Boundary (13 page)

There is indeed, but I’ve said enough. Enough to make my father ask questions, but hopefully not enough to embroil me in a full confession. I want my father to learn the details of Laurence’s overreaching and dangerous risks from someone other than me. The Boundary Climber’s death must be reported, and Laurence must be held accountable, but making that happen is not my duty. Too much is at stake, as my father said himself.

Glancing over at my mother, I play the Archon, bristling at the talk of work in the presence of Ladies. I say, “Perhaps we should speak of something more appropriate over breakfast.”

My mother’s face lights up. She loves it when I act the Maiden—or Maidenly Archon, anyway. “Excellent suggestion, Eva. No more Archon talk, Jon. Perhaps some talk of the Union?”

My father doesn’t look as pleased; I can see questions and anger simmering beneath his controlled surface. But he acquiesces and gestures for us to sit. “As you wish.”

We take our usual seats, and for a tick it seems as though no time has passed at all. We talk of Union plans, Aerie gossip, and the warming weather. We are simply a Maiden and her parents, and we act as if we have never suffered strife or heartache. But then Eamon’s empty chair stares back at me, and I realize that we are all just playing roles.

My parents deserve some happiness, however fleeting, so I paint on a Maidenly smile and ask for the herbal tisane. As my mother passes it to me across the elegantly set breakfast table, she smiles. Just as I’m about to congratulate myself for giving her some momentary pleasure, she says, “Have you forgotten something, Eva?”

I look at my plate to see if I’ve used the wrong utensil or forgotten to lay my napkin in my lap. Too many
siniks
beyond the Ring will make one forget the niceties of Aerie life. Everything looks in order. “I don’t think so, Mother.”

“It is Basilika Day, Eva. We will leave shortly.”

I glance down at my clothes. I’m wearing my Archon black. I’ve completely lost track of the days of the week. No surprise. On the dig, we only observed Basilika Day—the Lex-ordered day of worship, reflection, and rest—by way of an extra prayer. Otherwise, it was Archon business as usual.

I jump up. “I will change into one of my gowns.”

As I bound up the stairs, my mother calls, “Don’t forget
your hair, Eva.”

My hair. I slept in my Boundary-style fishtail plaits, an updo unbefitting a Maiden on her way to the Basilika. How the Maidens and Ladies of the Aerie would whisper. I can’t afford any more attention than I’ve already garnered. I’ll have to bathe and restyle.

As I run up the stairs, I call for my Companion. “Katja!” I’ll need her assistance to make it in time. Even as I believe myself to be a strong, self-sufficient Archon, capable of surviving alone beyond the Ring, I quickly fall back into the ways of a Maiden. I wish switching back and forth was as easy as changing my clothes.

Katja races into my bedroom to heat the water for my bath. After she’s filled the tub and lit the fire underneath, she opens my wardrobe to ready a gown. She selects a brown dress, suitable enough for the Basilika with its somber shade but flattering enough for the Aerie crowd with an emerald-green trim that my mother says brings out the red of my hair and the greenish hue of my eyes. I nod my approval as I strip off my Archon uniform and wait for the bath to fully warm.

Waiting. How much of a Maiden’s time is spent waiting. Time stands still for the keepers of the hearth while their Gallants are out at their callings. This was almost my lot.

XXIII
.

We hear the chanting of the Basilikons before we reach the doors. My mother flashes me a stern look, but she needn’t. I know we are late. I also know the unprecedented tardiness is my fault. It took longer than I’d hoped to scrub the Archon residue off to reveal the Maidenly skin and hair underneath.

The guards betray no expression as they open the ice-doors to the Basilika. Arms linked with my parents, we walk down the aisle. Although I have walked down this aisle several times since the Chief Basilikon performed the Betrothal ceremony for me and Jasper, I haven’t felt so many eyes on me since that day. I feel as though I’m reliving the ritual—only without my Betrothed.

Jasper. He must be here. Only illness or duty would
keep him from the Basilika on Basilika Day.

After we settle into our designated second-row bench, I glance to my right to see if he’s in his usual seat. Jasper’s family is accorded a bench level with our own, largely due to the Chief Lexor ranking of his uncle Ian. I don’t have to hunt for him. There he is, so handsome in his fur cloak and his blond hair freshly brushed. He catches me, and stares right back, a glowing smile breaking over his face.

I blush and look down. The Lex doesn’t prohibit his display of affection, but the boldness and the directness is unusual for the Basilika. I glance over at my mother and father, expecting stern glances, but I observe them exchanging smiles. They’re delighted with Jasper’s apparent affection. And my Maidenly blushing, no doubt.

The Chief Basilikon calls us to prayer. I find it hard to concentrate. Between Jasper’s stares and my internal debate about how to contact Lukas, the Gods aren’t foremost in my thoughts. Perhaps They won’t be offended. If They even exist, that is.

Thankfully, the Chief Basilikon performs a standard service—no postscript or sermons—and I’m able to make the Lex-required responses without much thinking. Before I know it, we’re chanting the final prayer together. When the service ends and the Aerie folk begin to mingle, Jasper strides directly over to me.

“Welcome home,” he says and takes my hand in his.

I shiver a little. His touch reminds me of our parting, and I feel myself blush again. How can I feel this way around him but still long for the sight of Lukas? Neither emotion is particularly Maidenly, and together, they are the very
opposite.

