No Attendants, either. Where is everyone? True, it is Basilika Day, but someone helped the Keeper open the shop and set up the display of threads.
We work our way farther into the warren of workrooms, at last entering the area where the thread is dyed. Finally I see an Attendant.
The Attendant’s back faces me, as he’s busy with a pestle and mortar, crushing buckthorn berries to make a brilliant green shade. I can only see his hands. They are strong and muscular with calluses on every knuckle, and a distinctive scar that comes only from the lightning-fast slide of a sealskin rope across the palm. They are not the hands of a Clothing Keep Attendant but a Climber.
My heart soars. I’ve found him.
XXVI.
Augustus 1
Year 242, A.H.
I lie awake in the darkness, waiting for the house to quiet. My parents went to bed after the evening meal, but it wasn’t until about a half bell ago that I heard the gentle rumbles of my father’s snoring. Still, I had to wait; the scurrying sounds of the Attendants finishing their nightly tasks continued until about a quarter bell ago. Only then could I consider my next steps.
I tell myself that I can rise within fifteen ticks. That should be long enough for the whole household to deepen their sleep such that my creeping to the turret won’t awaken them. I’m so nervous—about getting caught or seeing Lukas, I’m not sure which—that I can hardly stay still under the covers. That, and the fact that I’m wearing my full Archon uniform under the bedcovers and am boiling hot.
In an effort to still my mind and body, I recall that moment earlier today at the Clothing Keep when Lukas turned and realized I was standing behind him.
His dark brown eyes widened in shock. For an instant his lips formed that wide, rare smile of his. His lips parted as he began to offer greetings before he recollected where we were and who we were meant to be. Then he snapped his mouth shut. And in the next instant, his brow furrowed in anger. He’d made me promise to stay away, to allow him to find me. Still, I wanted to hug him; so fearful I had been for that tick when I thought it might be him on the gallows.
The Keeper ignored Lukas, and I followed his lead. A Maiden of the Aerie would not be expected to recognize an Attendant in any event; eyebrows would be raised if I greeted a Boundary worker unprompted. I pretended to hang on the Keeper’s every word as he led me past the row of blue dyes, carefully stored in ice bowls. As I did, I brushed up against Lukas’s arm, slowing his rhythmic pestle motions.
Standing on my tiptoes, I examined each ice bowl. “These are exquisite, Keeper. Truly.”
“Thank you, Maiden Eva.”
I returned to the two shades nearest Lukas. Drawing close enough to him that I could hear his breathing, I whispered in my lowest voice, “Tonight I will come.”
Before Lukas could react, I summoned the Keeper. “Here. If we combine these two shades, I think we will come close to the brilliant blue of the Frozen Shore’s glacial waters.”
“Maiden Eva, I will make the most beautiful blue thread for your Union gown that the Aerie has ever seen.”
The Keeper offered his hand to guide me back to the Ladies. I wanted to look back at Lukas one last time, but I couldn’t bear to see the expression on his face at the mention of my Union day. I took the Keeper’s outstretched hand and returned to the Ladies.
Now, lying here alone and thinking of Lukas, my stomach churns. I know he’s furious with me for breaking my oath. But I had no choice; our window to examine the Tech is too small. We must study it before it is moved into some antechamber I can’t access. Or worse, either intentionally or ignorantly altered.
I’m sure Lukas will understand. He must. Once he understands that we’ve found the Tech from the original Founders’ ship, the Genesis. The very same Tech that raised so many questions for Madeline about the creation of The Lex and the founding of New North. Questions undoubtedly important for Lukas’s precious Angakkuq.
I slide off the covers and pad onto the floor. My kamiks are silent, but my floorboards are not. They creak like the ravens of spring. I walk in the heel-toe manner Lukas taught me for hunting, and the creaking stops. Before anyone is the wiser, I’m down the hallway and onto the turret. I breathe hard, making a cloud in the air before me. Scanning the landscape brightened slightly by the half-moon, I see no one. Not a single Ring-Guard making his rounds or a lone Aerie guard patrolling the Aerie lanes. This is my moment.
