Relic (The, Books of Eva I)

by Heather Terrell

  By the Gods. My Chronicle must have shocked New North into silence. Surely it’s the time for my judgment. Before, I’d wished that he would ease my suffering and announce my sentence immediately, but now I want more time to plan an escape. I scan the crowds and the Ring-walls looking for way to break free. If I could just make it through the Gate to my dog team, I know I could survive beyond the Ring …

  I half-hear my father continue. “Eva, you would have heard silence followed by cheers. Silence to commemorate Elizabet Laine and a life lost to the Healing, and cheers for you in recognizing the story in her Relics and capturing it so we could understand.”

  I whirl from the crowds and stare at him. Did he really just say what I think I he said? Did he actually just compliment me for my rogue Chronicle? In his role as Chief Archon, not my father?

  “It is time!” he calls out.

  The thousand torches are abruptly extinguished. Although it is still day, the Aerie town square becomes dark under the cloudy, late afternoon sky. My father lights the single torch on the stage and then, unrolls the scroll he has held in his hand since he stepped onto the stage.

  “The Gods have made their decision. The new Archon is Eva.”

  I pass from person to person like a baby on her Water-naming day. I hardly feel the hands and the arms and lips on my cheek. I am numb and reeling simultaneously. I wonder if I’ll ever feel normal again. Did I really just win the Archon Laurels?

  It seems impossible. True, I’d harbored aspirations of winning. I even once believed that I stood a chance. But after Jasper’s discovery and after I realized that the novelty of my Chronicle might backfire upon me, I stopped fantasizing about victory and started worrying about the very real possibility of punishment. Anyway, even if I hadn’t written such a risky Chronicle, who was I to seek the Laurels? The first Maiden Testor in one hundred and fifty years? A girl who hadn’t started training until three months before the Testing? Mother was right to be dismissive.

  But something swayed the odds in my favor. What was it?

  Just as I finish extricating myself from the suffocating embrace of my father’s aunt, Jasper approaches with his parents. I’m not sure what to expect, no matter his “happy to have an Archon in the family” remark. Everything has changed. I watch as my parents straighten their Feast-day clothes; clearly, they’re a little apprehensive too.

  The Lex demands that our parents speak first, and I’m relieved. Even though Jasper is smiling at me, I wouldn’t want to utter anything foolish in this dicey situation.

  My father bows to Jasper’s parents. “We thank the Gods that they returned Jasper and Eva home to us safely. We are blessed, as two Testors were lost in the Lex-sanctified quest.”

  Jasper’s mother nods in acceptance of his words, clever in their focus on our safe homecoming. It was the only prayer that my father had offered on our last night in the Aerie, when our two families were gathered together.

  The iciness of Jasper’s mother is apparent, but she knows better than to say what she really thinks. That I’d robbed her precious son of what should be his—of a title that someone in every generation of her family had held since the Healing. That I don’t deserve it. That the Triad should never have let a female compete in the first place. She wouldn’t dare utter such statements in front of the Chief Archon. Or me, now.

  “You will come to our home afterward? To Feast with us?” my father asks.

  She cannot say no. It would do me dishonor as the new Archon—and my father as Chief Archon. Not to mention that my father didn’t insult her by explicitly inviting her to celebrate my victory. Just our homecoming.

  Jasper is still beaming at me. He’s acting truly happy with my victory, not upset by his own loss like so many despondent Testors around us. I’d like to believe that he’s the friend I’d been hoping he was. But I wonder what’s really behind that smile.

  Our meeting is interrupted by a visit from Ian and the Chief Basilikon. Jasper and his family bow to their relative and then take their leave, while my mother and I do a deep curtsy. The once-automatic gesture feels strange in my stiff and filthy Testor uniform. My pack weighs me down as I bend—but I strive for Maidenly grace.

  “You should be very proud of your Eva,” Ian commands rather than observes, using the full power of his Chief Lexor voice.

  “She has done honor to the Gods, and her family,” my father answers, and I swell with pride at his words.

