The Seeker (16 page)

“No!” I screamed, but inwardly, since not even my mouth would respond to my will.

Then I sensed another mind. It was not like the mindless force that had taken hold of me. It was human, but there was something strange about it, too. But any curiosity I might have felt was swamped by my terror.

“O reaching girlmind … who?”

This other mind was far stronger than Matthew’s, but there was something disjointed about it, as if a voice spoke in an echoing chamber. I felt the cool touch of the other mind, and its tendrils meshed gently with mine. Instinctively, I fought free of its embrace, knowing that such a connection would reveal me utterly to that unknown mind. Yet in that moment I had sensed its desire to help me.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Trust me, sistermind. What is your name? My friends and I have sensed you before.”

I struggled for a moment in the viselike grip of the inhuman force and realized I was about to walk out into the open.

“Help me!” I cried to the other.

“Perhaps if we help, you will trust. You are strong. But the machine that holds you is too strong for you to fight. Together we will be stronger. Meld with me, and when I signal, pull away as hard as you can. The machine has no mind to make a decision. It will not realize that to divide is to conquer.”

“I can’t meld,” I said desperately, fearing the revelation that would result almost as much as I feared the terrible force that held my mind and drew my body forward.

“You must,” said the othermind urgently.

I was in the doorway now, and I was suddenly fearful that whoever controlled the force that had taken hold of me was determined to make me reveal who I was. Terror gave me strength, and I swayed uncertainly, neither moving forward nor back as I battled the force with every bit of strength I could muster.

It was not enough. I stepped out into the sunlight.

“I will meld,” I agreed in desperation. The othermind moved forward at once, and I felt a great desire to simply surrender to those soft tendrils. But as if it knew my fear of a deeper melding, the othermind held itself rigidly away from the center of my thoughts.

“Now!” it called, and we began a terrific tug-of-war. As predicted, the machine, if such it was, tried to keep us both but did not have the strength. The moment it slid off me, I slammed a shield into place.

I staggered back inside the stables, appalled to discover the extent of my weakness. My face dripped with perspiration, and I wiped it hastily on my sleeve.

A machine able to exert a force that could capture a mind!
I was astounded and frightened, and not only because someone was apparently using a forbidden Beforetime device. It was the knowledge that whoever was using it might know about people like Matthew and me. And so, I thought, must the Oldtimers who had created such a machine. But I dismissed that notion. My abilities, like Matthew’s and Dameon’s, were Misfit abilities that had arisen from the poisons of the Great White.

My more immediate concern was the identity of the strange othermind that had helped me.

There was nothing to do but to get on with mucking out the stables, and I did so slowly, because the battle with the machine had drained me. I cursed the stupidity that had led me to farseek. I would not dare attempt it again. In fact, I was now too frightened to use any but the most basic powers, for perhaps any use of my abilities would draw that malevolent force to me again. And the othermind might not be there to rescue me a second time.

My vague notion of escape grew into a determination to get away from Obernewtyn and all of its mysteries and dangers. Cameo must come, and Dameon and Matthew. I knew of no other I cared to trust. Fleetingly, I thought of my rescuer. A man, I thought, but there was no way to contact him without arousing the machine. Anyway, he seemed smart and strong enough to take care of himself, and he had spoken of friends, so he was not alone.

Learning what had happened over midmeal, and agog with delight to hear of the othermind, Matthew disagreed. “If we really are going to escape, yer bound to take him an’ his friends, too. After all, he saved ye.”

“There is no way to learn who they are with that machine ready to catch any probe,” I said.

“There must be some way,” he insisted, entranced with the idea of my gallant rescuer.

I was less romantic. “He might not even want to leave. We don’t know if he is a Misfit or if he is at Obernewtyn. I’m not even really sure it’s a he. And the whole thing might have been a trap.”

“Ungrateful Elspethelf,” Matthew sputtered into thought.

“He helped me, and I am grateful he saved my life,” I conceded hastily, forestalling one of Matthew’s emotive lectures. “Which is why I am not going to throw it away trying to learn who he is. That would be truly ungrateful.”

“Speaking of help,” Dameon interjected quietly, “I have been thinking. If you really intend to escape, you should not take me. I would slow you down. And it is not so bad for me here.”

“Of course yer comin’ with us!” Matthew said firmly. “We’ve taken yer blindness into account.”

Dameon smiled at his friend sadly. “Sometimes I think you have more heart than sense. Most times,” he corrected comically, and we all laughed. Then Dameon grew serious again. “Well, if I am to come, then I will speak. This is a dead quest from the start if it is not planned carefully. Have you thought what will happen if we
do
get away? We have no Certificates, and we will stand out wherever we go.”

I stared at him. I had not thought beyond escape, but he was right. We had to plan everything, otherwise we would find ourselves condemned to whitestick cleansing.

“What about dressing up as gypsies?” Dameon said.

“Wonderful!” I cried, for gypsies did not have Normalcy Certificates, and they moved constantly about the Land.

Suddenly Matthew stiffened, looking over my shoulder. “Look out. It is our surly friend, the overseer.” I turned my head slightly to see that he was talking with another Misfit.

“He takes an interest in us,” Dameon said softly, obviously empathising the overseer as he came closer. “He does not like what he sees.”

“Maybe he’s only interested in one of us,” Matthew muttered with a sly glance in my direction.

