Ian turns back to us. “The Gods saw fit to return these fine young Testors to us. They placed themselves in the gravest of dangers for our benefit, to become Archons. We of New North need Archons to show us the perils of our ways before the Healing. Together and again, we reject the worship of the false god Apple. We reject his Tylenols and Cokes and MasterCards. We reject all the Relics the Testors have discovered and have yet to discover. Those standing before us have unearthed from the ice Relics unseen since the days of the Healing—Relics that will show us the rightness of New North’s ways. And they have created Chronicles about their Relics that sanctify the ways of The Lex.”
We stand.
The Chief Archon—my father—takes center stage. It is his turn to speak.
He nods at Ian, and begins. “This year, our Testors discovered some of the finest—and rarest—Relics in our history. As many of you know from our town square Gatherings, they have unearthed unnatural remedies, Earth-damaging engines, vile weapons, and even a small worship tablet to the false god Apple—one that ruled mankind’s lives in the final pre-Healing days. And as you all know from the Gatherings, some of our Testors have fashioned very powerful Chronicles for their Relics. We will celebrate each Testor singularly.”
My father’s voice simultaneously soothes and terrifies. I love hearing his familiar tones again—after so long beyond the Ring—but I dread what he might say next. He’s made no mention of the heresy of my Chronicle. Not yet, anyway. Will he dole out my judgment when my name is called in turn? This waiting is cruel punishment in and of itself. Especially if my father must dispense it.
My father calls out each Testor. I stand, my legs quaking, as each of the other nine remaining Testors listens to a description of their Relics and a summary of their Chronicle. We hear about Jacques’ box of remedies; the silver-foiled foodstuffs found by Benedict, Petr, and Thurstan; William’s metallic nets; the guns unearthed by Aleksander and Neils; and Knud’s modest cache of fishing lures. And of course, Jasper’s Apple Relic which receives the most applause.
What about me? My mouth moves in silent prayers to the Gods. The Sun especially, for She is known for Her mercy.
The Chronicles are not re-read in full as most people do not need to hear them again. If I wasn’t so scared, I would’ve wanted to hear every word, to see how the other Testors’ histories compare to my own. How my Relics and Chronicle stack up against the others. But I have bigger concerns than winning now. I am last. It seems forever until I am called.
“Testor Eva, please come forward.”
A murmuring in the crowd surges until it becomes nearly a roar. The sound unnerves me, as I pad across the stage in my threadbare kamiks. My father has to steady me when I take my place at his side. For a brief tick, his hands touch my pack, and I flinch, thinking of its secrets: the amulet and altar. I can only imagine the reaction when I’m passed to the Guards for punishment and they find my contraband.
He gives me the tiniest of smiles, undetectable by the rest of New North I’m sure. Then the Chief Archon mask descends, and his voice booms across the town square. “Testor Eva, you made a prodigious find.”
A prodigious find. That doesn’t sound like a damning judgment. Not yet. I hold my breath.
“You found a pink pack full of Relics evidencing the sad depravity of the pre-Healing lifestyle.” He lists the items in Elizabet’s pack. They sound soulless when described in his ritual tone; I hear none of the life I found sparking within them.
He continues. “But your Chronicle of those Relics proved to be, well, more powerful than the Relics alone. If you had been standing on this stage when your Chronicle was read aloud, you would have heard nothing but silence.”
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.”
XXXV: Aprilus 28 Year 242, A.H.
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.