  “Her Chronicle was most powerful,” the Chief Basilkon says, echoing my father’s words on the stage. I can’t quite tell if he’s praising me, or begrudgingly accepting my victory, or lying about the whole thing. Maybe he itched for punishment instead of Laurels, but he has some secret reason for publicly forgiving my impropriety. My father’s position, maybe? I can’t help but think about Eamon’s words from his journal—I can no longer ignore the truth of what I’ve learned. Had he learned something about the Chief Basilkon? Something that would compel the Basilikon to excuse the irregularity of my Chronicle? Perhaps so he can hold me under his sway?

  “Enjoy your thirty days with her. After that, she’ll be off for her Archon training,” Ian directs. As if he could order happiness.

  My father places his arm around me. “We’ve already planned. We will relish every tick.”

  The other two chiefs of the Triad turn to leave. My parents and I assume our genuflections and curtsies. Then, arms linked, we head home.

  The walk, which once seemed quite long, is but a few steps. In ticks, we are through the door. Everything seems impossibly luxurious after so many days on dogsleds and in crevasses, so many nights in igloos and tents. Especially since the tables of the solar and dining room—heaped high with fruit, beautifully sculpted breads and cakes, roasted fish and fowl—are already laid out for a great Feast.

  “How did you know?” I ask.

  “What do you mean, Eva?” my father asks back.

  “How did you know that I’d win? You said ‘we’ve already planned.’ Even though you’re the Chief Archon, you couldn’t have possibly known that I’d be named the new Archon and thrown together a Feast of this magnitude just today. And if it’s been Jasper that had won, his family would be holding the Feast today.”

  My parents shoot each other an inscrutable glance. My mother answers, “Eva, it seemed impossible that you should lose. You can’t imagine how you moved the New North people with your Chronicle at the Gatherings. We had never heard so wrenching a tale of the end. That poor girl.”

  The contraband in my pack reminds me of something. I carefully extricate my father’s Relic: the mirror that earned him the role of Chief Archon. “I would have met my end were it not for this,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Thank you for allowing me to take it.”

  My father nods solemnly and replaces the mirror on its spot on the mantle, faced toward the Sun. “Eva, the Gods have blessed you with a special gift. To see the hidden truth that lay within the Relics. And to tell that truth so powerfully. No other Testor has ever had that talent. Not in the entire history of the Testing.”

  My eyes well with tears. He speaks of truth, but he means stories. My mind turns to Nurse Aga at whose feet I began to learn storytelling. I step close to them. I am awestruck by their compliments. “Truly?”

  “Truly,” my father answers.

  “Truly,” my mother echoes, with a sniff.

  I think she’s holding back tears. But I see a grimace. For the first time in siniks, it registers that I’ve spent too long in these exact same clothes. In the warmth and closeness of the stone building, I realize the problem: I don’t smell Maidenly.

  “Eva, you really must bathe before our Guests arrive for the Feast,” my mother manages in her whispery Lady voice. She can only hold back her Lady ways for so long.

  My father glances my way, and nods. “That would be wise, Eva. I noticed your—umm—aroma in the town square. I didn’t want to embarrass you before we arrived home.”

  I laugh. After all that I’ve faced thes
e past twenty-eight siniks—body-wrenching cold, hunger, suspected conspiracy against me, near-death drops—the last thing I thought about was how I smelled. Yet back at the Aerie, it’s one of the first things I’ve got to tackle. My shoulders slump in relief. I am home. “I’m hardly embarrassed, Father. I would love nothing more than a long, hot bath.” I also welcome the excuse to lock myself in my bedroom and hide the amulet and altar that I’ve been carrying.

  My mother smiles. Not only have I stepped into her realm, I am happily agreeing to her suggestions. For once. “I’ve already ordered your Companion Katja to prepare it.”

  Katja? I’d almost forgotten about her.

  I turn to give my parents a hug before racing upstairs, but something makes me hesitate. I’m excited and relieved to see them, but everything feels just a little too easy. Their Feast preparations, the Archon Laurels, Jasper’s amiable reaction. So I give them a smile and a wave. Still, my own stench reminds me that I am Maiden once again. I must also keep the stench of my secrets hidden.

