The Seeker (11 page)

Ariel led us to the fourth wall, beyond which showed the tops of trees. There was no mortar between the bricks of its gateway’s arch; rather, it was held up by perfect balance of positioning. Certainly someone had possessed an eye for beauty, I thought, noting its graceful design and remembering the carved doors at the entrance.

I passed through the door beneath the arch expecting to find farms on the other side. Instead, before us rose a thick, impenetrable wall of greenthorn as high as the stone wall behind us. Peer as I might, I could not tell what lay beyond it, but a small grassy path ran to the left and the right. Ariel steered us to the left, and we followed the path a short way
until it turned sharply to the right. We walked a few steps and came to a fork. Each way looked exactly alike, bordered on either side by the towering greenthorn hedge.

By now, the powerful exotic odor of the greenthorn and the sameness of the surroundings had completely confused my sense of direction, and I realized the shrubbery was actually a maze. I could not even use my powers to feel out the way ahead, because they were befuddled by the heavy scent in the air. Crushed, the thorn provided a painkiller, but in such concentration, the scent alone seemed to have a slight numbing effect on my mind. The maze was large and labyrinthine, and if Ariel had left us alone, I doubt whether we would have found our way out at all.

It was with some relief that we came around a corner to see the stone wall with its arched gateway. It was not until we had gone through it that I realized it was a different door than the one we’d entered. We had come right through the maze to the other side, and before us lay the vast farmlands of Obernewtyn.

I gazed around in amazement. Neat fields extended for leagues in all three directions, and there were barns and fences and livestock everywhere. Dozens of Misfits were working, repairing fences or building them, herding and raking. To the far left was an orchard, and there was the unmistakable scent of apples and plums.

Ariel led us along one of the many dirt paths from the maze toward a group of buildings. I hung back until the dark-haired boy went ahead of me, noting that he had a pronounced limp, though he seemed to have no trouble keeping pace.

“The maze door is always locked,” Ariel said over his shoulder as we walked. “And there are few at Obernewtyn who know the way through. To stray from the path means
death.” The thought that anyone would choose to enter the fragrant green maze without a guide made me shudder. Ariel went on to explain that the buildings we approached were where the animals were kept during the wintertime, and those beyond were enormous storage silos.

“As far as you can see in all directions and much farther belongs to Obernewtyn and, as such, is contained within our walls,” Ariel said. “We are almost completely self-sufficient here, as we must be, for in wintertime we are completely blocked off from the lowlands by snow. During that season, everyone will work in the house, spinning and weaving and preparing goods for trading when the spring comes. This enables us to purchase what we cannot produce. Before the wintertime, all the food in those silos must be transported to the main house.”

We passed a massive shed that smelled strongly of animals. Ariel wrinkled his nose, but I breathed in deeply, because it reminded me of Rangorn.

“Those are the livestock storage houses. The grain and grasses in those must be enough to feed all the animals throughout the wintertime. Some of the cows and poultry are transferred to the house courtyards to provide meat and eggs and milk until spring.”

There was no doubt that it was a highly efficient concern, and the surplus sold must more than cover the few things Obernewtyn wanted. I wondered what happened to the rest of the profits. No doubt some of it was used in purchasing more Misfits.

Far to the west, beyond the distant line of the wall around Obernewtyn, was a savage line of mountains. There were more mountains to the east. Busy with my own thoughts, I did not notice Ariel had been observing me.

“I see you are interested in the mountains beyond our borders,” he sneered. “Look all you please, for you will never see them at less of a distance. Those mountains mean freedom and death for those who attempt to reach them.”

A raucous squealing from behind us broke the tension. We followed Ariel toward a small shed, but before we reached it, a man came out carrying a small pig. As he approached, I could see that he was not a full-grown man at all but a well-built youth of about nineteen. He set the pig down in a small pen and wiped his hands on his trousers before turning to us. His greeting to Ariel was amicable but reserved; he seemed wary of the younger boy. I decided to probe him to find out why, when a strange thing happened.

He was telling Ariel about the pig he had just delivered when he broke off midsentence to stare at me with jade green eyes. Some instinct of danger made me fear I had betrayed myself, though I had only skirted the conscious thoughts that echoed his speech, and I had found no sign he was mind-sensitive. I expected him to denounce me, but instead he seemed suddenly aware that he in turn was watched. He then let his eyes rove over our entire group, but I felt sure he did this only to cover the attention he had paid me.

Ariel’s eyes passed from me to the youth thoughtfully. “This is Rushton,” he said to the group. “He is our farm overseer.”

Startled, I realized this was Enoch’s friend. The dark youth did not have the air of a Misfit, but Ariel did not choose to tell us his exact status. The overseer gave us a description of the farms and crops and the animals thereon, before leaving us to Ariel. His eyes flickered at me once more as he departed, but I was careful to keep my expression bland.

That night, my dreams were full of shadowed green eyes
conveying messages I could not understand. When I woke the following morning, Selmar and one of the other girls eyed me oddly, and I knew I must have talked in my sleep, though I could hardly have said much to incriminate myself.

I told myself it did not matter if the overseer had dimly sensed my intrusion, for he would surely have forgotten me by the time I was sent to the farms to work. But that morning, Ariel was waiting for me in the kitchen and bade me sit down to firstmeal rather than serve it.

