The Continent (The Continent #1)(18)

“You realize how that sounds?”

I flush, the heat of my cheeks in stark opposition to the chill air. “I only meant…the natives have such a primitive culture.”

“Not all things of value are measured in gold, Vaela,” Aaden says. “The West has always taken a particular interest in societal enrichment, and its representatives were smitten by Aven’ei art and culture—smitten. You can see the native influence in many Western things, even now: the clothing, the architecture—they’ve enfolded the Aven’ei aesthetic into the very fabric of life.”

“And what did the West offer in return?”

“Medical advances. Clinical techniques. The Aven’ei healers were eager to learn, though skeptical about some of our procedures.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t ask for other things. Superior weaponry, perhaps. Something to give them an advantage over the Topi.”

“They did adopt our language—far more phonetic than the original Aven’ei tongue—which is no small thing. But when the Continent was first discovered—some…what, two hundred seventy years ago now?—the Four Nations put a treaty in place that severely limited the divulgence of schematics to either tribe, and prohibited any disclosure of weapons technology or combat tactics. The North, for example, had no interest in the natives, but did not want to help them advance either, should they someday take their war to our land. Probably very wise.”

“And the East? What did they gain?”

“Now that’s where it gets fun,” Aaden says, turning on the rock to face me. “The North, as you know, holds the monopoly on lumber—roughly 85 percent of the wood in the Spire comes from the North.”

Despite my mood, I can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. There is nothing so rousing as a scholar in his element. “So I’ve heard.”

“Well. When the Continent was found, the Head of State in the East was ecstatic. Her nation had been struggling financially for some time, and the North had cut off their lumber supply, as they had run up some bad debt. Imagine what it was like for the East to come across an entirely new land mass, covered in trees, completely uncontrolled by the North?”

“Like salvation, I suppose.”

“Yes. The Aven’ei were happy to share. And in exchange, they got a significant influx of agricultural wealth—crops, farming techniques, and something the Continent had never seen before: cattle.”

“No trade with the North and South?”

“None. They would have nothing to do with the natives at all.”

I sigh, feeling suddenly tired. “If all this symbiotic trading and sharing of cultures was going on—at least with the East and West—why did it end when the Spire was formed?”

“You have read the Declaration, right, Vaela?”

I begin to recite automatically: “East, West, North, and South, these Four are now One. We come together as the Spire, as a single united nation, as a pinnacle to those who—”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, you’ve memorized the preamble—all of us have. But the full Declaration reads like a list of laws. Once the nations were united as the Spire, trade with any warring country was prohibited.”

“Well, then. The Aven’ei should have simply joined the Spire and left the Topi out of it.”

“Vaela…how could they? The only way to become a part of the Spire was to set aside the ways of war entirely. That was easily done on our piece of land, where all were in accord. But the Topi by then had no interest in peace; if the Aven’ei had put down their arms, they would have been massacred.”

I shift uncomfortably on the rock, which seems to have grown colder. I have some vague recollection of learning long ago some of what Aaden has just told me—a half-remembered notion that one side or the other wanted to join with us, but had not done so. Even so, I never considered that the aggression between the Topi and the Aven’ei might not be always mutual—that one side might be trying to defend itself against the other. “How very sad for the Aven’ei, then.”

“That’s the thing about war,” he says. “It’s easy to avoid as long as no one is trying to break down your door.”

I look at my hands. “Will you go back for another tour?”

“I will,” he says, then frowns at my astonishment. “It’s important to see it, Vaela. To know the truth of it.”

“I know all I need to know,” I say. “I won’t go back.”

“You should. I don’t have to tell you that the Continent has never been fully mapped—not in consensus, anyway. Your work is important.”

“Is it? I don’t know. I don’t know if it matters.”

“Of course it matters,” he says. “And in any case, it wasn’t the war that brought you here—so don’t let it keep you from doing what you love.”

“I don’t know why you care so much,” I say, looking up to meet his eyes. “You’ve only just met me.”

“I care because you surprise me,” he says. “No one surprises me.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

His gaze casts out to the sea, and he smiles. “You are strange, Vaela, don’t you know that? You are beautiful and naive, yet wise beyond your years. You see things that others do not. I would court you, if you wish, when we return to the Spire.”