  “Give me a tick,” I call at the knock on my bedroom door. I assume it’s Katja. Earlier in the day, I had dismissed her so I could be alone in my room and bath; my siniks outside the Ring taught me to relish solitude. But now, with the guests beginning to arrive for the Feast, she’s probably eager to see if I need any help before I head downstairs.

  I’ve got to be quick and hide the altar and amulet; I couldn’t resist looking at them once I was alone. The compulsion to make Elizabet real again was much too strong. I slide the altar back into my pack and bury it the bottom of a pile of smelly Testing garments. Until I find a suitable hiding spot, I figure that the smell and grime alone will keep the altar safe from everyone tonight, including Katja, whom I instructed not to touch them. Then I hang the amulet around my neck and tuck it beneath my Feast dress. I want to have Elizabet close to me—it’s her night, too. Looking down, I’m pleased that the sumptuous pattern my mother embroidered on the gown’s bodice masks the amulet. I must remember to thank my mother for the elaborate new dress; she must have worked on it the entire time I was gone.

  “Come in,” I yell.

  The door opens. But it’s not Katja. It’s Lukas.

  I stand up and grin crazily. Grasping onto his hands, I blurt out, “I’ve been wanting to speak with you since I saw you in the town square. How can I thank you for all you taught me? I could never have survived without you, let alone won. You were with me beyond the Ring, Lukas. Every tick.”

  He smiles back, his grip tight and warm. “Thank you, Eva, but you did it yourself. I’m so happy you won the Laurels, but most of all, I’m happy you’re home.”

  “Me, too,” I said.

  We grow quiet. There’s so much I want to say, but I hardly know where to begin. Maybe he feels the same way. Or maybe it’s just the Boundary quietude in him.

  “I’ve come to say goodbye, Eva.”

  “Goodbye? I’ve only just returned. I’ve got thirty more days here at home before I have to go study with the Archons. I wanted to go over every detail of the Testing with you.”

  He lets go of me. “It’s not you that’s leaving. It’s me. Your parents were kind to let me stay until you got back. Tomorrow, I go home to the Boundary lands. Until my reassignment, at least.”

  “No! I have so much I want to talk with you about. How can they do that?”

  “It is their right within The Lex, Eva. You know that. They did me a kindness to let me stay so long. So I could attend the Gathering every day, to hear about your progress.”

  I know he’s right, even though it seems unfair. On impulse, I hug him. He is stiff at first. But then he relents and hugs me back. As we separate, I notice a corner of the Apple altar peeking out from my pack at the bottom of the sealskin heap. I must not have closed up the pack all the way. Surreptitiously, I try to kick it back under the pile.

  “What is that, Eva?”

  “Just some junk from my Testing gear.”

  He tries to walk toward it, but I stand between him and the pile. “I wouldn’t get too close. My Testing clothes don’t smell too fresh.” I try to distract him with a joke.

  As he leans over to touch the altar, I pull away his hand.

  “Stop, Lukas,” I warn him.

  It’s only the third time I’ve ever ordered him to do anything, even though he’s technically my servant. Behind his usual mask, his eyes flicker with disbelief.

  When he tries again, I lunge for the altar and clutch it in my arms. I can feel the altar gleam in the lamplight of my bedroom, surreal and almost magical amidst the ice-solid world of the Aerie. Lukas is staring at it.

  “It’s an Apple altar, isn’t it?” he whispers.

  “How do you know?” Very few people have ever seen one, even in a textbook. And Lukas doesn’t read our Latin.

  “I know a lot more about Apple altars than you think.”

  I glare at him. All of a sudden he feels like a stranger. Yet I am more angry at him than scared of his terrifying boast. “Like what?”

  “It wouldn’t be safe for me to tell you. Please turn it over, Eva.”

  “No. It’s mine. I mean, it was Elizabet’s. And I can’t turn it over to the Triad because I didn’t find it until the Testing was already over. You know what they could do to me.”

  He turns to me, his eyes sharp. “I don’t mean for you to turn it over to the Triad. I mean for you to turn it over to me, Eva. Please.” Despite his use of the word “please,” he isn’t asking me. He is commanding me.

