Relic (The Books of Eva I) (2 page)

Eamon, my twin. I can barely even think his name. I’m not ready yet, but I have no choice.

Lifting up my heavy fur cloak and my long Feast-day skirts, I step up onto the ledge of the turret. I’ve been up here hundreds of times before with Eamon—the turret was our special place—but it takes me a tick to get my footing.
My delicate ceremonial shoes don’t have the same grip as my
kamiks
.

I steady myself, and try to relax. My breath forms an icy cloud in the encroaching polar darkness, and I start to shiver. Not just from the cold. Fear of getting caught out here has got me shaking. The punishment for disobeying The Lex by being here after the None Bell—especially tonight, on the Feast of the Testing—is severe.

But here I stand. I must.

The Moon is generous with Her light, and I can see clearly. The glistening Aerie spreads out before me, like a diamond encircled by the mountainous icy Ring. The Aerie fortress of ice and stone is the place where all the Founding Families live and work and learn and worship. It is home.

I stare out at the frozen land. Just over the turret’s edge, I see the ice walls of the School with its fancifully carved ice windows gleaming in the low moonlight. I spot the imposing ice-spires of the Basilika, the place for worship and instruction on The Lex. Only a glimpse of the Ark in the far distance coaxes a brief, sad smile. The only metal and glass structure in New North, the Ark is our most precious place, where most of the island’s food is grown. Within its warm, humid walls, I had hoped to find my calling.

No more. The innocent Maiden who longed for a peaceful life in the Ark is gone. She died on the Ring with Eamon, and she became someone else. Sometimes I don’t recognize the determined girl who replaced her, the one who insists on pursuing her dead brother’s dreams of Testing. And neither do my poor parents. It’s a cruel trick to play on my father, who is meant to be celebrating his final year as Chief Archon. He’s not meant to be mourning his son and lamenting his daughter’s choices.

I take a deep breath and force myself to take another glimpse at the Ring. I can make out the place from which Eamon fell. It looks oddly beautiful in the pale blue moonlight, not murderous. I stretch out my hands toward it. Then I close my eyes for a brief tick, hoping to imprint the image on my mind forever. As if I could take Eamon with me in the Testing tomorrow.

“Eva! Get down from there!”

Lukas
. I don’t need to turn to recognize the voice. Before Eamon’s death, we three were close friends, despite the fact that Lukas served as Eamon’s Boundary Companion. Since Eamon’s death, I’ve spent most of the past few months training for the Testing with Lukas. But it isn’t Lukas’s words that scare me; it’s his tone. I hear fear, and he is always calm.

“Eva, get down now! That snow is
quiasuqaq
. One more step and you’ll fall.”

I cannot move. Lukas knows snow better than anyone. If it is truly
quiasuqaq
, then even the smallest false move will send me sliding off the ledge and flying hundreds of feet down. Just like Eamon.

“Stay still,” he orders.

I hear his footsteps running across the turret. His hand clamps down on my arm and pulls me down toward him. We fall backward on top of each other, both of us breathing heavily. I struggle out of his bear-like grip and turn around.

I look into his dark, almond-shaped eyes. “I just wanted—”

“I know what you wanted, Eva. To be close to Eamon.”

He alone understands what Eamon’s death has done to me. And I think I know what Eamon’s death has done to Lukas. Even though we never speak of it. Even though I pretend for everyone else.

“Yes,” I answer.

“You know, Eva, you don’t have to scale turret walls or Test to be close to him. Eamon will always be with you. His spirit is
anirniq
. Or
animus
, as you Aerie say.”

His words cut through me. I swallow, my eyes stinging. I won’t sob. I’ve spent the past few months trying so hard to be strong, trying to push down the desperate sadness I feel at Eamon’s death, trying to prove I can fulfill his Testing dream for him. Lukas’s words nearly bring me to the brink. I can’t have that. So I stand up, brush the snow off my gown, and grasp onto the least sad thing I can think of.

