The Seeker (31 page)

The buzz of talk was louder than usual, partly because of the abrupt way Rushton had called the meeting and partly because it was a full guildmerge, with almost all wards, guildens, and guildleaders present. Even the irascible Garth had come, though he looked impatient and bored.

On the other side of the table sat Ceirwan, guilden of my own guild, still clad in riding clothes. I felt momentarily irritated by the guildmerge rule restricting communication during meetings to the spoken word, but I did not try to reach him.

Matthew took a seat opposite me and next to Dameon, the blind Empath guildmaster, who smiled at me unerringly, sensing my attention. Empaths could read emotions the way farseekers read thoughts, though few were actually able to converse mentally. Some empaths, like Dameon, could also transmit emotion. The twin Empath guilden, Miky and her brother, Angina, sat beside him, deep in animated discussion.

Rushton had walked to the head of the table and was talking to Domick, the Coercer ward. Next to him, Maryon sat staring into the distance, a slight smile on her lips. No one could mistake her for anything but a futureteller. She had come in with Matthew, but the seat between her and the Futuretell ward was empty. I wondered what was important
enough to keep the guilden, Christa, away.

Roland was alone in representing his guild. This was not unusual. The healers put their patients before anything else. Next, and completing the table, were the three members of the Beastspeaking guild—the master, Alad, looking unusually grim.

I was conscious of an expectant atmosphere among us as Rushton rose to speak, formally commencing the guildmerge. He invited those with business to raise their hand. Traditionally, Rushton spoke last. This meant that whatever had prompted the sudden guildmerge must wait until all other matters had been dealt with. His eyes widened speculatively at my hand among those few to rise.

Alad rose to speak, again raising the need for animals to be represented in guildmerge by one of their own. As before, no one could agree which animal should represent all animals and whether the animals should propose their own candidate. The increasing dominance of the volatile younger horses’ attitude was raised. With a hint of impatience, Rushton suggested the matter be addressed at the next guildmerge.

The Beastspeaking guildmaster frowned. “This is the third time it’s been put off. It’s time we dealt with this once and for all.”

“It will be dealt with. Next time,” Rushton said tersely.

“The animals themselves requested a decision one way or the other. There will be trouble if it is left any longer,” Alad said coldly.

Rushton lifted his brows questioningly. “Threats, Alad?”

The guildmaster shook his head. “Just a warning, Rushton. They have the right.”

Rushton said nothing, and Alad sat, looking disgruntled.
I was surprised at his persistence. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time until the animals had a representative. But the mention of trouble from the horses made me decide it was time I visited the farms again.

The Coercer guild then proposed a competition, a contest of coercer skills, pitting one against another until a champion could be announced. Master, guilden, and ward would be excluded. This resulted in a heated discussion about the value of competitiveness. The Futuretell ward, Dell, argued persuasively against it, saying it would produce antisocial and aggressive tendencies in an already aggressive guild.

“The aim of Obernewtyn is to have all minds working together for a common goal, not to isolate winners from losers and devalue those whose skills are less violent,” she said.

Roland was even more seriously opposed. Rushton interrupted what looked to be erupting into an argument to suggest the coercers draw up a plan for their proposed tournament. This would then be voted on by a full guildmerge.

At last he nodded to me, and I stood. “I request that the ban on Teknoguild expeditions be lifted,” I said.

Rushton frowned. He did not like anyone to step outside the procedures that governed guildmerge and made it run smoothly. “This is a strange request for the Farseeker guildmistress to make, Elspeth,” he said. “Surely it’s up to Garth, especially since he graces us with his presence today.”

There was a titter of humor, since everyone knew of the Teknoguild master’s reluctance to leave his laboratory. Garth scowled.

“This request also concerns my guild,” I said quietly.

Rushton’s eyes bored into mine. “What interest could you have in the Teknoguild expeditions? If I recall, you were among those to vote for the ban.”

I took a deep breath. “If the ban was lifted, I would propose a joint expedition.”

Rushton shook his head emphatically. “If I refuse to let teknoguilders kill themselves roaming on poisoned Blackland fringes, I would hardly let farseekers replace them!” he said with impatient sarcasm.

