But I’m not sure I can give them what they want. I am the lone fraud.
TONIGHT IS THE NIGHT for which I’ve been waiting twenty-one days. The Moon has shown Herself in full for the first time since Lukas left. I finally have enough light to make my way to the secret opening in the Ring.
It seems that Lukas is right. The truth is worth the risk.
The past twenty-one days have been interminable. I thought that I’d acted at my life before—as a Maiden, a Testor, as a sister past her grief. But I really had no idea what it meant to play a role. Not until the tick I left Lukas on the turret with my Apple Relic and I was forced to pretend to be Eva the Archon, Eva the dutiful daughter, Eva the possible Betrothed. Even though absolutely everything had changed.
The days of so-called freedom before I enter my Archon training have become a prison. I must abide by the rules of my parents’ household, the directives of the Aerie society, and the edicts for Maidens before marriage. I must pretend I don’t question The Lex, my community, the very history of the Healing, the truth of my people.
During these long days, I learned that I’m not good at the charade. In my siniks beyond the Ring, I lost the knack for a double life. So aside from required public engagements, I took exile in this journal and the quiet places of the Aerie. I frequented the diptych in my bedroom and prayer nooks of the Basilika, and everyone acted as though I was purifying myself for the Archon training. It enabled me to avoid Jasper, too. It wasn’t simply that I can’t face the marriage plans. I’ve felt a connection I can’t even articulate with Jasper since that last sinik of the Testing. A Union could represent everything good about life in the Aerie. He’s been so supportive since our return, appearing at my side at public events and meals and ceremonies. But I would be unable to hide this change in myself from him for very long.
Even now I feel torn. Yet I know what I must do, even though it means I must leave behind all that I’ve known and loved. I tell myself I have no choice.
After Evensong bell, I retire to my bedroom, allowing Katja to disrobe me and bundle me into my bedclothes like a baby. The very tick she closes the door behind her, I slide out of bed and into my Testor uniform. I will need its warmth as I cross over into the Boundary lands.
Creaking my bedroom door open as slowly as I dare, I pad down the corridor in my kamiks. I’ve already prepared an excuse should I get caught—I’m mourning Eamon out here on the turret, in our old place—but no one appears as I mount the icy stairs. Reaching into my Testor pack, I pull out an ice screw and carefully twist it into a crevice between the turret tower stones. Once it’s secure, I feed the line through the harness I’m wearing under my sealskin cloak and back into the hole. Then I throw the line over the turret wall and belay down.
It’s surprisingly easy. As if I was born for this task.
Mapping out the shadows of Her Moonlight across the Aerie, I dart from one darkened corner to the next. Not a soul appears from a home or Keep or town building, not even a Guard. The Aerie is asleep, it seems. Or following The Lex, at least.
In two bells, I reach the base of the Ring. I still need to skirt a very exposed expanse of ice and snow to reach the tiny gap in the Ring that Lukas described. As I wait and watch for the Guards patrolling the rim of the Ring to pass, I realize this is the spot where Eamon fell to his death. I imagine that I can see the smear of blood that for so long stained this section of the Ring, although I know it’s been washed away.
I stop. I’m not certain I can press forward. Can I really I pass directly under the place where my brother died? How can I not, after coming so far? As I debate, the shadow of a single Guard appears over the flat white surface of the Ring wall. After his lamplight flickers by, I steel myself and make a run for it.
I count off the ticks necessary to reach the gap—ticks that Lukas painstakingly described—but I don’t see the opening. Could I have passed it? I retrace my steps, but I still can’t find it. I start to panic, and consider returning home, when I see a black fissure in the Ring’s wall of ice. I’d discounted it initially because it resembles nothing more than a springtime ice crack. But when I squint more closely, it seems wide enough to squeeze through. Lukas had mentioned that the aperture was narrow, but this is dangerously so. Pushing myself along, the gap compresses even farther. It’s tight against my chest, and I’m left gasping for air. Any sane person would abandon the attempt as futile. Maybe that’s how the Boundary people have protected this pass for so long.
Without warning, the gap opens. There, in a sizable subterranean cave in the base of the Ring, stands Lukas. Broad shoulders and black hair—but stronger and more substantial than he ever seemed in the Aerie. He has waited for me.
XLI: Maius 20 Year 242, A.H.
Without a single word, Lukas takes me by the hand, and we start running. It is pitch black except for Lukas’s naneq and the jerky light and shadows we cast. I should be scared, but I’m not. Finally, I feel free.
The way is long and twisted; we follow a sinuous and interminable path through the Ring instead of over it. I should tire, but I don’t. I feel like I could run forever—until, quite suddenly, the path ends.
This strange tunnel, bored into the Ring at what price I cannot guess, stops mid-air. Lukas and I stand on the edge of a precipice. If it weren’t for Lukas’s steadying hand, I would have tumbled straight down the face of the cliff. Like my brother.
Down we must climb. I reach for my Testor pack, but gear isn’t necessary. Lukas motions toward the handholds and footholds that have been dug into the frozen wall. Following his lead, I scramble downward and into the Boundary lands.
It looks nothing like I’d been told. Nestled in an outcrop of the Ring, it appears almost cozy. Snug little homes of ice and stone and wood tuck into the Ring wall and into each other, for maximum protection from the biting winds. Little roads connect the numerous structures, and a small town square—not unlike that of the Aerie, except in size—sits at the center.
I realize I never passed the Boundary lands in the Testing, except for the few small huts near the Gate. Those tiny hovels—unkempt, almost tumble-down in appearance—don’t resemble this tidy little town at all. They bear the desperate, uncivilized look of the Boundary lands depicted in School-books, created by a people incapable of ruling themselves. A very basic people in need of the Aerie protection and help. I can’t help but wonder if maybe those poor huts had been intentionally built near the Gate to foster that exact view. I wonder if anyone lives in them at all.
Lukas makes no effort to hide our approach. His naneq swings at his side, casting light in wide arcs. “Aren’t you worried someone will see me?” I whisper.
“No, not now that we’ve made it. Guards never come to this side of the Ring. And no Boundary person would ever tell the Guards or anyone in the Aerie that you’re here.”
“Even though I’m breaking The Lex?”
“Eva, we don’t follow The Lex in the Boundary lands.”
I stop walking and stare at him. “You don’t?”
He flashes a smile that almost seems pitying. “The Aerie people have to let us live this way, Eva. Free to do as we please. Don’t forget—our Hunters and Fishermen supply all the food for the Aerie outside what you grow in the Ark.”