Page 12 of The Seeker


  “They were burned by the Herders?”

  I nodded again, aware that he must have read my record, too.

  “You dream true?” he asked.

  “Sometimes,” I said, but my voice came out as a croak.

  “Are you able to know what people feel or think before they tell you?” he asked.

  My heart almost stopped, but I managed to shake my head.

  “Can you sometimes sense things that have happened before, in rooms or … or from an object?”

  I shook my head again.

  “What was the crime of your parents?” he asked. “For what were they charged?”

  “Sedition,” I said.

  Without warning, he leapt to his feet, knocking the chair he had been sitting in to the ground with a great clatter. “She is useless. When will the right one be found?” he snarled.

  “The blond girl …,” the doctor quavered, but Alexi shut him up with a poisonous look.

  “My dear Alexi,” said Madam Vega, emerging from behind some of the shelves. “I have been looking for you.”

  Alexi stalked over to her. “This one is impossibly stupid. I have enough idiocy to endure without your bringing me another fool. Why did you bring her here?”

  “I already told you what happened. And she is here now because Stephen wanted to see her,” Madam Vega said in a soft but steely voice, nodding toward the doctor.

  It was all I could do to stop myself from gaping at the doctor, who hovered nearby, smiling too much and wringing his hands anxiously as he watched his so-called assistant rage. For Stephen Seraphim was the name of the current Master of Obernewtyn. But how could this ineffectual young man be legal master of anything?

  “Does it not occur to you that stupidity is easily feigned?” Madame Vega was saying to Alexi now. “The one we seek would be clever enough to pretend stupidity or that she is no more than a dreamer and a defective. Have a care, someday you will make a fatal error in your impatience.”

  “Are you trying to tell me this creature is the one we are looking for?” Alexi snapped.

  “Of course not. I have told you this one was a mistake, but there are others that might seem no less foolish,” she added calmly.

  “This last fiasco—” Alexi began, but Vega soothed him.

  “We will speak of that matter later,” she said, her eyes sliding pointedly to where I sat. She moved closer to me, her expression vaguely threatening. She studied me speculatively for a moment, and then crooked a finger at me. She waited until I had risen, then grasped my chin in hard, cold fingers.

  “It is not wise to speak of this visit to the doctor, Elspeth. You will be most regretful if I hear that you have gossiped of this visit. Indeed, it would be better if you forgot altogether.” She stared hard into my eyes, and for a moment her mind seemed to brush against mine. I was shocked to realize that she was not just sensitive to Misfit powers like mine—she possessed a small ability herself. Though probably unaware of her power, it was what made her such a good hunter of Misfits.

  I managed to keep my face bland. Finally, she released my chin and said, “In the meantime, remember what I have said about your friends.” I felt a chill at the underlying menace of her tone and did not doubt for one moment that she would carry out the implied threat.

  Returning with Sly Willie to work in the kitchens for the remainder of the day, I understood the reason that people were prevented from speaking about their visits to the doctor. It wasn’t to hide the truth about his treatments. It was to ensure no one knew that control of Obernewtyn had fallen to Madam Vega and Alexi.

  16

  THE NEXT MORNING dawned warm and fair, but I woke with the memory of the previous day lodged inside my mind like an icicle radiating coldness. I dressed hastily and went to the kitchen, but before I could begin to tell Matthew anything of what had happened with the doctor, he told me Ariel had returned.

  “Selmar?” I asked, thinking of what Louis had said.

  He shook his head, saying there was still no sign of her. I noticed several people seated close were listening avidly to us, and I decided to save my own news until midmeal on the farms, where we could ensure that we would not be overheard. It had occurred to me the night before that I was unlikely to be the only person Madam Vega had set to spy.

  In the fields that morning, we all toiled hard, bringing in the harvest. Every spare Misfit was on the farms now, and each of the sections was alive with activity. To my delight, later in the morning Matthew and I were among those sent out to bale a field of hay. Baling was a two-person job, and whenever we were at the end of our row, we were far enough from the other teams to be able to talk.

