Boundary (8 page)

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.

XIII
.

“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 during 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.

A
FTER
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.”

“I don’t have any other.”

“Eva, you don’t want the other Archons to think of you as Boundary. They’re already struggling with thinking of a Maiden as Archon—and of the Chief’s daughter. Don’t throw Boundary into the already confusing mix.”

It’s the first time he’s mentioned this issue. I know he’s trying to be kind, and I know he’s taking a risk by helping me and showing his solidarity. Especially by stating the real issues aloud. But I have to stay firm. “Archon Theo, I appreciate all you’ve done to help me so far, but I must carve out my own place.” I continue working to drive the point home.

“Archon Eva, you need to think of your reputation.”

I stand up. “I won’t have much of a reputation if I get this spot wrong, will I? And I won’t have any Archon Laurels, either.”

Theo stares at me. “I suppose you are right.”

He waits a tick to see if I’ll waver, and when I don’t, he totters back to the campsite. My spirits sink a little with every step he takes. I’ve just rejected the only ally I’ve got out here. But I remind myself that I’m not really alone. Jasper and Lukas wait for me. And I have the spirits and memories of Eamon and Elizabet and Madeline to spur me on when the bells get bleak, though memories are cold
company.

Even when the Sun finishes Her descent, the Boundary workers’ fire-wielders provide light enough to continue, and they don’t stop working. I can hear the other Archons finishing up with their
iglus
, eating their evening meal, and readying for rest. I refuse to lay down my pick until the Boundary workers finally stop, too.

As I follow them back to the camp and survey possible
iglu
locations, I realize that the only ground left for them—for all of us, actually—to build shelter is an exposed stretch of ice. I can’t help but think that this is part of Laurence’s retribution against me—for being a Maiden, for daring to become an Archon, for standing up to him before the entire team, and worst of all, for being the Chief’s daughter. Even if I weren’t his daughter, my father would be furious at Laurence’s behavior, but he’s not out here. It’s just me, and I won’t yield to Laurence.

Instead, I pledge to make the sturdiest
iglu
ever. I will place it right between the Archon and Boundary camps. It will be my silent message to Laurence that I received his little missive and am unshaken. Anyway, building my
iglu
in no-man’s-land seems appropriate; I really don’t fit into any one world. And I am no man.

I follow the Boundary workers as we search for
igluksaq
, the perfect snow for
iglu
-building.
Naneq
guiding my way through the dark
sinik
, I finally locate a large swath of dry, well-packed snow, the product of a single snowfall and therefore not likely to fracture when formed into blocks. I signal the Boundary workers to join me at the snow-mound near the Archons’ side of the camp.

Side by side we carve out the snow-blocks for our
iglus
. With the cold of night and the frigid wind whipping off the
glacier tops, it’s hard labor. We never speak, but I sense a softening in their attitude toward me the longer we work. I wonder if Lukas has any of them looking out for me, as he’d charged his uncle with doing during the Testing. Lukas’s extended family—his
tuqslurausiit
—is large and could be anywhere.

In a few bells, our
iglus
are finished, our morning meal complete, and our equipment back out. By the time Her first light shines down on the camp and the Archons are beginning to stir, I am already hard at work at the Site.

I can’t keep from smiling at the surprised look on the Archons’ faces at the camp we’ve built and the hollow we’ve made in the Earth. All while they were sleeping.

The labor is intense, but I don’t let myself yield. I won’t let Laurence see me falter in any way. It takes bells for my perseverance to reap rewards.

But then I see it. The tip of the ship. Just like in Madeline’s journal.

XIV
.