I was to begin work on the farms that very day.

11

T
HAT FIRST DAY
working on the farms, I had my first glimpse of a Guanette bird. It was a surprising start to a surprising day.

I had been standing alone in the courtyard outside the maze when the bird flew straight up from behind the wall into the silver-streaked, dawn-gray sky. Uttering a long, lonely call, it flew in a graceful arc toward the northwest. I recognized the bird, though I had never seen a picture of one, by its massive wingspan and the brilliant red of its underbelly. As it crossed the line where the far mountains touched the sky, the sun rose in fiery splendor as if to welcome it. The enormous bird flew across the face of the sun, shimmered, and seemed to dissolve.

“Fair mazer it is,” said a voice behind me. I turned to see the thin, dark-haired boy who had stared at me so unnervingly the previous day. But now all of his attention was fixed on the Guanette bird. I was startled to see the frank delight in his expression and wondered if he was an informer after all. Behind him was a slightly older boy with a tall, angular body, a rather big nose, and countless freckles struggling to cover his face. He was looking at me with such a peculiar intensity that I stiffened and glared at him indignantly.

Catching my expression, the thin boy turned to his companion and poked him in the chest. “Can’t ye feel how
uncomfortable she is, ye great gawk?” he asked him. He turned to me and said cheerfully, “Dinna worry about Dameon. He’s as blind as a bat.”

Horribly embarrassed, I was shamed to think of the icy look I had given him and was thankful he could not see me.

Dameon grinned apologetically. “I’m sorry if I seemed to stare,” he said disarmingly and held his hand out. Startled, I took his hand and wondered at his elegant manner and grace of speech.

“An’ I’m Matthew,” said the dark-haired boy. “An’ you’re Elspeth.”

I did not know what to say, for his knowledge of my name suggested he had made inquiries about me, yet he did not act like an informant.

“What were you both admiring?” Dameon asked, before I could decide how to respond.

Matthew answered. “We saw a Guanette bird, an’ ye know how rare those are. It came from near th’ maze. Queer to see one here, though. They dinna usually come down from the high mountains.”

The door to the inner courtyard opened, and a group of other Misfits arrived, most of them those who had come on the tour the day before. Ariel arrived last with Cameo in tow. He unlocked the maze door, then relocked it when we had gone through. As he took the lead, I moved to follow, but Matthew caught my arm and held me back until the others had passed. The twins went last, looking at us curiously. Furious, I shook Matthew’s hand off and followed them, wishing that I had completely ignored him as my instincts had warned. Did he not understand the danger in doing anything that drew attention?

We walked in silence for a bit; then Cameo began to
chatter to Ariel. With her masking prattle, the twins began to talk in low, intense voices. Curiosity made me send out a probe. They were planning some sort of escape, so I withdrew smartly. I didn’t even want to think of escapes, intended or otherwise.

Matthew came to walk beside me, and I glared at him, determined to snub any further attempt at friendship—if that was what he wanted.

“Can you hear me?” asked a voice in my thoughts.

Shocked, I stumbled. Righting myself, I fought to calm my clamoring thoughts. I told myself sternly that I had imagined Matthew’s voice inside my mind, but now he reached out and put his hand on my arm. “I thought so,” he said quietly. “I sensed you ‘listening’ to the twins. But I suspected ye before that.” He was positively delighted.

I could only feel numb. Even surrounded by Misfits, I had never really thought there would be anybody else like me. “I … I don’t understand,” I said doggedly.

Matthew smiled again in an impish, knowing way. “I thought there was only me and me mam who could do it. Then for the last few sevendays, I began to feel like I did when me mam was about, and I started wonderin’ if there was another. I felt it during meals, an’ I was gannin’ through everyone, dippin’ into their minds to see if they could hear me. I couldn’t reach ye, though, for ye’ve a powerful shield. I realized the only way I would ken for sure was to catch ye in the act of farseeking. So I waited, and now I know, Elf.”

I shivered at the added proof of his intrusion into my mind, for how else could he have known Jes’s nickname for me?

“It is dangerous to talk of such things here,” I whispered, for I realized there was no point in pretending. It was too late to be cautious. But could he be trusted? I reached into his
mind some little way, intending only to find out if there was any chance of betrayal. But before I could learn what I wanted to know, Matthew’s eyes narrowed, and I sensed a slight withdrawal in him.

“Interestin’,” he whispered. “Ye’ve just tried to deep-probe me like my mam used to do. I can’t do that, and I couldn’t stop ye if ye were determined. Ye mun be very strong.” He looked suddenly pensive. “Now that I think of it, I can almost understand why those idiots from the village were afraid of me. ’Tis a queer thing to ken yer thoughts are on show. Dameon here has some power, too, but it is not farseeking or deep probing. It’s something to do with being able to feel what people are feeling.” Matthew shrugged as if he did not think it a very useful ability.

My mind reeled with the things he said. In a few moments, he had changed my life. I had so long believed I was a lone freak with the ability to read the thoughts of other people and of beasts. A strange, almost frightening thought came to me then: if there were three of us, there might be more. There must be more. Belatedly, it occurred to me that I had been rude to dip into Matthew’s mind. This sudden desire not to invade the thoughts of another person was new and told me that I had accepted something I had previously thought impossible. I was no longer alone.