“It’s good to be home,” I answer.

“I’ve missed you.”

I smile back at him. “And I you.”

“Why didn’t you send word that you were returning? I would have waited for you at your home.”

“I didn’t know myself until yesterday. There wasn’t time to send a hawk.”

“You returned from the Frozen Shores to the Aerie in one day?” His face shows his disbelief. After the long trek that we took to the Frozen Shores as Testors, a journey that took weeks and inflicted much misery and suffering, it is hard to accept that the travel could be so short. Particularly with what it means about our leaders.

“Yes. It is as we thought,” I answer, trying to hint at my meaning. I’m eager to share my observations with him. To see if he is indeed on my side.

He grasps at clarity. “Truly, it only—”

Jasper’s mother interrupts. “Eva, darling, we are so glad to see you safely home.”

Our parents engage us in their chatter. As Jasper and our fathers talk of his Forge preparations, our mothers pick up a conversation about my Union gown that seems to have started on an earlier day. My mother has showed me the lavish dress, and it appears that she’s spent much of my time away on its embroidery. Probably with Jasper’s mother at her side.

An idea occurs to me. “Mother, do you think that they would open the Clothing Keep for us today?”

She laughs, puzzled. “Why on His Earth would you need to visit the Clothing Keep today? Or any day, for that matter.”

“Well, you know that I adore that lovely light blue you
chose for the Betrothal Gown?”

“Yes, dear.” Her voice is up to its Lady-pitch, because she senses I’m up to something. “Blue is the only suitable shade for a Union ceremony. The symbol of man and woman joining together just as mankind joined together with the will of the Gods, the God of the Earth in particular:
Blue of the sky, blue of the seas, blue of His Earth
.” She quotes The Lex for Maidens.

“The color is exquisite,” Jasper’s mother chimes in.

“Oh, the color is beautiful,” I agree, and I even mean it. “I’d just been hoping to accent it with a vivid blue. You know, like the rich waves of the Frozen Seas.”

My mother studies me. “I’ve never seen the Frozen Seas, Eva,” she says wistfully. How sad to think that she lives here on this island surrounded by nothing else but water, and yet she’s never laid eyes on the ocean. Again I am conscious of how strange I must seem to these Ladies, to have witnessed a sight previously reserved for men. And only a select few men at that.

“Nor have I. Can you describe it?” Jasper’s mother looks so eager that I almost feel bad for my deceit.

“It is entrancing yet ever-changing. At one tick, like the bright blue of the early spring night sky, and at the very next tick, like the blueberries they grow in the Ark for the Aurora festival.”

“The seas contains that many shades of blue?”

“Yes. More.”

The Ladies exchange a glance. My mother asks, “You have your heart set on this, my dear?”

“I do.”

The Ladies nod at each other. They approve of my suggestion and want to encourage my Maidenly interest in the
Union gown. Up until now, I’ve been so focused on my Archon work.

“Must it be today?” my mother asks. “It’s Basilika Day.”

“I work as an Archon on every other day.”

“True. But surely I could choose the thread while you are working.”

“But that is my point, Mother. How would you know which shade to choose? You’ve never seen the Frozen Seas.”

After so many years with my strong-willed father, my mother knows when she has lost an argument. Although she rarely wields her power for self-serving reasons, she relents. “I’ll send word to the Clothing Keep.” She issues an instruction to the Attendant who’s been following along on our walk.

I know that no one will dare deny Lady Margret, wife of the Chief Archon. Perhaps today I will see Lukas.

XXIV
.

As we amble from the Basilika to the Clothing Keep, the narrow streets of the Aerie bustle with other Basilika Day strollers. Jasper’s mother and mine pay due respect to those we pass, pausing to nod at a fellow Lady or say a brief word to a Keeper’s wife, but their chatter focuses on my Union ceremony dress. For good reason, Ladies praise my mother’s handiwork as the finest in the Aerie, and the two women linger over decisions about where my mother should place a delicate snowflake design or inlay a rare crystal. I try not to let their excitement poison me with guilt over yet another deception.

Jasper walks beside me in silence, pretending to listen to our fathers’ talk of the harvest, but we cannot be alone. He knows this, too. My consideration of the Union garb is all
too rare, and my father doesn’t want to waste a tick of this time stolen from my Archon duties.

With a shrug of apology, Jasper allows himself to be led away by my father to a group of Lords and Gentlemen talking in the Aerie town square. It’s just as well. We will arrive at the Clothing Keep soon, and it is no place for a Gallant.

I smile sadly to myself. It’s funny how even I slip back into my old role and way of thinking. Once I shed my Archon clothes, that part of me is put aside, too.

Glancing up again to give Jasper a farewell wave, I notice that a large crowd has gathered in the town square. A much larger crowd than called for by the usual Basilika Day mingling. What is happening? I signal to my mother to wait a tick, and while she idles patiently in the street with Jasper’s mother, I step into the square.

There on the center dais, I see the reason for the crowd. There on the platform stands the gallows. Empty.

Strange. I’m certain that the gallows wasn’t there when I passed by the town square last evening. After I returned to my family home in the dead of night, someone must have been hard at work erecting the wooden scaffolding necessary for the horrific public punishment of hanging.

Why was the gallows built so quickly? It’s rare for a hanging to take place on Basilika Day; only the most heinous of crimes, those in most need of urgent punishment, are permitted on this day. What crime could have necessitated this?