“Let me guess, my mother sent you up here to fetch me for the Feast. I can almost hear her.” I raise my voice in a loud whisper, an affectation my mother assumes to sound like the ideal Lex Lady. “ ‘How dare Eva break The Lex tonight? After all she’s done to embarrass this family! And in her father’s last Feast of the Testing as Chief Archon!’ ”

Lukas chuckles a little, indulging me. “No, she didn’t order me up here. I volunteered for the job.”

“No one else was up for the task of the turret at night?”

“Fair enough.” His laughter fades, but his smile holds. “We should go down. They’re all waiting for you to begin the Feast of the Testing. Maiden of the bell.”

I smile back at him. It feels good to have him teasing me again. Since Eamon’s death, he’s been so formal, as if he could avoid the truth by respecting the frozen barriers that are supposed to exist between us.

He offers me his arm. I gather the long folds of my cloak and gown and take a firm hold of his elbow. I look up at him. Despite his dark hair and eyes; flat, high-cheekboned face; and vast height and breadth—none of which fit the
Aerie model for handsomeness—he’s somehow attractive. Not that I’d ever think of him that way.

He places his other hand over mine. Together, down the precipitous, winding stairs, we descend.

The moment we enter the solar great room, Lukas drops my arm. He disappears into the busy hive of dark-haired, dark-eyed Boundary Attendants lining the wall or scurrying in and out of the kitchen. I must face the room by myself.

The hearth-fire is almost too much for me to bear after the icy night air. My family and friends stand before it, warming their hands close to its orange-red flames. In the flickering light of the dozens of lamps and candles, I can see they are all wearing their Feast finery—dark gowns and tunics, heavily embroidered as The Lex requires, somber against the vibrant flames.

For a brief, blissful tick, no one realizes that I’ve returned. I feel an urge to flee back out into the pure, white cold. Back
to my solitude. Back to Eamon. But then my mother looks up from the blaze. I freeze in my tracks, feeling icier than I’d felt up on the turret. I know that expression. She may appear the perfect Lady with her gentle smile and elegantly outstretched hand, but I know anger seethes beneath—anger that will manifest in ever more restrictions for me.

Somehow, I must repress the girl from the turret. For the benefit of my parents and our guests, I must become, once again, the Lex-abiding Maiden I used to be. I think on the admonitions for Maidens:
be ever pleasing to the eye and ear
. I paint a smile on my face and demurely lower my gaze.

“Eva, my darling. An Attendant has been out searching for you. Our friends are here with blessings for tomorrow. But there was no Eva to bless!” My mother adds a laugh as she picks at the embroidered sleeve of her gown. I know that I should’ve been here, waiting for Jasper and his family to arrive, as well as respecting my own relatives. What excuse would a Maiden offer? I stammer a bit, trying to think of the perfect answer. One befitting my station. One acceptable to my mother.

Jasper comes to my rescue. Ever the Gallant. Faultless in his brown tunic, trousers, and fur mantle, he rushes to my side with an easy laugh. With his fair Nordic looks, it’s hard for me to imagine that one day our parents’ shared dream of a Union might actually come true. He seems too perfect. Although, of course, the decision about a Union belongs to our parents and the Triad.

“Were you hiding on the turret, Eva? You naughty Maiden! I can’t believe you forced poor Lukas out onto those slick stairs on a frigid night.”

Jasper says it in jest, not realizing the truth of his words. The tension breaks, and our guests break into smiles and
chuckles. Jasper always knows the right thing to say, especially in front of my mother. I’m thankful for it, but worried Lukas has heard Jasper talking about him that way. I scan the row of Attendants for sign of him, but then I catch my mother standing with her mouth agape. She realizes that I
was
actually on the turret, even though The Lex mandates that Maidens must be indoors after the None Bell for their protection. I brace myself for her reaction.

“The turret?” My mother’s voice slips into Lady-pitch, as if her high whisper with its perfect adherence to The Lex somehow makes up for my recent lapses. I wish she’d relax her standards and leave me alone for just one night, or at least not publicly hint at her complaints. It’s humiliating. But no matter how furious she is with me for my errors, she’s careful not to accuse me; she has worked too hard to mar the image of our Lex-perfect family now. Even Eamon’s death hasn’t shaken her resolve.

