Thank the Gods I know the crevasse so well I can belay down with my eyes closed. Which is what I do. Fighting off my instinct to focus my vision—a futile task, anyway—I let my hands and feet guide the way down to my Claim. Within a few ticks, I’ve found my Claim stakes, still lodged in the ice wall. Only then do my eyelids flutter open.
Reaching for the naneq still hanging from a stake, I light it. I spot the hollow where I found Elizabet’s pink pack. I run my gloved hand along the groove where I prised her belongings from the ice, and whisper the words of goodbye.
“Vale in aeternam, Elizabet.”
The ice feels softer than I remember, probably from the warming spring air. My glove catches on a tiny fissure in the hollow’s ice wall, one I don’t recall seeing before. Maybe it surfaced as the upper layers melted. As I try to pull my glove out of the stubborn crack, I think I see a glint of metal. But this ice wall has played so many tricks on me over the past siniks, I’ve learned not to trust it.
The fissure won’t let go, and it’s getting darker by the tick. It almost feels like someone’s gripping my hand. Even though we’re not supposed to touch the Testing Site now that it’s closed, I really have no choice but to grab a small pick out of my pack with my free hand and work away at the ice that has seized my glove. After I hack away, the cloth finally comes loose. I breath a huge sigh of relief; having made it this far, I certainly don’t want to die on my final sinik of the Testing.
I’m about to start my climb back up, when that glimmer catches my eye again. I know I should ignore it, but I can’t.
Crawling across to the spot, I hold my naneq close to the disrupted ice. I don’t even need to grab a tool to dislodge the object. I can see it plain as day. My heart seizes. It’s an Apple amulet. But there’s more. It’s hangs around the neck of a skeleton.
Is it Elizabet? Deep within myself, I know it is. It’s too close to her precious pink pack to be anyone else. I start to cry again. What in the Gods should I do? This isn’t just a skeleton; this is my Elizabet.
I scrape away the final layer of ice and caress her bony cheek. Poor, poor Elizabet, I can’t leave her down here. I can’t abandon her. But there’s no way I can get her body out of the crevasse by myself. And since The Lex says once the Site is closed no Testors are allowed in and no one can remove Relics, how am I supposed to remove her from this icy grave? I can’t.
Damn The Lex. I’m going to have to leave her here. Then it occurs to me. I don’t have to leave all of her here, do I?
I grab my pick again, and remove the thin, wet layer of ice covering poor Elizabet’s body. Touching her skeletal face gently, I unhook the Apple amulet off of her neck and slide it into my pack. Even if no one ever sees the amulet but me—only the Gods know what would happen to me if anyone found out I’d been here after the Site closure—I’ll have this to remember her always.
With the outer layer of ice gone, I can see more. Elizabet has a flat, metal object folded into her arms. Holding the naneq a little closer, I realize just what it is. A diptych altar to Apple. The one Relic above all others. Last found one hundred and fifty years ago. The Pre-Healing people stared at its blank, glass surface as they worshipped. As they prayed in desperation. Hoping that Apple will give them some message, some sign.
Pushing aside my fear—this belonged to my Elizabet, after all—I wrest it from her bony arms as gently as I can. Too scared to do much more than slide it in my pack, I tell myself I’ll look at it later. In the safety of my igloo. For now, I’ve got to get out of the crevasse before the blackness of night falls on me.
“Goodbye, Elizabet,” I say, with a final touch on her cheek.
Her eyes can no longer see, but I feel her Spirit everywhere, watching me.
I scuttle back over to the base of my rope, hurl my large pick into the ice above my head, and dig my bear-claw boots into the wall-face. But I feel the rope begin to slip. The ice screw holding my line into place on the surface has lost its grip in the melting snow. I have only a tick before it’s too late. Grabbing my ulu out of my belt, I unhook myself from my harness and sever the line before it falls into the bottomless crevasse, taking me along with it. The line and ice screw fly past me. In sick fascination, I watch and wait for the sound of them hitting bottom. No noise ever comes.
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.
XXXII: Aprilus 24 Year 242, A.H.
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?”