Boundary

by Heather Terrell

  It’s Madeline’s journal.

  I’m furious with myself. How could I have been so simple-minded as to keep Madeline’s journal under my tunic all night? Why didn’t I just excuse myself at dinner and hide it somewhere in my room? But I know the answer. I had no idea I’d be in such close proximity with anyone before I retired.

  “What have you got hiding under there, Eva?” Jasper’s tone is playful, even flirtatious.

  I figure playing along is my best gambit. “Just a book where I write down my thoughts.”

  He draws closer to me again. “What thoughts?”

  “Maidenly thoughts.” I answer in my best impression of Maidenly coquettishness.

  “Not Archon thoughts?” He draws even closer. So close I can feel his warm breath on my cheeks.

  “Not a single one.”

  He wraps his arms around me again. “Any thoughts about me?”

  “Maybe,” I whisper, and allow myself to be enveloped by his strong arms. He smells good, like evergreens and a roaring fire and something else. Something exclusively Jasper. His hands travel down my back slowly, and I shiver. For a tick, I forget that I’m pretending.

  His hands slide under my tunic—an unimaginable, yet delicious, violation of The Lex—then he grabs the book. He’s smiling playfully as if this is some Gallant-Maiden game, yet the action is so unlike Jasper that I am unprepared. I lunge for the book, but he’s too quick. He’s halfway across the room and flipping through the book before I catch up with him.

  The smile vanishes. He stops flipping. “Why did you lie to me, Eva?”

  “What do you mean?” I know what he means, but I’m buying time. The story I offered became unbelievable the moment he saw the obviously worn pages, but how can I explain what the book is without explaining how I came by it?

  I reach for the journal, and he doesn’t resist when I take it from his hands. His brows furrow in confusion and disappointment. “Eva, I saw the date on those pages. That book was written in year 98, after the Healing. It’s no journal of yours.”

  “I’m sorry, Jasper.” And I am. I don’t to want pull him into my double life—I’ve already exposed him to so much—but what are my choices? “I was scared to tell you the truth.”

  His eyes narrow, and his jaw clenches. He asks a question much bigger than he could possibly know. “What is the truth, Eva?”

  “It’s the journal of the first female Testor, Madeline.”

  “Madeline? The one you used in your Lex arguments to be allowed to Test?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you come by this?”

  “From the Archon Hall,” I say, as if this could explain my possession.

  “I wouldn’t think that such a precious, delicate document would be allowed to leave the Hall of Archons. Or the Library.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “Is that why it’s under your tunic?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because you took it.”

  “Yes. Although they don’t realize that it’s Madeline’s journal.”

  He winces. “You took it without permission.”

  “Yes.” No sense mincing words.

  He steps away from me. “I can’t believe you stole this. You could end up in shackles or worse. The Gallows have been used for far less serious Lex violations.”

  “I know.”

  “Why did you take such a risk? You worked so hard to become an Archon. To fulfill Eamon’s dream for him. How many times did I hear you say that? Why in the Gods would you endanger that victory now?”

  Should I chance another lie and tell him that I felt compelled to steal the journal because Madeline is my spirit-mate? From my references to her in my sessions with the Lexors, he knows how I treasure her history and her legacy. He might believe me. But Jasper deserves better. And I’m so sick of lying to everyone. Everyone except Lukas.

  “Do you remember the conversation we had next to the fire the night before we came back from the Testing?”

  “Yes.” That night we shared with each other our darkest thoughts about The Lex and the Testing and New North. It was the first night I thought that maybe I could enter a Union with him. Not just because everyone else wanted it to happen. Because I could talk to him more honestly than anyone except Lukas.

  “I’ve only had a chance to skim over a few pages, but I think Madeline might have felt the way we feel. I think she might have known something about the creation of The Lex. The creation of New North, even. I felt duty bound to take the journal and follow up on some of her concerns.”

  His face softens, but he doesn’t move closer to me. “Why would you be scared to tell me that, Eva? You know I share your doubts. Anyway, as your Betrothed, I promise that you can trust me with any of your truths.”