I drive my ice screw into a crevice between the stones of the turret. My line drops to the ground a hundred feet below with a satisfying thud. Positioning myself on the rim of the turret, my back to the ground, I slide down the sealskin rope, leave the safety of my home, and pass into the darkness, just like that fateful night I entered the Boundary.
XXVII.
Augustus 1
Year 242, A.H.
It’s strange how much power and liberty I had as an Archon beyond the Ring. Even with the incorrigible Archon Laurence in charge, I had the freedom to work at the time and in the manner I saw fit. But once I made the Passage back under the Gate and into the Aerie, the rigid rules of The Lex clamped down on me again, whether I’m Maiden or Archon. Now I am committing almost too many crimes to name. Hurrying across the Aerie town square to speak to a Boundary worker at the Clothing Keep becomes a matter of life or death. The Laurels and a Union. Or the gallows.
My heart pounds as I dart from one familiar doorway to another, ever watchful for movement in the moon shadows or the crunch of snow indicating a Guard’s step. The distance is short but seems endless as I creep toward the Clothing Keep. Once there, it’s so pitch-black that I find it difficult to locate the back entrance, the one I’m guessing is closer to Lukas’s quarters.
But I don’t have far to search. Lukas is waiting for me in the arched doorway. And as suspected, he’s furious. “You shouldn’t be here, Eva.” His hiss would surely be a holler if he could risk the volume.
“It’s nice to see you, too, Lukas.” I understand his anger, but now that I’m here safely, there’s no sense frittering away our time on rage.
“You promised me you would not come. You know how important you are—how I do everything I can to protect you. Why would you put yourself in danger like this?”
“Lukas, I had to find you. We found some things on the dig that only you can help me with.”
He shook his head. “It’s not worth risking your safety, Eva.”
“Lukas, I don’t think we have the luxury of time. Besides, nobody saw me.”
“Eva, don’t be naive. We don’t know who might be watching.”
“You’re being paranoid. I might be the first Maiden Archon, but I’m not all that interesting to the Aerie people except as an example to hold up to their daughters of a willful, non-Lexful Maiden.”
I’ve made him really angry. “Paranoid? I suppose that it’s paranoia that killed your brother. Have you forgotten what happened to Eamon?”
Now it’s my turn to fume. “How dare you! You know better than anyone that Eamon haunts my every thought and action. He is the reason I became an Archon, and he’s the reason I risk my life every day to find out the truth.”
Lukas deflates and reaches for my hand. “I’m sorry. I should never have said that. I just don’t think I could bear losing you after what happened to Eamon.”
My anger disappears, too. I clasp his callused fingers in mine. “I know. But I’m here now. Why waste what little time we have together fighting? Let’s use the bells we have to get some answers.”
He nods, but won’t meet my eyes. I hear such worry in his voice and fear he must know more than he’s saying. Maybe a threat more specific than “we don’t know who might be watching.” But I also know Lukas well enough to know that he won’t tell me no matter how hard I press.
“How is your leg?” he asks.
“My leg?” Instinctively I reach down to rub it. “How do you know about that? Some of the Climbers told you, yes? I knew they’d been sent—”
“No, no
,” he interrupts gently. “I heard about your wound from the Attendants in your home. This time I couldn’t arrange for anyone to be out there with you. Certainly not like those I had on your Testing dig.”
I straightened, confused. Had those sympathetic nods and glances I’d received been unprovoked? Or had I imagined them in my longing for Lukas? In my longing for safety? Most of all, however, I am shocked about this latest revelation. “You had others in place during the Testing besides your uncle?”
“Quite a few.”
A troubling thought occurs to me. “Did you arrange for me to win the Testing?”
Lukas stares at me. “No, Eva. Not at all. You are so important to all of us that we wanted to make sure you were safe. But the victory was yours alone. No one but you could have written that Chronicle. Believe me.”