The death toll among teknoguilders had always been high. The ban had been enforced after a disastrous Teknoguild expedition in which Henry Druid’s people and the teknoguilders clashed over a newly discovered ruin on the edge of the Blackland. The argument had ended in a mysterious explosion that killed most of both parties. Either the Druids, as Henry Druid’s men named themselves, had deliberately set off a forbidden weapon, or some ancient device hidden in the ruins had been accidentally triggered. Either way, there had been no further Teknoguild expeditions, and no more had been seen of Henry Druid or his followers.

Henry Druid had been a Herder novice until he had opposed the Council’s book-burning laws. Cast out by the fanatical priests of the Herder Faction, the Druid had fled to exile in the high country and was assumed dead by most. And yet he lived. Rushton had even been befriended by the old ex-Herder, and for a time, their paths had matched. But the old man’s fierce hatred of the Council was exceeded only by his hatred of mutations, and in the end, it had become too dangerous to continue the connection.

Sometimes it made me uneasy that we had not heard anything of the Druid for so long. Like Alexi and Madam Vega, the renegade Herder had wanted power in the form of Beforetime weaponmachines. What if he were to discover the machines that could set off another Great White?

I choked off that train of thought. “The expedition we propose will not be to Blackland fringes.”

Rushton looked puzzled. “Then I don’t see any difficulty. Teknoguild expeditions were banned because they never want to go anywhere but the fringes. But that still doesn’t explain your interest. I would be surprised to find you had any aim in common with the Teknoguild.”

It was true I had often opposed their interests. Of all those at Obernewtyn, the abilities of Teknoguilders were hardest to define, being little more than a vague empathy for inanimate things, a slight power to move things by will alone, and a passionate interest in the past. The Teknoguild was the only one that had established its base outside Obernewtyn because the caves that housed it were the remains of a Beforetime establishment and contained a number of ancient machines.

Pavo’s request that I visit the cave network had been unexpected and unnerving. I had not been there since Alexi had tortured me with the Zebkrahn machine in his effort to force me to use my powers to locate an Oldtime weapons cache. In the end, I had gone, as much to lay my fears to rest as out of respect for Pavo, who was more concerned with understanding the Beforetimers than unearthing their mechanical secrets.

Also, I had been curious.

Returning to the cave had been a disturbing experience. The past had seemed to lie tangibly beneath the present, despite all that had changed. The passage into the cave network was now littered with boxes and sacks of Beforetime papers, books, and other relics unearthed in previous expeditions. The passage was well lit by candles set in sconces at regular intervals.

Coming from the sloping passage with its strangely
smooth walls into the main cave, I had been forced to stifle a gasp, having forgotten how big it all was and how bright the Beforetime sphere of light that lit the area. High up in the shadows, stalactites still hung, poised like spears. Yet it was also very different than I remembered. Woven rugs and thick mats softened cold floors, and the walls were almost covered with paper, scrawled with lists and notes and diagrams. Tables and chairs were occupied by busy teknoguilders, who barely registered my entrance.

Only the Zebkrahn machine had looked the same, though I knew it could no longer be used to coerce and torture, having long since been modified. Now it served as nothing more than an enhancer, enabling farseekers to double their normal range. Even so, my skin had risen to gooseflesh at the sight of it.

I thought of all this as I stood before the guildmerge. “Pavo asked me to come to the Teknoguild cave network this morning,” I began in answer to Rushton’s puzzlement.

The guilden gave a dry cough and rose. “It might be better if I explain, Guildmistress,” the Teknoguild ward offered diffidently.

As in the cave that morning, I was struck anew by his pallor.

“I did not know Elspeth would raise this matter today, and so I have not brought my notes; therefore, you will have to take my word on some matters,” Pavo said. “A while back, we uncovered evidence of an enormous book storage, which we believe might be untouched since the Beforetime. However, because of the ban, we set this matter reluctantly aside. Meanwhile, we succeeded in getting the Zebkrahn machine to penetrate the blocking static over tainted ground.” He paused to remind everyone that the machine, like farseekers, had been unable to project
through Blackland wastes; even the tainted ground at the borders of the Blacklands produced a static that limited our range to just beyond the mountains that surrounded Obernewtyn.