  “Where is Dameon?” I asked, for although he had come to the farms with us, I had not seen him since.

  “He was assigned to th’ dryin’ rooms,” Matthew said. “We’re spread too thin over too many jobs. It was like this last year, too. It seems like a big fuss, but wintertime is really a killer in the mountains. Ye ken that stranger that Sly Willie brought to th’ kitchen yesterday? Well, I saw him talking to Rushton later in th’ day,” Matthew said.

  I scowled, certain the overseer had reported our friendship to Madam Vega. On the other hand, it seemed likely to me that his conversation with the stranger had only concerned the broken plow I had heard him mention to Louis some days before. I said so to Matthew, who looked disappointed. I could not help but think crossly that there were more than enough mysteries and plots at Obernewtyn without longing for more.

  “So what happened in th’ doctor’s chamber, or don’t you remember?” Matthew asked at last.

  I drew a deep breath and told Matthew that I had only been questioned. “The doctor is too busy to be bothered with me at the moment, but he plans to get back to me later.” I glanced around to make sure no one had come close enough to hear us, adding, “Madam Vega made it very clear that there would be unpleasant consequences if I talked about my visit. I think that must be how they shut up people who only go there once. As for those the doctor treats, well, maybe Dameon is right about hypnosis.” In fact, I was no longer convinced hypnosis had been used on anyone. Madam Vega had told me to forget about my visit to the doctor, at the same time exerting her coercive ability. A normal person given that command would simply obey her and forget, but my own abilities had deflected her. I could not speak about any of this to Matthew without mentioning my own talent in this area. I would eventually do so, I promised myself, but not yet.

  “What else happened?” Matthew urged.

  “Madam Vega asked me to keep a watch for Misfits who were unusual.”

  Matthew paled. “Us?” he gasped.

  “People like us. I’m sure she didn’t suspect me. My being here is a mistake according to her. The doctor only wanted to see me because they believe my tainted-water ruse, and he was curious about the effect of the accident.”

  Matthew laughed incredulously. “What is he like?” he asked.

  I frowned. “He is defective,” I said. “And he is the Master of Obernewtyn.”

  Matthew stopped working and gave me a look of disbelief. “He can’t be. It’s against Council lore fer a defective to inherit.”

  “Exactly why they wouldn’t want us talking about our visits to him,” I whispered fiercely.

  “But … then who is runnin’ Obernewtyn?” Matthew asked.

  “Madam Vega and …” I stopped, uncertain of the relationship between Alexi and Madam Vega. And she was careful to humor the doctor. Clearly she did not want to alienate him.

  “Madam Vega an’ who?” Matthew prompted impatiently.

  I swallowed. “There was an older man in the doctor’s chamber, called Alexi. The doctor—Stephen Seraphim—called him his assistant, but he didn’t act like anyone’s assistant. He acted like he was the master and he could barely be bothered with the doctor. Madam Vega fussed over him as if he was important. I think they are in league, and they keep the doctor as a sort of tame pet.”

  “But what about the tr
eatments?” Matthew asked. “Surely a defective …”

  “The doctor spoke of treating Cameo, and from what he said, he treated Selmar, too. But Alexi talked as if he was involved as well.”

  “Maybe they are both treating her in different ways,” Matthew said. We fell silent as we passed another baling team.

  I thought of the questions Alexi had asked me before losing his temper. Then I thought of Madam Vega instructing me to keep watch for Misfits that were more than they seemed, and a chill ran through me. “Matthew, what if they thought Cameo was like us and hiding it?”

  “But why would they care?” Matthew asked. He gave me a quick warning look, and another couple passed behind us. When they were out of earshot, he leaned close and said softly, “We have to get away from here.” I knew he was thinking of Cameo, and nodded.

  The bell for midmeal rang, and I joined Dameon while Matthew went to stand in line for our food. I had time to tell the empath what had happened the previous day before Matthew returned, practically stuttering with excitement. “Ye’ll never guess!” he cried. “Selmar is back! Sly Willie told me Ariel brought her back. He says a new Misfit has arrived, too.”