  “Really?” I ask. How I wish it could be true. But if Jasper actually knew the nature of all my truths, I don’t think he’d make such promises. He might not even want a Union.

  “Really.”

  I walk closer to him. Taking a most unMaidenly step, I wrap my arms around him. I will try to trust him, but I’ll need to be careful. I can’t endanger him. I need him on my side. “I will never doubt you again,” I say.

  He leans toward me, and I allow my lips to touch his.

  XII.

  Julius 7

  Year 242, A.H.

  This leave-taking is so different than the last. No throngs of Aerie and Boundary gather round the Gate to say farewell: just a phalanx of Archons, Scouts, Boundary Climbers, and Attendants—and, of course, our huskies. No tearful hugs from family members, or calls of luck from neighbors and friends, or long embraces from a Betrothed. No pageantry like the Testing, just a smudge of black heading into the immense whiteness.

  We start on a route different than that of the Testing, one that bears none of the challenges, either. Seeming to sense my uncertainties, Archon Theo calls, “We save all the danger for the dig,” but I’m not appeased; all I can see is a well-worn groove in the ice that serves as a road. No sudden dips, no change from pack ice to quiasuqaq, no unexpected crevasses. No dangerous wilds from the tales told by Schoolteachers to their students. Just a pathway traveled by Archons for centuries.

  Laurence leads our group. Six Archons, twelve Scouts, and twenty-four Boundary folk, these latter charged with the heaviest loads. Theo was probably more shocked than our fellow Archons to be included in this expedition; his presence must have something to do with mine. Did my father command Theo to accompany us? He didn’t tell me, and as Chief Archon, he is somehow more distant than ever. More proof that I cannot have an answer to things at which I can only guess. I must focus on what I can know.

  With our huskies, we will be a team of forty-two, charged with excavating one of the most precious sites in all of New North. On all of His Earth. No one says it, but the anticipation is heavy in the air. Frozen, like icicles.

  The morning is bright and clear, and instead of sinking into my dark thoughts, I try to relax into the rhythm of the ride. My dogs are delighted to be free from the Aerie walls, and I concentrate on their joyousness. Certainly I’m happy to be reunited with Indica, Johan, James, Singerneq, Rasmus, Pierre, and Akim after so many days confined to the Archon Hall. But I miss Sigurd, my lone female, the one who died on the Testing journey. The team seems incomplete without her.

  I miss Jasper out here as well. The last time I ventured beyond the Ring, Jasper rode alongside me …

  I draw in a sharp breath. I am lying to myself. I’d ventured out beyond the Ring since the Testing—with Lukas. But I cannot linger on that memory, not here.

  The landscape looks different than any I’ve seen. The warmer weather of summer melts the glaciers surrounding us, creating waterfalls in the crevices between them. These rushing, sparkling stripes seem numerous, but I’ve seen no other summer season outside the Aerie with which to compare them. The evergreens, plentiful and bright green against the white-grey of the icescape, jut out toward Her Sun. Birds chirp from nests within.


  To my great surprise, we reach the Frozen Shores long before the Sun begins Her descent.

  The journey is so brief that I realize the Site must sit at the Shore point closest to the Aerie. Interesting. Although I’d spent weeks mapping and gridding the Site—and obviously saw the Site’s proximity to my home—I’d never thought of the true distance before. If the Site indeed contains one of the Founders’ ships, the journey by the Founders to the Aerie would have been short. As short as Madeline’s journey should have been in her Testing.

  All at once, I am angry. The truth confirms my doubts about the necessity of the Testing hardship. I suspect the sacrifices were empty—those of every Testor, including me and Madeline. I grow more furious thinking about the descriptions in Madeline’s journal of her Testing—the long, hungry, freezing siniks, the Testor injuries and deaths. All for nothing. Jasper would be horrified to learn this, too, though we had suspected as much during our short trip to the Aerie at the end of the Testing.