To my great surprise, my father answers for me. “Eva will be Testing in the days to come, Margret. I don’t think we should worry about The Lex tonight.”

“But Jon …” Her voice has that Lady-pitch again.

My father is insistent. “No more, Margret. Tonight is the Feast of the Testing. I am Chief Archon. And we have a Testor in our family.”

My mother quiets; she has no choice. The Lex clearly states that a wife follows her husband’s commands. That goes triply for the wife of a Triad Chief.

My father gestures to an Attendant along the wall to bring forth a tray of goblets. It’s my own Boundary Companion, Katja. Once each guest and family member has received the mead from Katja’s tray, my father raises his own goblet.

I look around at the circle of extended family, mine and Jasper’s, all with their cups lifted high.

To the left is my mother’s family—her sister, husband, and two children, and her brother and his wife—so distinctive with their white-blonde Nordic hair and pale blue eyes. In my mother’s mind, their pure Nordic blood almost makes up for the fact that her brother and sister aren’t Lord and Lady, but mere Gentleman and Gentlewoman. Neither is a Keeper or married to one; neither was as shrewd as my mother, or lucky enough; her brother is just a Steward to another Keep and her sister married a Steward as well. To the right stands my dad’s family—his brother, his brother’s wife, and their young son—so like my dad with the inky hair, pale skin, and narrow eyes of the Russian people. Still, my mother affords them the respect they deserve, as my father’s brother is a Keeper. Only the Triad of New North leaders—the Lexors, Archons, and Basilikons—rank higher than Keepers. And the Three Chiefs rank highest of them all during their terms of service.

With our auburn hair and green-blue eyes, Eamon and I used to tease each other that we belonged to another family, maybe even random Boundary parents. My mother couldn’t tolerate jokes that we might come from any stock other than pure Founding; after insisting that we were a throwback to a rarer bloodline, she’d banish us to our bedrooms for nasty talk.

Scattered throughout the group are Jasper’s family: his parents, his sister, and an uncle with his wife. They are a more mixed group than mine with a strong North American streak, but still pure Founding stock all, and not only Keepers in their mix but a Chief Lexor too, Jasper’s uncle Ian, and his wife. Even though the circle consists
of eighteen people, it seems small and incomplete without Eamon. Especially since Jasper was always Eamon’s friend, not mine.

I hold my breath. I can’t imagine what my father will say.

“In the morning, the Testing begins. Our children, Eva and Jasper, will be among the Testors. The competition will demand much, more than we have already sacrificed.” My father pauses uncharacteristically—he’s usually so comfortable and smooth in his speeches—and the room is absolutely still. Everyone understands exactly what he means by that sacrifice.

His voice takes on a commanding Chief Archon tone, the one I’ve heard so many times in the Aerie town square. Suddenly, he sounds like he’s giving a speech to New North instead of initiating the Feast of the Testing. It seems out-of-place at first, but then I realize that he might break down over Eamon if he doesn’t act the Chief Archon instead of a father. This Feast was always meant for Eamon. Not me. And the Feast was meant to secure the Gods’ blessings that Eamon return not only with the Archon Laurels, but also with a Chronicle worthy of the Chief Archon position when my father’s term ends later this year.

My father incants the ritual language. I’ve heard this every year of my life, but never in the context of my own participation. The words are as familiar to me as my own name. “The Lex says that, on the night of the Feast of the Testing, we shall tell our children that we Test because of what the Gods did for us when we survived the Healing. Over two hundred years ago, the Healing washed over the Earth, leaving only the Gods’ chosen people alive. The Gods—our mother, the Sun, and our father, the Earth—delivered us to New North, the Gods’ chosen land. The Gods gave us a final chance to
redeem mankind’s evil by living in accordance with their Word—as written down in The Praebulum and The Lex.