  “Was he telling the truth?” I asked cautiously.

  “Oh yes, I think so. He said she was defective by mischance, and the Councilmen want her healed.”

  “Selmar?” I asked, puzzled.

  Matthew shook his head. “The new Misfit.”

  “I meant was he telling the truth about Selmar?” I asked patiently.

  “No gain in him lying,” Matthew said.

  I noticed Cameo standing in the shadow by the maze wall, watching us. “Where have you come from?” I asked her gently, bringing her over to sit down. She did not answer, and when I saw her eyes I realized she was in some sort of trance.

  “Something terrible is going to happen,” she whispered. She looked straight into my eyes. “They are looking for you. They want you. They want your power.…” She slumped forward in a dead faint.

  “Oh, Cam,” Matthew whispered, and gathered her up into his arms.

  I stared at them, my mind whirling.

  “She is delirious,” Dameon tried to assure me. “She does not know what she is saying.”

  But it was hard to believe it was a coincidence. Madame Vega had talked about looking for someone, and now Cameo said someone was looking for me. Suddenly I remembered that Maruman had talked of something waiting for me in the mountains.

  Dameon shuddered violently.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, quelling the ripples of fear that ran down my spine.

  Dameon looked pale. “It cannot be helped. You are in danger?”

  “I think we are all in danger,” I said. “They’re looking for people like us.”

  Dameon’s face took on a determined look. “Then we must get away from here before it is too late.”

  “What about Cameo?” Matthew asked.

  “Cameo will recover, if we get her away,” Dameon said decisively. “There is no time to lose. We must make our plans and act swiftly, lest we be trapped by the winter, for the pass to the lowlands is closed by the first blizzards and remains impassible until spring.”

  “We need to know more about the mountains, because we can’t make straight for the lowland pass after we get away,” I said. “It would be too obvious, and we would be captured even before we reached it.” I told them about the maps I had seen in the doctor’s chamber. “If we had a map of the area, there might even be another pass through the mountains that would keep us off the main road.”

  “Who will lead us if yer caught stealin’ into the doctor’s chamber?” Matthew interjected.

  “There are those made to lead and those to follow,” I said slowly. “And there are those who walk a lone path, to scout the way ahead. I am a scout at heart. We need someone smart and steady and wise to be our leader. Dameon would be my choice.”

  “But I am blind,” Dameon said, visibly astonished.

  “You are not blind when true seeing is wanted,” I said. “You will lead us with those cautious instincts of yours and not be led astray by false paths.”

  “Oh, wise and tricky Elspethelf,” Matthew laughed. Cameo stirred in his arms, and he looked down at her with quick concern until she settled. Then he looked from me to Dameon, his expression sober. “Ye know I’d follow either of ye, so maybe I am a follower. But if Dameon is leader an’ says ye mun nowt go to th’ doctor’s chamber, ye mun obey him.”

  “Well?” I asked Dameon, somewhat defiantly.

  Dameon shook his head slowly. “I will accept the role of leader for now, but I wish you had not given me the power of veto, Matthew, for I must disappoint you. If Elspeth can find a map, it would be worth some risk. Also, you might look out for an arrowcase. Do you know what that is?”

  I nodded. “A thing of metal to point the direction,” I said. “My father said the Beforetimers called it a compass.”

  “No good will come of this,” Matthew said darkly as Cameo woke. She struggled from his arms and stood up, seemingly unaware of her collapse or her words prior to that.

  Matthew watched her go sadly.

  I worked alone that afternoon, cleaning and oiling bridles and saddles and other equipment for storage. I was glad of the time alone to think. No wonder there were so few permanent guardians, and temporary guardians were not permitted to stay at the main house. No wonder official visitors were discouraged. I wondered suddenly what would happen if a visiting party of Councilmen from the lowlands did come up to Obernewtyn unannounced, for they rarely traveled without an escort of soldierguards. Was that why Madam Vega kept Stephen Seraphim content? So he could be brought out at need? In a brief and artfully handled interview, his defective mind might not be apparent.