  I look for the signal from Archon Laurence to make camp, but he doesn’t give it.

  While I wait, I dismount briefly to rub down my tired dogs. We’ve traveled a much smaller distance than I thought we would, but the dogs are tired. I reach into my pack for some oil to massage their feet and triceps and biceps where their harnesses chafe them. Then I throw them some dried meat.

  Still Laurence doesn’t give the signal. He gathers two of the other Archons to his side, and they nod while Laurence gesticulates. His wild movements show anger. But instead of worrying about what in the Gods they’re discussing, I stare out at the Frozen Seas. We are so close to the edge of the Frozen Shores that I can see where the coast meets the sea.

  The water is clear, cerulean blue, except where the blue-green of the shoreline’s glacial runoff meets the sea. Hundreds of small icebergs bob playfully in the seawaters, while an enormous one lurks nearby like a protective mother. Sea lions and their pups sun themselves in Her rays on the flat tops of these icy masses, each one a different shade of blue—silver, sky, stone, or aqua—depending on the concentration of ice.

  Despite everything I’ve suffered to get here, I feel lucky to have the privilege to gaze upon this beautiful sight with my own eyes. Even though we live on an island, very few non-Boundary people in New North have actually seen the sea. Only Archons and those Testors who vied for the Laurels, like Jasper, have witnessed firsthand the waters that changed our world.

  Laurence waves the two Archons away and motions instead for Theo to come over and study the document he’s pulled from his bag. The two men appear to argue until Theo crooks his finger for me to join them. My heart starts beating fast, even though I’ve been motionless for long ticks.

  I hitch my dog team to an icy outcropping and walk to Theo’s side. I stay close to him, as if his girth could shelter me from the wrath brewing within Laurence.

  Laurence brings his face—ice-crusted beard and all—close to mine. His breath smells of dried fish, and his voice brims with anger. “Exactly where would you recommend we dig, Archon Eva?” He spits out my name as if it’s a curse and stabs his gloved finger on the red circle at the center of the map in his other hand. My map and my red circle, the one over which I labored. “The designated Site on your precious map sits on an empty ice-field. Not on the crevasse we expected to be here.”

  I glance down at the map and then stare out at the ice-field.

  This Site hasn’t been excavated—or possibly even properly gridded—in over a century; of course, the icescape has changed. Still, studying the Site, I can’t help but smile. So many of the Aerie are so blind. Maybe it’s their lack of language that hinders their sight. I mean, can you really understand all the types of snow and ice if you don’t have a name for each, as do the Boundary?

  “Why in the Gods are you smiling, Archon Eva? It’s no laughing matter to drag a team of forty-two out to an empty Site.”

  The smile disappears from my lips. My heart beats even faster, and my stomach churns. I decide that if Laurence senses my fear, he will win the battle he’s staging against me. I’ve worked too hard in my brother’s name to stumble so easily, so I square my shoulders and look straight into the Archon’s ice-crusted face. “This ice-field isn’t as empty as you think.” I stretch out my hand. “May I have the map, Archon Laurence?”

  He opens his mouth wide as if to scream, then snaps it shut and shoves the map into my hand. “Very well. Go dig your own icy grave.”

  Map in hand, all eyes on me, I walk the circle I etched. I note the change in the color and depth and texture of the ice, as Lukas taught me over and over how to do during my Testing training. I think over Madeline’s detailed descriptions in the journal I stole. I squat over a particularly blue stretch, take off my gloves, run my hands along the snow, close my eyes, and then stand up.

  “Right here. This is where we should dig,” I say as I put my gloves back on.

  Silence. Raised eyebrows. And a lone chortle. That’s all the response I get. I know what they’re waiting for: Laurence’s judgment.

  After a long, long tick, he strides over to me, crosses his arms, and booms, “You are certain this is the spot?” The question isn’t for me; it’s for everyone else.

  I hold my ground. “Yes.”

  “Are you willing to bet your Archon Laurels?”

  He’s going to make me risk everything. What are my choices? It would come to this sooner or later.