“It still only
locates
Talents—it won’t help us to communicate with them. But the machine is now able to monitor areas previously out of reach even to farseekers as strong as Elspeth, whose range is otherwise better than that of the machine,” Pavo said. “I thought it was necessary for Elspeth to see the machine—not to admire the new modification but so that she could see what it revealed.” Pavo looked at me, and all eyes swung expectantly my way.

I said obligingly, “The Zebkrahn was registering a Talent at its outermost limit.”

“But … that’s impossible. Th’ machine has to be focused through a farseeker,” Matthew objected.

Pavo shook his head eagerly. “Only to detect ordinary or weak Talents. That is to say, in most cases. But the Zebkrahn would need no farseeker focusing to register, for instance, Elspeth.”

“But … that means this Talent the Zebkrahn registers mun be as strong as she …,” Matthew said.

“Perhaps stronger,” Pavo corrected gently.

“Such a Talent would be worth rescuing,” interjected Gevan, guildmaster of the coercers.

“The two—the new Talent and the book storage Pavo told you about—are in the same region, and since it is so far away, we thought of a joint expedition,” I said.

There was a buzz of excited talk, but Rushton ignored it. “ ‘So far away’…” he repeated coldly. “Exactly how far?”

My mouth felt suddenly dry. “Somewhere between Aborium and Murmroth.”

There was silence, then someone sighed heavily. Aborium was on the west coast. The only known way to get there was to travel the main coast road, passing soldierguard camps and all the main towns, not to mention passing through Sutrium to reach the ferry that plied the Lower Suggredoon. And any expedition would be cut off from contact with Obernewtyn, as it would be far beyond the outer limits of even the most powerful farseekers.

Rushton’s face was tight with anger; he must have realized his brief words to me before the guildmerge had prompted me to propose the expedition. He knew that he could not dismiss my proposal when he meant to propose his own equally dangerous expedition.

“That would mean traveling through Sutrium and crossing the river by ferry,” Roland said brusquely. “A crazy, dangerous idea. Our false Certificates would not deceive the soldierguards for a moment.”

Pavo coughed again. “It is not necessary to journey through Sutrium.” He pulled one of the maps on the table toward him and spread it out. “I have a better map, but”—he pointed to the red circle denoting Obernewtyn—“the expedition would travel out of Obernewtyn and down the main road but would turn off to cut directly across the White Valley, then through an Olden pass between Tor and Aran Craggie in the lower mountain ranges and down to the lowlands. From there, it would be an easy trip across the Ford of Rangorn and down to the coast.”

Rushton examined the route. “You are sure this mountain pass exists? I have never heard of it.”

The teknoguilder nodded.

“T’would mean winterin’ outside maybe, unless an expedition were to leave at once,” Matthew said tentatively.

“It would be best to act at once,” Pavo said anxiously. “Think of what we might learn from an untouched collection of Beforetime books. And who knows what ability this Talent will bring to us.”

Rushton nodded for us to resume our seats, his expression inscrutable. His eyes swept the assembled faces. “Well,” he said at last, “I called this guildmerge for a particular reason, but Guildmistress Elspeth has preempted me. I, too, meant to propose an expedition. While in the high country these last few days, I heard rumors of men asking questions about Obernewtyn. Strangers—perhaps Councilmen, perhaps not. They were asking questions about the damage caused by the firestorm, wanting to speak to anyone who had actually seen Obernewtyn. This means the Council may know I lied about the storm. If so, we will be investigated, probably after the next thaw.”

There was a muffled howl of dismay.

“Or,” Rushton went on, “it may mean nothing. The problem is that we have no idea what they know. Up until now, we have striven to avoid any contact with the Council, to hide and grow in strength until we were powerful enough to confront them. We are not yet strong enough for that battle, or any sort of open confrontation, but it is time we moved on to the next stage of our plans.

“I called this meeting to propose an expedition to Sutrium, with the aim of finding out if we are in danger and if the Council has any real knowledge of our existence. We can no longer hide in the dark, shivering. We must look, in the next year, to establishing a safe house in the lowlands, preferably right in Sutrium.”