  I step away from him. Why is he speaking to me this way? “You? Why would I give it to you? If anyone, I should give it to the Triad.”

  He draws very, very close to me. His chest and broad shoulders are an ice wall. “Don’t you understand that I am acting for your own safety? Have I ever asked you to do anything that wasn’t for your protection?”

  I shake my head, unable to speak.

  “Then please trust me.”

  “I’m not the same naive Maiden who left for the Testing, Lukas,” I whisper. “I’m stronger than I was before and smarter, too. I’m not going to just hand this Apple altar over to you just because you protected me in the past. I want a reason.”

  Lukas hesitates. “That Apple altar isn’t what you think it is, Eva. If you let me have it until a bell after dawn, I promise you that I will reveal its secrets to you. Elizabet’s secrets.”

  Elizabet’s secrets? What in the Gods is he talking about?

  I hear my father yell up the stairs. “Eva, your guests await you.”

  I am at a loss. I need to understand what Lukas is talking about, but I know if I don’t go downstairs right now, someone will come up after me. And they’ll stumble upon so many violations of The Lex that I’ll be stripped of my victory and sentenced to death. I want to trust Lukas. Eamon trusted him implicitly. I relied on Lukas utterly in the Testing.

  Then again, I trusted Jasper, and he turned out to be less than completely honest with me. And now Lukas, who’s been the only reliable presence in my life, suddenly possesses secret and blasphemous knowledge. But more disturbing, he seems very afraid for me, more afraid than he ever was when we prepared for the Testing. And the stakes are incredibly high; this is Elizabet and her Apple altar that we’re talking about. So I ask him the one question for which I still have time.

  “Are you suggesting that my Chronicle was wrong?” I ask.

  “I wish that was all, Eva.”

  I descend the stairs to the solar with a heavy heart. I wanted to feel light and joyful, if only for this one night. Now that Lukas has the Apple altar, he has taken any possibility of joy from me. Maybe forever. But the Feast awaits and I slip back into my Maiden role, as if I’d never gone beyond the Ring. I smile demurely at the compliments of my aunts and uncles. I kneel for the Basilikon’s blessing with the anointed Healing waters. I stand by as glass after glass of mead is lifted in toasts to my victory. I watch as our guests shovel mouthfuls of glorious abundant food into themselves. And I stand by
and listen to my Relics and my Chronicle become legend.

  It sounds as if everyone believes they know my Elizabet. They talk about her life so proprietarily, as if she was their discovery instead of mine. It bristles, and I unconsciously touch the amulet hidden under my dress bodice.

  “Is there a fray in the stitching, dear?” My mother asks. Nothing escapes her prying eyes. I’d been so distracted by my encounter with Lukas that I’d forgotten to thank my mother for the gown. “Oh no, Mother. It’s gorgeous. How can I thank you?”

  “Just being here today, looking so lovely and alive, is my thanks,” she says, very kindly and gently. So unlike her old self.

  I feel a sudden surge of sympathy for my mother, and I squeeze her hand tight. “Well, I do thank you. I feel like a true Lady.”

  She smiles and squeezes my hand back. “You look like one.”

  The Feast conversation grows lively, and my mother and I turn to a very animated Jasper. He’s regaling the guests with tales from the Testing, injecting levity into moments I remember more darkly. I take a tick to steal a glance at Lukas. He stands against the wall with the other Attendants as if nothing passed between us, just waiting to serve us as if it were any other day. How can he be so implacable, when my own stomach roils and my heart pounds at the thought of Elizabet’s secrets? Should I really have trusted him enough to hand over my Apple altar? I can’t go back now.

  I hear the words “musk ox” being bandied about, and it catches my attention. Seeing my gaze, Jasper smiles at me, and continues his story, “So, I watch as Eva hauls the thing out the Taiga by herself. A musk ox!”

  One of my aunts gasps. Our other guests squeal in laughter at the thought of Maidenly Eva dragging one of New North’s hugest creatures out of the forest, alone. I smile along with them, but it feels strange. Almost as if the Testing had been created solely for New North’s entertainment. I wonder what the families of Tristan and Anders are doing right now. Surely not laughing.