Catching the gist of his thoughts, I scowled. “Don’t be an idiot,” I snapped. Rushton made no pretense of his dislike of me.

“He’s coming over,” Matthew said, and we all munched our food casually.

“You! Elspeth. I have a job for you,” Rushton called. Nodding to the others, I got to my feet and went to the waiting overseer. I could not make out his expression, because the sun was behind him. He led me away.

“You are foolish to make your friendships so blatant,” he said angrily. I stared at him in astonishment. “But I did not call you to say that. The girl Selmar sleeps in your chamber. When did you last see her?”

“She wanders at night,” I said, suspicious at his knowledge of household matters.

“Did she sleep there the night before she disappeared?” he queried.

“I don’t know. I don’t know when she disappeared, I mean,” I said, completely dumbfounded. “Why do you want to know?”

“You have no right to ask me questions,” he said haughtily.

I saw red. “And what right have you to ask them of me?”

“I belong here,” he said icily. I did not dare speak; he was so angry. “Fool of a girl,” he snarled. “Go back to your cows.”

Bewildered by the encounter, I went to the barn. Louis was waiting, and he seemed to have forgotten his anger with me. Recklessly, I asked him again about Selmar.

To my surprise, he did not lose his temper, but only sighed. “She were a lovely girl,” he said sadly. I frowned, because he was talking as if she were dead.

“She is free,” I said gently, now certain that they had once been friends.

“No,” he responded, anguish in his face. “That devil-spawned brat, Ariel, has caught her, and no doubt he has taken her to the doctor, though what more he can do to the poor bairn, I dinna ken.”

“That is what happened to Selmar, isn’t it?” I asked slowly. “The doctor’s treatments destroyed her mind.”

“He never meant it to be so here, th’ first master didn’t,” Louis said. I did not understand what he meant, but instinct kept me silent as he went on. “He were a good man, an’ he built this place because he thought th’ mountain air were a healin’ thing. Two sons an’ a wife he had buried already from the rotting sickness, an’ another child burned. He wanted to make this place a sanctuary, and he took another wife to help him in his work. But she were no helpmate, an’ when he died, their son, Michael, were too weak to fight against the yellow-eyed vixen. It was she that started buyin’ Misfits from the Council.”

I wanted to ask about the doctor, but Louis set me to churning, so instead I thought about the things he had told me. The first Master of Obernewtyn—Lukas Seraphim—had moved here out of grief and a desire to start anew. He had married again—someone Louis called a “yellow-eyed vixen,” who must be the mother of Michael Seraphim, who had grown up to become the second Master of Obernewtyn. Though from what Louis said, his mother had been the true master. But who was master now?

That evening, on my way back from the farms, one
thought overshadowed all these others. Louis had confirmed my fear that the doctor’s treatments could leave Cameo a ruin. It seemed to me that the only way to save her would be to make our escape, and soon.

I meant to speak to the others about it at nightmeal, but I had not long sat down before someone came to tell me the doctor wished to interview me the next day.

15

I
WOKE EARLY
the next morning, feeling as if I had slept badly, though I could not remember any nightmare. Our rooms were always unlocked in the morning by one of the Misfits, and it was the only time we could really do as we pleased. Most mornings I readied myself for the day slowly, but today I was too apprehensive. I dressed swiftly and went straightaway to the kitchen. I was pleased to find Matthew had got there before me. He asked me about Cameo, and I had to shake my head and admit that she had not slept in her bed the night before.

We talked about what I had learned from Louis Larkin. Matthew was more worried than ever when I told him my theory that Selmar had been rendered defective by the doctor’s treatments. He suggested that we talk seriously about escape at midmeal.

I swallowed and finally forced myself to tell him that I would not be going to the farms that morning because the doctor had summoned me.

He looked aghast. “Do ye know Louis once warned me to watch out for him? He said there was a dragon in the doctor’s chamber. What does that mean, I’d like to know?”

“I hope I don’t find out,” I said.

The outside door opened with a gust of wind and a bang that made everyone including the cook turn and look to see
who had come in. It was only a Misfit named Willie, whom Matthew nicknamed Sly Willie because he was a known informer. But just behind him came an older man who was a stranger. He was not a Guardian or a Councilman, but his clothes were so faded that it was impossible to tell if he wore the green of a traveling jack or the brown motley of a potmender. He must be one or the other, I thought. Who else would make the long, hard journey up to Obernewtyn?

“Who is that?” Matthew whispered.

I shrugged, but something about the stranger seemed familiar. He sat down at a table near us, and Andra gave him something to eat. He was very tall and tanned, and the knees of his pants were sturdily patched. He ate, shoveling the food down as Willie sat opposite him.

“So where do ye come from?” Willie asked.

“From the Lowlands,” the man grunted. “I had to cross badlands on foot. No one warned me that pass is tainted like it is.”

“As long as you kept to the path and didn’t stop, you won’t have been hurt,” Willie said. “We don’t get many visitors,” he added

The stranger shrugged. “I came up because I heard there might be work for me. Potmetal is my specialty.”

Hearing this, Andra came forward to speak with him. Most of the kitchen pots were in need of repair, and the potmender said he would do as much as he could that day and the next. The man spread out his tools to work, and the cook cuffed Willie and sent him about his business.