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for my choice, but also fear for my fate. When they see me staring down at them, they turn away.
    For what little comfort can be offered, I turn to my family at the edge of the platform. As with everything in New North, the crowd is organized according to rank: Triad members in front, Keepers and their families right behind, with the regular Aerie folk like Stewards and Guards in back of them. And in the far rear, the Boundary people stand, a nearly uniform sea of black hair and dark eyes.
    Not surprisingly, my mother is decked out in her finest Feast dress, even though the Prime Bell hasn’t even rung yet. She is peeking to her left, assessing the dress of the Triad wife next to her. My father isn’t watching me either. He stares at the crowd instead. When he braves a glance up, I understand why. He can’t conceal his own fear for me. The Lex forbade him to participate in Eamon’s training, and he’d been confident for his son. Not so, for me. Maybe making eye contact wasn’t the best idea. I want to stay strong. Or, at least, look strong. I think of The Lex:
let your children Test should they choose the Commitment, as Testing is a Sacred Honor granted only by the Gods …
    I turn my attention back to the platform. The eleven other Testors flank me. Gallants, all. Of course, there’s Jasper, but I know the others as well. You can’t attend the Aerie School and not be familiar with everyone your age, although we’re patently ignoring one another right now. We are all wearing the same black Testing uniform: tunics over pants topped by inky sealskin coats. Gone are my long Maiden gowns and furcloaks, and I wonder if I look ridiculous up here, dressed like a Gallant. I really have no idea, as I’ve never seen myself at length. My father’s mirror Relic is the New North’s best and most stark reminder of that sacred law. The Lex bans the use of reflections, so we Aerie Ladies, Gentlewomen, and Maidens rely on the honesty of others to get a sense of our appearances. That, and the occasional peek at a window or smooth stretch of ice. And I didn’t get either honesty or ice today, other than a scornful look from my mother. Me: the would-be botanist, in my Testing uniform with my hair pinned up in the fishtail design favored by the Boundary women.
    What am I doing up here?
    The thought makes me self-conscious. I start to tremble. I have to fight to keep from losing my composure. I scan the crowds, desperate to catch sight of someone or something to stop the anxiety before it takes hold. At first, I notice only the tidy network of the Aerie town center—with its well-kept Keeps and interconnected, covered ice-bridges. Then, in the farthest reach of the town square, near the stone archway of the Housegoods Keep, I note some of our family Attendants, Katja among them. Her expression mirrors that of Grace and Annika; she looks both baffled and frightened. None of this helps my rattled nerves.
    Only when I spot Lukas do I realize I’ve been searching for him all along. He sees what is happening. He mouths one word, the one he had uttered over and over in our training: “Believe.”
    I can’t nod, but I blink hard and meet his eyes. I feel my feet on the ground again, solid. I stop shaking. When Father mounts the stage and begins speaking, I am composed enough to turn toward him and listen.
    “Today, we gather for the
Vale
, the farewell to our Testors.These young men—” He clears his throat, and I wonder if his slip was unintentional—or even a subtle encouragement, that he truly thinks the same of me as he thought of Eamon. “Excuse me, these young
people
will leave the safety of the Aerie and venture toward the most hazardous part of New North—the Frozen Shores.”
    Here, Jasper’s uncle Ian, the Chief Lexor, takes his ritual place beside my father. I can’t help but note that the deep lines carved into his face are once more dark and frozen. Gone is any trace of the celebratory Feast-goer I saw last night. In