I try to believe as he’s so often said before, but I wonder. I decide to squirrel away my questions and concerns and focus on what we might accomplish tonight. “Come on, Lukas. There’s some Tech I really need your help to analyze. Tech that came from the Genesis.”
His eyes continue to hold mine. And now, instead of anger or concern or withholding, all I see in their black depths is excitement. “The Genesis?”
“The very one,” I answer with a smile.
XXVIII.
Augustus 1
Year 242, A.H.
To make it safely to the outer walls of the Hall of Archons, I need only to follow in Lukas’s footsteps. Or so I tell myself. But it’s no easy task. His step is so light, and his senses so alert, it’s like following a hunting wolf. Still, somehow I manage, even when the Ring-Guards pass overhead.
Once we reach the impenetrable ice-fortress, though, our roles reverse. Now Lukas must rely on me. No matter how developed his senses and skills, the labyrinthine inner layout of the Hall combined with the absence of any exterior openings—save the immense front doors—make the Hall impossible to navigate. We are entirely reliant on my mental mapping and my knowledge of the Yard.
I smile to myself. A small part of me loves that the teacher is becoming the student. Even if it’s just for the night.
Lukas glances over at me, the question of how on His Earth we’ll enter clear on his face. I motion for him to throw a line over the lip of the exterior wall. He stares at me in disbelief, and I whisper that word he’s said to me countless times: “Believe.”
He really has no choice but to nod in begrudging agreement. Pulling out his atlatl, he shoots a line toward the frigid night sky. We can’t see it landing, but it must have sunk deep into the ice on his first shot, because the line is firm when we tug. We strap on our bear-claw boots and begin to climb.
Compared to other ascents we’ve practiced together, or those I undertook solo beyond the Ring, the distance is small. But the height makes the climb seem deceptively easy. The Archons had prepared for this potential breach of their fortress. The wall is slicker than any either Lukas or I have ever encountered. The Guards must water it each day and let it ice over each night to make it so slippery.
Footholds and handhelds are near impossible. Lukas keeps sliding back down onto me—I had assumed the lower position, as usual in our training—and I keep slipping back down the wall to the ground. We start and restart, ever mindful of the time and the Ring-Guards’ schedule, and the going is rougher than any I’ve experienced, even during the Testing over a bottomless crevasse.
Lukas pulls out a small device. It almost looks like the rakes used in the Ark to cultivate and tend the growing plants. He runs it up and down the wall as we go, roughening the texture. Anywhere else, on any other type of climb, this action would be absolutely prohibited. Loose ice is the death knell of the climber. Unfortunately, we have no choice. The wall is still slick, and we still slide into each other, but now we can make progress. When we finally make it to the top, Lukas and I reel in all evidence of our climb. Except the rake marks, that is.
Now I take over. In the days since we returned from the dig, I’ve mapped out the safest route to the Yard. I know that there might be traps of which I’m unaware, but I can’t think of that as I lead Lukas. There is no point fearing what I don’t know.
We traipse over surfaces that act as ceilings for the Conservation Chamber, the main Hall, the Refectory, even the Vault. I try to imitate Lukas’s silent, padded step, all the while praying to whatever Gods are out there that the Guards within the Hall hear nothing. I see the edge of the Wall bordering the Yard and turn back to Lukas with a smile.
Just in time to see him fall through the icy surface into the chamber below.
If I hadn’t seen him plummet, I would not have believed it. His drop was so quiet—no sound of ice shattering or cracking—that it must have been a trap of thin ice set by the Archons for an intruder. I race to the opening to see his dark shape lying on the floor below. I want to call out to see if he’s all right, but I can’t. Our only chance of survival is silence.
Instead of dropping the line over the wall bordering the Yard, I drop it just inside that same wall, near where he landed. I try to follow all of Lukas’s instructions, but I’m so eager to reach him that I rush. I slide down the line faster than intended and land with a thud.
By this time, Lukas is struggling to stand. I hurry to his side. “Are you hurt?” I whisper.
