Relic

XVII: Aprilus 7 Year 242, A.H.

Racing across what remains of the Tundra, I aim for that spot on the Frozen Shores. The closer I get to it, the more wildly the flag seems to flap in the bitter, fierce unalaq. I also notice something else near the flag … a series of black smudges on the white landscape. What in the Gods are those?

As I strain to figure out the nature of the black stains, I unconsciously push my team even faster. Then I see: twelve Scouts in their black uniforms flank the Testing flag.

What a welcoming party. My stomach lurches at the thought of facing the Scout from the other night again. I almost want to turn around. The Tundra suddenly seems more inviting than that lineup of black. But I remind myself that this win is key. I square my shoulders, invoke my brother’s name, and say a small prayer to the Gods.

Even though I’ve been schooled in humility my whole life, I can’t keep a victorious smile off my lips as I hurtle the final distance to the flag. I’ve come in first. In fact, I haven’t seen another Testor all day.

I engage the sled’s claw-brakes, dismount, and tie my team to a spiky ice formation. It’s eerily quiet and deathly cold as I trudge toward the black-clad figures, ready to receive some sort of commendation. Only then do I see that the lineup does not consist entirely of Scouts, although the Scout from my early-morning visit is present. And I miscounted. Jasper stands alongside the Scouts: the thirteenth in their perfectly formed row.

I nearly lose my footing. He got here first. How in the Gods did he do it?

The last time I caught sight of Jasper, it was the end of yesterday’s sinik, and he was far behind me. Not a single Testor has been on my heels all day. How could he have possibly made up for the lag without notice? He appeared out of nowhere on that first sinik of the Testing, too. It’s as if he’s operating from a map I’ve never seen. A map that no one has seen, for that matter. Not even Lukas.

I know Jasper is just doing what’s he supposed to. Still, it upsets me, as he’s now won the first three Advantages. Have all his pronouncements—about me as his Maiden, about a shared future—been a ruse? Some kind of game designed to soften me? The thought seems crazy; I don’t think anyone really perceived me as a major threat. Until we got out here, that is. Did he just play at being the perfect Gallant the other night at the iceberg so that I’d administer to him and salve his wound? He had no idea I had remedies, so how could he? I look at him, trying to read his eyes, getting madder by the tick. But he’s staring straight ahead.

“Testor, join the ranks,” a grey-haired Scout at the line’s center booms, interrupting my cynical thoughts. I guess this is what counts as congratulations in the Testing. There are no extra points for reaching the Testing flag second.

I search for an opening in the queue. A Scout close to Jasper motions for me to join the line next to him. I’m still not sure how to feel about Jasper right now, but what choice do I have? To sidle up instead to the Scout from the nighttime visit? He scowls at me. So Jasper and I stand side by side, almost touching, but with a fissure between us. And not only because The Lex demands it.

Then we wait.

I guess we’re biding time until the other Testors arrive, but no one explains. No one talks or moves. I pray to the Gods that the other Testors get here fast, because this stillness is excruciating. And cold. It feeds my exhaustion and general miserableness. Not to mention that my dog team is bedraggled and starving. Even Hansen and Rasmus, normally the most well-fed of the bunch, are looking uncomfortably lean.

I watch the Sun move across the sky, and silently count the bells. The sunlight begins to wane, and I think the first horn of the evening must sound soon. Maybe in a bell or so. As if on some unspoken cue, the Scouts gather at the line’s center, gesturing for Jasper and me to stay put while they convene.

After a few ticks, they reassemble. The elder Scout announces, “We have made a special decision, although, of course, it complies with The Lex. You two Testors will be permitted to begin building your igloos, so that you may have some shelter by the final horn of evening.”

How generous. We’ve been standing around for bells, and they will give us a single bell to build an igloo. Of course, we also have to build a fire, gather food, and feed our teams. An experienced Boundary person like Lukas could fashion a rudimentary igloo in no time. Until today, I would have guessed that Jasper would need a full day for the task, but now, I’m not so sure. He’s full of surprises.

Realizing that the Scouts could have given us the usual fifteen ticks from the first and final horns of evening to seek refuge, I nod in gracious acceptance of their ruling. Jasper does the same. We are dismissed.

Instead of running to tend my dogs, as Jasper does, I head to an area of the shoreline where a solid iceberg buffers the seawinds. I like the natural protection it offers, but it must provide a lot more. Lukas taught me over and over the importance of finding igluksaq, the perfect snow for igloo-building.

I take off my gloves and feel around. In a sheltered area just under the lip of the iceberg, the snow is too hard; it will be difficult to cut and won’t warm up properly. Another spot seems promising, but the snow proves to be very grainy and won’t stick. I am going to have to move some distance from the iceberg’s perimeter to find the elusive igluksaq. Soon my fingertips are numb. The gloves go back on.

Pulling out my iglu knife, another gift from Lukas, I begin the laborious process of cutting snow blocks. My mind wanders to Jasper. Where is he building his igloo? Does he feel badly about beating me out in the first Advantages? And I ask myself more of those same, deeper questions again. Does he feel guilty about duping me into tending his wound, if that’s what really happened the other night? He seemed embarrassed about showing me his leg, but was it a clever charade? This is silly Maiden-think, I tell myself. I must refocus on the task at hand, or risk losing to Jasper once more. I should be asking myself how he beat me. Exhaustion has made my mind cloudy and weak.

I concentrate on stacking block after block in the round pattern necessary for the solid foundation of my new home, shivering with each painstaking placement. The word “home” sticks in my mind. The very word conjures up the aroma of hearty elk stew and bread cooking in the hearth. It reminds me that I’m not just freezing, I’m starving, too. True, this igloo will be my home for the duration of the Testing, but part of me wonders whether it’ll be my last.