Relic

XXXIII: Aprilus 26 and 27 Year 242, A.H.

On the last night before we make the Passage into the Aerie, Jasper sits next to me at dinner, and I let him. For the past two siniks—since we left the Testing Site to return—I’ve sidestepped him. It’s been easy; we’ve spent every waking hour speeding back through the wilderness toward home. But my anger toward him has mellowed a little. And my curiosity has mounted, even though I tell myself it doesn’t matter. What does Jasper still want with me? When he clearly thinks so little of me? Has he re-thought his harsh judgment about my Chronicle? The judgment I now fear will be shared by the Aerie people, including the Triad?

Jasper doesn’t say anything at first. He doesn’t eat anything. He doesn’t even pretend to.

I let my thoughts return to the disturbing observations I’ve made since we left the Testing Site. The return journey is amazingly short. All we have to do is navigate our teams over a fixed, well-worn path obviously familiar to Scouts and Boundary Fishermen and Hunters alike. None of my fellow Testors seem to notice the incongruity of it all, not even Jasper. It’s surreal. The fact that the journey could’ve been so easy—that we needn’t have risked, and lost, so much—makes me furious in a different way. The Testing seems more and more like a cruel inside joke understood only by a select few. No matter that The Lex itself—and through it, the Gods—sanctifies it. Is this what Eamon discovered? That the sacred has been corrupted? Maybe mankind hasn’t changed all that much since the Healing.

Jasper clears his throat, interrupting my dark thoughts.

“Eva,” he whispers, “I’m sorry.”

I don’t answer. If he’s expecting me to fall over backward in forgiveness, he’s wrong. The wound he left is way too deep. Instead, I keep eating.

“I messed up. I shouldn’t have talked like that to you.”

He sounds genuine, but there’s something missing in his apology. I don’t hear him say that he thinks he was wrong. I have to know what he really believes.

“Do you believe the things you said to me were wrong? Or do you think they’re true, and you’re just sorry you actually said them to me? Because I’m a Maiden, or something equally stupid.”

Jasper pauses. He seems a little stumped by my question. Then he says, “That’s kind of hard to answer, Eva. I mean, The Lex states we are to use Relics to teach, not tell stories. But I also know how good you are and how dedicated you are to fulfilling the Testing’s purpose—just like Eamon. I guess I’m having a hard time making sense of how The Lex’s words could fit your actions. It makes me confused about the Testing, actually.”

I resist the urge to reach out. Most Gallants would just spout off some flowery language to appease me. Not to mention, he’s taking a big risk by making such a confession—questioning The Lex at all is tantamount to breaking it. More than that, I share his confusion about The Lex, the Testing, his role, our relationship, everything. Has he been feeling the same way as me all along?

“Thanks, Jasper.”

He looks surprised. “For what? I know I didn’t offer you the right kind of apology, the Gallant kind.”

“For being honest.”

We sit quietly for a few long ticks. The fire crackles and the busy hum of the camp takes the place of our discussion. I push my food around on my plate. I don’t know what to say next. And I’m afraid of what he might say.

Jasper flashes me that bright smile of his. Then he leans forward and whispers, “It would be an honor to have an Archon in the family. Whoever it turns out to be.”