  “Yes,” I repeat. “This is where you’ll find the ship.”

  The team is still; we all await Archon Laurence’s reaction. Will he act on my pronouncement, or will he punish me for my audacity? The ticks seem long, and the words from the first page of Madeline’s journal pass through my mind. They are fitting.

  Journal of Madeline

  Aprilus 7 Year 98, A.H.

  The Archons were right to focus on the discipline of our minds during training for the Testing. If they had not—if I had let my mind soften like so many Gallants and Maidens who live only within the comfort and protective embrace of the Aerie—I would not have survived this Tundra of treeless, foodless, freezing, barren ice flats. I would have turned my dog team around and headed home. Or I would have succumbed to the icy fingers of death.

  But I prevail. I am now four days into the blinding white of Mother Sun’s reflected rays. I am also three days into utter solitude without a single sighting of a fellow Testor and two days past food, for I am ungifted at hunting. What remains of my dried food stores I must give to my huskies, for without them I will certainly die.

  To turn my thoughts away from the sharp pains of hunger stabbing my gut and the gnawing worry eating away my mind, I conjure up the Archons’ teaching. Pray to Father Earth, as they instructed us. Over and over and over. Pray that He spares me, as He spared my people …

  At last, I reach the Testing Site. I see that the arduous journey was necessary. It purified my spirit for the sacred task of excavation. Fasting, suffering, praying, The Lex says these are necessary for the purification of our spirits, and what is the Testing but fasting, suffering, and praying?

  I pray that my spirit is cleansed of the defilement of Apple and his minions, such that the Gods deem me worthy of finding a Relic.

  XIII.

  Julius 7–8

  Year 242, A.H.

  “We will excavate here!” Archon Laurence calls out to the group, then marches away.

  I sigh in relief.

  The Boundary workers rush to dismount and unpack their bags. I watch as they bring out picks and axes and start digging into the spot where I’m practically standing. I step back. When one Boundary Climber pulls out a grey metal tube from his pack and sets it aflame, I am transfixed as the ice just melts away. I am also sickened. If the Testors had devices such as these during the Testing, the ritual might have taken bells instead of siniks. No one need have died.

  I glance over at Theo, the question probably obvious in my eyes: What is the unusual device? It looks like something excavated durin
g a Testing, like those awful boots Valteri made us use.

  He shrugs, conveying nothing. Maybe he doesn’t even suspect that the device is another piece of Tech from pre-Healing days. Tech that’s not so evil, after all. I wonder if he even understands that these devices are Tech; his faith in The Lex seems too strong to accommodate any real understanding.

  The Boundary worker uses the fire-wielding tube to melt snow very quickly. I’m so mesmerized that I don’t even move for nearly a quarter bell. Finally, when I realize I’m the only one of the forty-two standing still, I hustle over to my dog team and feed them from my stores. Gods forbid I appear lazy: Industry and vigor are what the Gods demand in this, our second chance.

  I board my sled and start to guide my team toward the campsite nearby—where the Archons are either building iglus or watching the Boundary workers dig—when I make a decision. I will not stand idly by and watch as other human beings excavate the spot that I’ve Claimed. This is my responsibility, my call, and everything is on the line.

  I will join them. Nothing in The Lex forbids it.

  AFTER I HITCH UP my dogs at the camp, I return to the Site. In the midst of the Boundary workers, I plunge my pick into the ice and drag it in the circular shape I had inscribed on the map. Since I don’t have the fire-wielders that the Boundary folk do, I assist in the best way I can: I mark the exact location of the ship. The Boundary workers do not acknowledge me with words, but I see their sidelong glances, and they move out of my way in respect. Much as Lukas and Jasper would do if they were here.

  A figure moves in my peripheral vision, and I look up to see Theo waddling over to me. Breathing heavily, he bends down to where I’m continuing to mark a circle in the frozen surface. “What are you doing, Archon Eva?”

  “What does it look like?” I whisper back.

  “This is not your place.”