Relic

VI: Aprilus 1 Year 242, A.H.

Only a few sleepless bells later, I stand on the platform at the center of the Aerie town square, encircled by the enormous fiery torches lit for the Testing’s vale.

I’ve stood on this platform dozens of times before, alongside my parents and Eamon. Every Testing Day for the past nine years, my father has spoken to the people of New North. But this is different. This time the lit torches and crowds are here for me.

I feel unmoored up here without Eamon. Everyone I have ever known—Aerie or Boundary—watches. Not that they have any choice; The Lex mandates the entire population’s attendance. I see two of my former School girlfriends—Grace and Annika—both of whom turned their backs on me when I decided to Test. Their scorn hurt only a little. My best friend had always been Eamon. My mother always lamented that our closeness prevented me from having many Maiden friends. Now, standing up here on this platform, I see something new in Grace and Annika’s eyes—not only revulsion for my choice, but also fear for my fate. When they see me staring down at them, they turn away.

For what little comfort can be offered, I turn to my family at the edge of the platform. As with everything in New North, the crowd is organized according to rank: Triad members in front, Keepers and their families right behind, with the regular Aerie folk like Stewards and Guards in back of them. And in the far rear, the Boundary people stand, a nearly uniform sea of black hair and dark eyes.

Not surprisingly, my mother is decked out in her finest Feast dress, even though the Prime Bell hasn’t even rung yet. She is peeking to her left, assessing the dress of the Triad wife next to her. My father isn’t watching me either. He stares at the crowd instead. When he braves a glance up, I understand why. He can’t conceal his own fear for me. The Lex forbade him to participate in Eamon’s training, and he’d been confident for his son. Not so, for me. Maybe making eye contact wasn’t the best idea. I want to stay strong. Or, at least, look strong. I think of The Lex: let your children Test should they choose the Commitment, as Testing is a Sacred Honor granted only by the Gods …

I turn my attention back to the platform. The eleven other Testors flank me. Gallants, all. Of course, there’s Jasper, but I know the others as well. You can’t attend the Aerie School and not be familiar with everyone your age, although we’re patently ignoring one another right now. We are all wearing the same black Testing uniform: tunics over pants topped by inky sealskin coats. Gone are my long Maiden gowns and fur cloaks, and I wonder if I look ridiculous up here, dressed like a Gallant. I really have no idea, as I’ve never seen myself at length. My father’s mirror Relic is the New North’s best and most stark reminder of that sacred law. The Lex bans the use of reflections, so we Aerie Ladies, Gentlewomen, and Maidens rely on the honesty of others to get a sense of our appearances. That, and the occasional peek at a window or smooth stretch of ice. And I didn’t get either honesty or ice today, other than a scornful look from my mother. Me: the would-be botanist, in my Testing uniform with my hair pinned up in the fishtail design favored by the Boundary women.

What am I doing up here?

The thought makes me self-conscious. I start to tremble. I have to fight to keep from losing my composure. I scan the crowds, desperate to catch sight of someone or something to stop the anxiety before it takes hold. At first, I notice only the tidy network of the Aerie town center—with its well-kept Keeps and interconnected, covered ice-bridges. Then, in the farthest reach of the town square, near the stone archway of the Housegoods Keep, I note some of our family Attendants, Katja among them. Her expression mirrors that of Grace and Annika; she looks both baffled and frightened. None of this helps my rattled nerves.

Only when I spot Lukas do I realize I’ve been searching for him all along. He sees what is happening. He mouths one word, the one he had uttered over and over in our training: “Believe.”

I can’t nod, but I blink hard and meet his eyes. I feel my feet on the ground again, solid. I stop shaking. When Father mounts the stage and begins speaking, I am composed enough to turn toward him and listen.

“Today, we gather for the Vale, the farewell to our Testors. These young men—” He clears his throat, and I wonder if his slip was unintentional—or even a subtle encouragement, that he truly thinks the same of me as he thought of Eamon. “Excuse me, these young people will leave the safety of the Aerie and venture toward the most hazardous part of New North—the Frozen Shores.”

Here, Jasper’s uncle Ian, the Chief Lexor, takes his ritual place beside my father. I can’t help but note that the deep lines carved into his face are once more dark and frozen. Gone is any trace of the celebratory Feast-goer I saw last night. In fact, if I allow my vision to blur, my father and Ian look very similar in their dark ritual garb, decorated only by the tiny Triad symbol above their hearts.

“The Testors place themselves in the gravest danger for the benefit of the New North people, to become Archons,” Ian intones. “We of New North need Archons to show us the perils of our ways before the Healing—the abuse of our Father Earth that yielded the Healing floods. We need to learn again of the hunger for Tylenols that poisoned our minds; the thirst for Cokes that weakened our bodies; the greed for MasterCards that toppled our rulers. All this evil spawned from the worship of the false god Apple …”

I find it hard to focus on Ian’s recitation of New North’s history and the creation of the Testing. I’ve heard it so often. The departure weighs heavily on me, and Eamon’s journal burns in my pocket. Certain phrases haunt me more than most: I can no longer ignore the truth of what I’ve learned—and—will they still love me when I do what I must … These passages are not at all like words my brother would have spoken aloud. The twin I thought I knew so well.

“It is time for the final Vale,” Ian concludes.

The Chief Basilikon steps onto the dais. He starts calling each of us forward to be anointed with symbolic Healing waters. When it’s my turn to approach the front of the platform, I swear I hear a quiet hiss throughout the crowd. I know that my participation in the Testing isn’t popular. Still, I’m shocked that anyone would be so audacious after the Triad approved my Commitment, especially since my father is the Chief Archon. I tell myself that I’ve imagined it.

Under the hawkeyed watch of the Ring-Guards, the people start to depart. They move toward that great rift in the Ring called the Gate, the only opening in the Ring.

There, all of New North will watch as we Testors gear up, mount our dogsleds, and ride off into the Boundary lands. I’ve witnessed the ritual every year of my life, but never imagined I’d be on one of those sleds.

As the people disperse, the three Chiefs give the Testors a final chance to say goodbye to their families.

One by one, we march down the platform stairs. I enter the huddle of my kin, and they pass me from aunt to uncle to cousin until my parents have a turn for a last embrace.

My mother, her face a mask of Lady-fortitude, goes first. Instead of hugging me like the rest of my family, she takes my shoulders in her hands. “Make us proud, Eva. This family has had enough grief.” I tell myself that there’s affection and concern underneath her façade, and I embrace her.

My father steps up. He wraps me up in his arms, as if I were a toddler. Into my ear, he whispers, “Don’t worry about winning, Eva. Worry about coming home.” He pulls back slightly and looks into my eyes. “Promise me that you won’t risk your life to win. I couldn’t bear losing my only child,” he whispers.

I can’t believe what he’s asking. It’s heresy to ask a Testor not to do their utmost: let your children Commit in full. Do not hold them back with sentiment. Not to mention that he’s Chief Archon, a Sacred Guardian of The Lex and Protector of The Praebulum.

“I promise,” I whisper back.

“Testors, it is time,” Ian tells us, once he’s loosened himself from the crowd surrounding his nephew Jasper.

I break from my father’s embrace and enter the line of twelve. As we begin to walk toward the Ring, I’m thinking only one thing: I’m wishing that The Lex didn’t forbid me from walking over to Lukas and saying goodbye. If I survive, credit will be his alone. And since his Companion work is over, he may well be sent back to the Boundary lands by the time I return.

We approach the Gate, and I see that the Gods have given me a chance. Lukas stands at the very tail end of the crowd. As our line passes close to where he stands, I break from tradition and wave farewell to the Aerie. But I look only at him.