  By the time I went to the evening meal, I had made up my mind to go to the doctor’s chamber that very night.

  Then I saw Selmar.

  Ariel led her into the kitchens. She moved like a puppet, and when Ariel went away from her, she sat without moving. Her face was bloodless. Even her lips were white, and her eyes stared blankly ahead as if she was as blind as Dameon. But unlike the empath, her face was empty of all expression. She was like a body without a mind.

  Cameo was sitting at the same table as Selmar, and her eyes were fixed on the older girl. She looked terrified.

  17

  THE HALLS WERE chill and silent as I slipped along them in stocking feet. I encountered many closed doors, but their locks were simple enough to require very little power, and I did not let myself become discouraged by the amount of time it was taking me to get to the doctor’s chamber. The sight of Selmar had been enough to make me absolutely determined to find a map.

  At last I reached the entrance hall. Slipping across it, I hesitated, for there were several hallways leading off from it. But only one was lit by greenish candles. I hurried along it to the door at the end, then into the waiting room where Willie had left me. I listened at the door that led to Madam Vega’s office before unlocking it. There was neither fire nor candles, but the room was bright with moonlight coming through the windows behind the desk. I crossed the room and felt for the latch that worked the door in the paneling alongside the fireplace. I would have liked to leave it open, but it was too much of a risk. Stepping into the musty hall, I closed it and was plunged into inky blackness. I groped my way along the short hall to the other door. This time I exerted a tiny farsensing probe to make sure the chamber beyond was empty. I could sense no one, but that did not mean the doctor or someone else was not there, sleeping. It was almost impossible to sense a sleeping presence.

  I opened the door carefully and froze at the sight of firelight flickering on the walls. But then I saw that there was only a dying fire in the enormous hearth, and no lanterns or candles. I glanced around the room and my eyes fell on the portrait of Marisa Seraphim. Closing the door behind me, I crossed the room to look more closely at it.

  The dim, shifty light cast by the flames made it se
em as if her eyes followed me. I thought she looked less cold than before. Indeed, it seemed to me now that there was a gleam of amusement in the set of her mouth and heavily lidded yellow eyes. Reminding myself that I had not come to look at a painting, I turned to scan the room, trying to remember where I had spotted the maps. The trouble was that there were so many books and papers. So many tables and shelves. A closer look revealed that I had been right in thinking many of the books had come from the Beforetime. Such books were forbidden now, but there had been a time when the ban had not been so strict and unilateral. This collection must have been amassed in that time. Impulsively, I reached out and took one from the shelves. As I remembered from the few tattered books my mother had possessed, the pages were thin and silky smooth and the scribing impossibly small and perfect. Who could guess how long it had taken to scribe it?

  The book itself turned out to be uninteresting being filled with diagrams, symbols, and words that made no sense to me. On the book’s spine I read “Basic Computer Programming” without comprehension. The next book I took up was much the same, except that the diagrams were beautifully colored.

  Faintly disappointed, I moved to a different section of the shelves and took out more books at random. Many had been underlined and notated in a neat, sharp script in the margins, but none of them said anything I could understand. It seemed to me that there were as many numbers as words in them. Whatever they were about, I finally concluded, they were a far cry from the Oldtime storybooks and fictions my mother had read to Jes and me.

  Suddenly I remembered where I had seen the maps. They had been on a table by the fire, where the doctor had rummaged for a pencil. My memory proved accurate, but the maps were of little use, being only badly tattered Beforetime maps. But on one I noticed that the spaces between places were covered in small faded ink notes in the same handwriting as in the Beforetime books. Maps of the Beforetime were nothing but curios, and yet someone clearly had been making an immense and determined effort to find some place that had existed in the Beforetime. A vain thing to attempt, for everyone knew the shape of the world had been changed forever by the Great White.