t the only one who’d get punished, Eva.”

“So you’re not going to turn me in?”

“As long as you don’t turn me in.”

“It’s a deal.” I decide to try my luck. “Can I ask you one last question?”

“It depends on what it is.”

“Were you telling the truth about the New North people liking my Chronicle?”

“I always tell the truth.”

He gives me a little bow and walks off to continue his rounds. Legs wobbly, I walk the short distance back to
camp. I skirt around the perimeter so no one watches my approach. Then I sidle into my igloo to examine my new Relics.

I peel off my sealskin outer coats and lay out my mat. Opening my pack, I pull out the Apple amulet first. The talisman is rectangular and black, with a small metallic square poking out of the bottom. I notice that the metallic square is hollow, as if designed to slide into another object like a puzzle piece. The amulet itself hangs on a long black cord, so Elizabet could wear it close to her heart.

Returning to my pack, I slide out the diptych. I run my fingers along its smooth silver surface, tracing the Apple image on top. I linger on the tiny bite taken out of the Apple symbol. I’m nervous. The Apple diptych is the most blasphemous and dangerous of any man-made object. The Triad seeks them above all other Relics so they can protect the people of New North from their dark powers. I run my fingers along the gap where the two sides of the diptych meet. I’m sure there must be an opening somewhere; our diptychs have a little catch where we can raise the top open. Feeling a little groove under my fingertip, I hook my nail on it. I’ve broken so many rules already, I feel as if I’m in a dream. I have no choice but to open this altar.

There it is. The notorious blank surface to which the pre-Healing people prayed. On the other side are little squares with letters and numbers. Did they write out their supplications to Apple this way? No one really knows. I wonder if Elizabet believed that Apple answered her. It saddens me to think of her spending her final ticks sending messages to a god that was false.

It feels wrong not to turn this over to the Triad. But what
are my choices? I can’t divulge my discovery without also revealing that I broke The Lex and reentered the Site. Not only would I be disqualified from the Testing, I would risk severe punishment to the Climber, myself, and my family. The only Testor in the history of the Testing who entered a closed Site and tried to submit a late-found artifact was exiled to the Boundary lands—along with his family. I couldn’t do that to my parents, make them give up the Founding status my family has held since the Healing and the Chief Archon title for which my father worked so hard. They’ve been through too much already. Only the Gods know what the Triad would do to the Climber.

I decide to keep the altar hidden for now.

Maybe the coming days will show me a way to share my discovery without bringing harm upon myself. But even if they don’t, I feel a curious peace. They are a part of Elizabet, after all. Even if I lose, I want to keep a part of her with me always.

On the last night before we make the Passage into the Aerie, Jasper sits next to me at dinner, and I let him. For the past two
siniks
—since we left the Testing Site to return—I’ve sidestepped him. It’s been easy; we’ve spent every waking hour speeding back through the wilderness toward home. But my anger toward him has mellowed a little. And my curiosity has mounted, even though I tell myself it doesn’t matter. What does Jasper still want with me? When he clearly thinks so little of me? Has he re-thought his harsh judgment about my Chronicle? The judgment I now fear will be shared by the Aerie people, including the Triad?

Jasper doesn’t say anything at first. He doesn’t eat anything. He doesn’t even pretend to.

I let my thoughts return to the disturbing observations
I’ve made since we left the Testing Site. The return journey is amazingly short. All we have to do is navigate our teams over a fixed, well-worn path obviously familiar to Scouts and Boundary Fishermen and Hunters alike. None of my fellow Testors seem to notice the incongruity of it all, not even Jasper. It’s surreal. The fact that the journey could’ve been so easy—that we needn’t have risked, and lost, so much—makes me furious in a different way. The Testing seems more and more like a cruel inside joke understood only by a select few. No matter that The Lex itself—and through it, the Gods—sanctifies it. Is this what Eamon discovered? That the sacred has been corrupted? Maybe mankind hasn’t changed all that much since the Healing.

Jasper clears his throat, interrupting my dark thoughts.

“Eva,” he whispers, “I’m sorry.”

I don’t answer. If he’s expecting me to fall over backward in forgiveness, he’s wrong. The wound he left is way too deep. Instead, I keep eating.

“I messed up. I shouldn’t have talked like that to you.”

He sounds genuine, but there’s something missing in his apology. I don’t hear him say that he thinks he was wrong. I have to know what he really believes.

“Do you believe the things you said to me were wrong? Or do you think they’re true, and you’re just sorry you actually said them to me? Because I’m a Maiden, or something equally stupid.”

Jasper pauses. He seems a little stumped by my question. Then he says, “That’s kind of hard to answer, Eva. I mean, The Lex states we are to use Relics to teach, not tell stories. But I also know how good you are and how dedicated you are to fulfilling the Testing’s purpose—just like Eamon. I guess I’m having a hard time making sense of how The
Lex’s words could fit your actions. It makes me confused about the Testing, actually.”

I resist the urge to reach out. Most Gallants would just spout off some flowery language to appease me. Not to mention, he’s taking a big risk by making such a confession—questioning The Lex at all is tantamount to breaking it. More than that, I share his confusion about The Lex, the Testing, his role, our relationship, everything. Has he been feeling the same way as me all along?

“Thanks, Jasper.”

He looks surprised. “For what? I know I didn’t offer you the right kind of apology, the Gallant kind.”

“For being honest.”

We sit quietly for a few long ticks. The fire crackles and the busy hum of the camp takes the place of our discussion. I push my food around on my plate. I don’t know what to say next. And I’m afraid of what he might say.

Jasper flashes me that bright smile of his. Then he leans forward and whispers, “It would be an honor to have an Archon in the family. Whoever it turns out to be.”

Our return to the Aerie is so different from our departure. A huge ceremonial procession, complete with flying red banners and a phalanx of Scouts and Boundary Climbers and Attendants: we travel as one. We are no longer a bunch of scared eighteen-year-olds, sent out for the Gods to choose an Archon; we are a fierce pack of returning survivors. Or we play those roles, anyway.

With each step, my heart pounds faster. The amulet and altar seem to grow heavier in my pack. The Ring looks enormous from the outside. Without the ice and stone buildings of the Aerie to soften it, it rises up from the ice flats of the Boundary lands like a tower jutting toward the heavens. Precisely as The Lex describes it. I feel as though the Ring is judging me from on high, almost like one of the Gods. I
silently pray that the New North people adjudicate me more kindly than the Ring appears to, and that they don’t make me into an example for trying something so risky with my Chronicle.

Our entire procession has stopped at a makeshift camp just outside the Ring. Testors and Scouts alike pause to prepare before we make the Passage. As they do, they chatter about the Testing and their chances. I catch loads of references to Jasper, but no one mentions me. The Climber must have been lying about the people’s reaction to my Chronicle. He was probably having fun at my expense; maybe he even knew that I stood to be punished for my Chronicle and mocked me.