The Seeker (30 page)

“It’s good to see you smile,” Kella said. The old fear of revealing myself caused me a moment of panic, then I consciously relaxed. The need for hiding my expressions was past, at least at Obernewtyn.

“Yet there is not much to smile at, even here,” I said somberly.

Kella’s look sharpened. “You spoke to the newcomers?”

I nodded. “Their news is worrying. When I was in the orphan homes, torture was nothing more than a rumor.”

Kella’s face was pale. The deliberate infliction of pain was an anathema to any healer, but torture was doubly dreadful, involving as it did both mental and physical pain forged into one. She disliked even the mind-bending activities of the Coercer guild, and this was far worse.

As if reading my thoughts, she said, “Miryum claims there are times when the end justifies the means, but even a coercer could not condone torture.”

Tactless Miryum was guilden of the aggressive Coercer guild, whose function was to defend Obernewtyn and prepare for battle with the Council, if it should come to that. There was a growing rift between the Healer and Coercer guilds. The members of each, along with futuretellers, could descend into the unconscious mind—we called it
deep probing
. But no two guilds used the ability to deep-probe in the same manner. The mind of a coercer was a weapon to suborn the will of other minds. By contrast, the healer used a probe, honed tendril-thin, for healing. It was little wonder the two guilds were at loggerheads—they used the same ability to opposing ends.

“Anyone would think you were a futureteller,” Kella said resignedly, clearly referring to the habit futuretellers had of drifting into a dream in the middle of conversations.

I laughed. “It might be pleasant. You would never be surprised by anything.”

“Not for me,” Kella said. “I prefer to live in the present. I don’t want to know the future.”

Without warning, the door was flung open by a wild-eyed Matthew. Seeing me, his anxious expression dissolved. “Here ye are! I’ve been searchin’ all over for ye!” he said accusingly.

I blinked at him. “Oh? I must have forgotten to say where I was going.”

Kella snorted, knowing I disliked the lack of privacy that went with being a guildmistress and often evaded such formalities as making my whereabouts known.

Forgetting his frustration, Matthew hurried over. “Rushton has just come back! An’ he’s called a guildmerge.”

“When?” I asked.

“Now!” Matthew said.

My heart jumped. Rushton often traveled outside the mountains, for there was no danger to the legal Master of Obernewtyn doing so. But something serious must have happened for him to call a guildmerge so abruptly.

“Did he say why?” I asked. I dried my feet quickly and slipped on my boots.

“Nowt a word,” Matthew answered, handing me my walking stick. “He was investigatin’ a rumor that th’ Council meant to establish a soldierguard camp in th’ highlands. Do ye suppose …?” he began, aghast at the thought of a camp so close to Obernewtyn. It had been bad enough when a soldierguard training camp was set up just below the lower ranges. If the Council meant to put a camp in the highlands, it could only be because they intended to tighten their control of the high country.

“It might be no more than gossip,” I said.

Ceirwan would know what had happened, since he had gone with Rushton. As guilden of the farseekers, he would normally have reported to me at once, but Rushton’s call for an immediate guildmerge had clearly made that impossible.

I wondered if any of the guilds would use the unexpected meeting to make requests. I had had no time to prepare a submission
since meeting with Garth, but Pavo would be at the meeting and might fill in the gaps. If Matthew’s speculations were right, it was important to act quickly in case Rushton decided to suspend all expeditions.

I shivered as we exited the outer doors of the Healer hall. As ever in the mountains, there was a chilly underbite to the air, and the old burn scars on my feet and lower legs ached. Roland had promised they would heal in time, but two years had passed and they still hurt at the first sign of cold weather.

My eyes went beyond the gray stone walls that surrounded Obernewtyn and its fields and farms to the horizon and the jagged line of the western mountains separating us from the highlands. Those mountains were our best protection, especially if soldierguards did set up camp in the highlands. In winter, snow cut us off from the highlands entirely, and even in the mildest season, the road to Obernewtyn was difficult. The mountains kept us safe, yet the sight of them never failed to disturb me in some deep, incomprehensible way.

Long ago, in one of his queer fits, Maruman had told me my destiny lay in the mountains. Battered and half mad, the old cat had been my first friend and had followed me to Obernewtyn. Expecting a grim existence there, perhaps a horrible death, I had found friends and learned I was not alone in my mutant abilities. Once Rushton had taken control of Obernewtyn from his defective half brother, who had been manipulated by the wicked Alexi and Madam Vega, I had accepted his offer of refuge and stayed on. Alexi and Madam Vega had been killed in their battle to keep control of Obernewtyn, and their young accomplice Ariel had fled to his death in the bitter mountain winter. I could hardly recall
Alexi’s face or even Madam Vega’s, but Ariel remained a vivid nightmare image. Of them all, he had left an impression, for his cruelty and his manipulative lust for power, hidden behind his angelic beauty, were evidence that evil might wear its own face.

To my surprise, I had been happy at Obernewtyn. Apart from his periodic wandering, Maruman also made Obernewtyn his home.

Yet I had the sudden chill premonition that the long time of healing and peace was drawing to an end.

“What is it?” Matthew asked.

“I was thinking of the past,” I said. “Everything that happened in the caves with Alexi and Madam Vega, the Zebkrahn machine exploding, these …” I touched my scarred legs. “It all seems so long ago.”