He brushes me away. “No, I’m fine.” Glancing around, he asks, “Does this mess us up?”
No Guards are in sight. I’ve been down here before; we’re in a hallway that leads to the Conservation Chamber. I shake my head. “We’re okay. Let’s go.”
After gathering up our gear, we pad down the hall. I take the lead. I’m following a map that exists only in my mind, and I’m doing it blind. But I get it right. After a few long ticks of slinking around, we stand at the entryway to the Conservation Chamber, precisely as I’d hoped. Ducking into the room, I dare to light my naneq. Bringing Lukas all this way won’t mean much if he can’t see the artifacts.
The silvery Tech glitters in the soft glow like gems. I turn to witness Lukas’s reaction.
His eyes are wide. “All this came from the Genesis?”
“I brought it here from the deck of the ship myself.”
“All this Tech?”
“All of it.”
Lukas starts laughing. It’s a low, guttural sound that I’ve never heard before. It sounds as if it’s coming from another person, not this serious and intense boy I’ve known my whole life. Then he lifts me up under my arms and twirls me around the room.
XXIX.
Augustus 1
Year 242, A.H.
Elation subsides and industry sets in. Lukas sets me to work setting up a strange light source that he’s brought with him. Using words from before the Healing that I only vaguely understand, Lukas tells me that in order to “start” the Tech, we need to “charge” them. Since we can’t give the Relics the power from Her Sun they usually require, Lukas has rigged up a substitute. But we won’t be certain of its efficacy until we see the Tech’s telltale flickering blue light.
As we wait, Lukas examines the Tech that’s not being “charged”; we can only attempt to power up two of the Relics at a time. I update him on my findings beyond the Ring: Madeline’s journal entries, the scratched-out Apple surface on the laptop, the proximity of the so-called first Lex to that Tech, and Madeline’s suspicions. The very moment he acknowledges that I was right to bring him here—a huge victory, though I try not to gloat—the room fills with a familiar bluish light.
The Tech is on. Lukas’s contraption works.
“Please start with the damaged one,” I implore him. Even if we never make it out of the Hall safely, I’ve got to see this one Relic’s secrets with my own eyes. I owe it to Madeline.
Lukas nods, then starts tapping away at the squares with letters inscribed upon them. He’s told me before to call them “keys,” but the word feels awkward on my tongue and in my mind. The squares don’t look like any key I’ve ever seen. I can’t make sense of what’s app
earing on the face of this Relic—what I used to think of as the diptych altar to the false God Apple—that I now know to call a “screen.” What was once sacred has become profane.
I draw closer as Lukas’s fingers clatter furiously. Row after row of numbers appears. Lukas seems mesmerized by them, but they’re nonsensical to me. Why is he spending so much time on this? We should be poring over the Tech for more critical information about the beginning of New North, the Founders, the Genesis, anything along the lines of Madeline’s suspicions. The Archon Guards are prowling. This strikes me as a waste of precious time; our luck is bound to run out.
But in a few ticks, I begin to see what he finds so fascinating.
The numbers are linked to various categories. And while the numbers don’t mean much to me, the categories certainly do. They are a list of the items on board the Genesis, and the numbers indicate the quantities of those items that the Genesis carried. The document is entitled “Manifest.”
Interesting that the Genesis was fully loaded with nearly everything necessary to sustain life. The hull contained seeds of every sort; multiple pairs of food-producing animals like cows, goats, chickens, and sheep; soil samples; water purification systems; fuel and energy sources; building materials; tools; bountiful quantities of wool, threads, and furs; basic hunting and fishing equipment; climbing gear; compasses and Arctic maps; and countless things I’ve never heard of.
How would the Founders have had the time to assemble this enormous array of items in the few bells they had between the onset of the Healing and the boarding of the Genesis? As described in the Lex history? Or is that a fiction, too?
Lukas points to an entry in the upper right corner of the screen. It’s tinier than the other entries, so I draw even closer to the Tech. “Do you see this?”
Boundary Page 10