Matthew nodded grimly. “Sometimes I dream of Ariel an’ I …” He shook his head. “I wish I had killed him. If he had nowt died in th’ storm …”

I looked up, surprised at his vehemence.

When I had first met him, Matthew had been thin and frail-looking, with a pronounced limp and hungry, intelligent eyes. The limp had been long since healed with a reset bone, and Matthew now stood a head taller than I, with strong, wiry limbs. He had proven more than capable in his role as Farseeker ward. Ceirwan was convinced he was developing deep-probe ability, saying he often seemed to know our thoughts before we sent them. I had dismissed that, thinking it no more than the natural result of our closeness. But it might be so. There was so much about our abilities we had yet to understand.

Farseekers could converse mind to mind over varying distances, an ability that involved conscious rather than unconscious
thought. I had believed myself the only farseeker also able to deep-probe. Yet multiTalents were not uncommon among us, and assignment to a guild was based on the dominant ability. In rare cases, two abilities were of equal strength.

As if to confirm his ability to know my private thoughts, Matthew said, “Maybe we should use this guildmerge to raise th’ matter of Zarak changin’ guilds.”

Zarak had a strong Talent for communicating with animals, like his father, and he had chosen the Beastspeaking guild, only to discover that he had equally strong farseeking abilities. This had resulted in the desire to transfer to the Farseekers.

I shook my head decisively. “Now is not the time. Besides, I think that matter can be better resolved on a personal level. But something will have to be done soon, I agree. Zarak is proving to be a disturbing influence in the wrong guild.”

Matthew nodded fervently. “Not that Lina isn’t capable of gannin’ up to mischief on her own.…” He trailed off as we approached the front steps to Obernewtyn.

The new doors were less imposing than the old, being too plain to complement the ornate stone scrolling of the entrance. I had a fleeting memory of watching the original doors burn, and with them the concealed maps that I alone knew showed a route to the Beforetime weaponmachines that had caused the Great White. To the others, the burning had been simply the easiest way to get at the inlaid gold we had used to make armbands for the guildmasters. That had been my suggestion, and Rushton had agreed. Perhaps my wounds had led him to humor me. He had been very kind and attentive then, I thought pensively.

As if conjured up by my thoughts, Rushton was waiting for us in the circular entrance hall.

He looked tired, and it was clear from his clothes that he had not bothered to change. I felt a rush of gladness at the sight of him, for though Obernewtyn ran smoothly even in his absence, I never felt as safe as when he was there.

He met my look with an ambivalent stare. It was almost a challenge. Before I could speak, he sent Matthew to find representatives from the Futuretell guild; then he ushered me toward the guildmerge, matching his steps to my own limping progress.

“What has happened?” I asked.

Rushton turned to look at me. “The Council is showing renewed interest in us. Two men were in the highlands asking questions about Obernewtyn.”

“You think they were from the Council?”

He shrugged angrily. “I know nothing, except that I am tired of my ignorance. Do you remember when I went to claim Obernewtyn in Sutrium?” he asked.

I remembered. Sutrium was the center of Council activities. It had not been easy for him to convince everyone to wait for his return. Many had wanted to leave, fearing his trip would lead to their capture and burning. That we had chosen to wait had been an act of faith in Rushton. We had never regretted it.

“I remember,” I murmured.

“I thought the Council had trusted me when I’d told them that Obernewtyn had been badly damaged in a firestorm but that I meant to rebuild slowly, using those who had survived for labor. I thought they would lose interest in us. Maybe I was wrong. With farseeker or coercer help, I could have made sure. But now …”

“Now?” I echoed.

Rushton looked at me, his green eyes glowing with sudden
excitement, as if he had resolved some inner doubt. “It’s time we found out what the Council is up to. Time we made a move into
their
territory.”

“Sutrium?” I whispered.

“Sutrium,” he echoed.

2

A
S USUAL, GUILDMERGE
was held in the circular room that had once served as the doctor’s work chamber and library, but all of the tables and benches that had filled it were gone. Only the enormous fireplace and the enormous hinged bookshelf dividing the chamber remained, though the bookshelf was pushed back to allow for the enormous table and the chairs surrounding it.

The tunnel concealed by the pivoting fireplace was now used only for easy wintertime transport of firewood into the meeting hall and as a swift, hidden route to the complex of caves where the Teknoguilders worked. Like other hidden passages at Obernewtyn, it was no longer a secret, although the incorrigibly curious Lina was convinced there were others and was forever to be found tapping the walls and listening for telltale hollowness.

Obernewtyn’s first master, the reculsive Lukas Seraphim, had been a morose and secretive man, and the great gray buildings reflected his personality.

Louis Larkin, the eldest of our number, had known the man who had carved Obernewtyn out of the wilderness on what was then the very fringe of the Blacklands. He said Lukas had possessed a mind that was as much a labyrinth as the greenthorn maze separating the main house from the farms.

As its current master, Rushton had made many changes to the main building to provide clear paths and better access to all parts of the rambling wings and levels. It had been his idea that each guild be allocated a certain section of Obernewtyn as its base and that the guild members make changes to their areas as they desired.

Though cavernous, the domed meeting room was kept warm by an enormous fire, and I seated myself in a chair near it, surreptitiously toasting my sore feet.