Obernewtyn

  Suddenly I could not stop myself from saying what I was thinking. "People, like you are the worst sort," I said in a low, furious voice that seemed to surprise him with its intensity. "You make everything so much worse with your sneering and snide comments. I do my work. Why don't you just leave me alone?"

  For a moment he looked taken aback, then he shrugged. "I hardly think the opinions of one stupid Misfit will worry me too much," he said.

  This time I did not reply. The weariness in my body had somehow crept into my spirit and I felt too old and tired for anger. Matthew and Dameon had returned in one of the earlier groups to the house so I waited silently at the gate, not speaking to the others standing there. I felt isolated and dispirited from the encounter with the farm overseer. He had taken a complete and irrational dislike to me. Again I thought how unlike Enoch he was. What a strange pair they were, to claim friendship. I wished I had thought to ask the old coachman more about him while I had the chance.

  Thinking of Enoch made me think of Maruman and wonder again where the story of a cat searching for a funaga had originated. If only he were safe with the friendly old coachman.

  But if he was not, then what was he doing in the mountains?

  XIV

  I was in one of the tower rooms at Obernewtyn, a room I had not seen before. It was very small and round. There was a small window and a door.

  I heard voices and realized Louis Larkin was outside. I was afraid he would catch me. I was hiding.

  Then I heard a strange keening noise, a grinding sound like metal against metal, only more musical. There was a note in the noise not unlike a scream.

  As I drifted awake, the noise seemed to carry on into my waking state. It was a tantalizingly familiar sound. Not something that I had ever heard in rny life but a sound mat sometimes came to me in dreams.

  Thunder rolled in the air.

  I opened my eyes unwillingly to see Cameo hasten into the room. I looked around but we were alone.

  "Are you all right?" Cameo said. "You yelled out and I was passing..." She faltered, unsure of her welcome.

  I smiled. "It was just a dream," I said yawning, and got out of bed. "I can't even remember what it was about now."

  Uninvited, Cameo sat on the edge and watched me dress. She seemed very pale. "I have dreams," she said in a strange, grave tone. I stared at her curiously for she did not mean ordinary dreams.

  "Nightmares," I suggested gently, thinking she had lost weight. She looked very small and pathetic and I saw a tear slide down her nose and drip onto clasped hands.

  "I have always dreamed," she said. "The things I dreamed .. .sometimes came true. That's why they sent me here. But they are getting worse. I dream something is trying to get me, something horrible and evil. And it's a true dream!" She wept

  "Perhaps you were mixed up. It probably wasn't true at all. I have heard it's hard to tell," I said.

  She looked up and a wave of exhaustion crossed her features making her look suddenly much older and wiser. "I get so tired," she said. "I try not to go to sleep because I'm scared."

  I hugged her and thought she reminded me of Mar-uman in one of his fits. He had sometimes frightened me and for a minute, I had been frightened by what Cameo was saying. My neck prickled and I looked up to see Ariel watching us from the open doorway. He had a peculiar expression on his face and he was watching Cameo.

  "What is going on here?" he asked sharply, but I had the impression he had been there for some time, and already knew. Cameo looked at her feet. In the early days, her liking of Ariel had puzzled me. But now she seemed uncertain. She would not look at him and I wondered if he had appeared in her nightmares.

  "What's meant to be going on?" I asked insolendy, hoping to draw his attention from her. I did not like the way he was watching her, like a hunter before he shot the killing arrow. But he only told us to hurry up since we had already missed firstmeal.

  Thunder rumbled all morning over the farms but no rain fell. The sky was a thick congested gray with streaks of milky white cloud strung low in fibers from east to west. I ate midmeal with little appetite, despite having missed firstmeal. A foreboding feeling filled me. I could not talk to Dameon and Matthew because two other boys sat near and engaged them in conversation.

  Before we went back to work, Matthew did manage to tell me quickly that the boys he had been talking to were special friends of Rushton's. He said he thought they were up to something and had been his most friendly to put them off.

  "He might be some sort of informer," Matthew said sofdy of Rushton. "He's been watching me quite a bit today, and Dameon. We'd better be careful. I wouldn't like anyone to find out about us. I can just imagine the Doctor wanting to try his treatments on us."

  I wanted to ask him about the treatments, but there was no chance, for Rushton had come out and was looking pointedly at us.

  Since my outburst in the milking sheds, he had been curt and cold in manner, but he did not say anything to me apart from giving me instructions. I had expected some punishment, but nothing happened. That afternoon I was to spend with Louis Larkin learning how to make butter. By now I had been working on the farms for several weeks. I spent quite a lot of time with Louis and was looking after the horses and some goats. Best of all I liked the time I spent alone with the horses. Sharna, whom I had found lived with Louis, usually spent that time with me.

  Midmeals I spent with Dameon and Matthew, and when it was safe, we talked, insatiably curious about the very different lives each of us had lived. Astonishingly, Dameon was the son of a Councilman, who had died leaving him vast properties. A nephew of the Councilman had conspired to have him declared Misfit. I was amazed at Dameon's lack of resentment. But he said he had never really felt like a Councilman's son. Because of his ability, he had always felt less than certain about his future. "And after all, ironically, I am a Misfit," he had laughed.

  Cameo sometimes came to work on the farms too, and sat with us at midmeal.

  Matthew was very protective of her and was quickly coming to be fond of her. I wondered what Dameon felt of this. It must be odd always to be feeling what other people felt. I wonder how he could tell the difference between other people's feelings and his.

  Midway through one afternoon later that week, Matthew came to the milking shed with a message for Louis and stayed on talking. Usually Louis discouraged gossip during work time but that day he seemed inclined to conversation.

  "Any news?" Matthew asked casually.

  Louis was a fountain of Highland news. It was hard to tell where he got it from, since he appeared to hate almost everyone. I suspected some of it came via Enoch, who was certain to know the old Misfit.

  "Nowt much," he said.

  Matthew grinned at me and waited, and presently the old man went on. "Rumor says something is gannin on in th' Highlands." Our interest quickened as he took his pipe out for it was a sure sign he was in an expansive mood.

  "I've known for an age, something was up. It was in th' air. Lots of strangers up in the high country, sayin' they lived out a way when it was a lie. Tis nowt enough just to listen to what people tells ye. Ye have to look in their eyes an' watch what they do. An' them folk belongs to th' towns."

  I exchanged a puzzled look with Matthew as Louis relit his pipe. I wished we could get him to talk about Ober-newtyn but he always shied away from that.

  "Ye don't believe they live up here?" Matthew prompted.

  "Think, boy," Louis retorted with sudden scorn. "What would town folk be doin' up here? They're up to some mischief."

  I had an odd thought. "I heard Henry Druid lived up there still; that he wasn't dead. Maybe it's the Council looking for him in secret," I suggested.

  The old man looked at me sharply. " 'Tis nowt th' Council, I'll say that straight. They stay away from th' mountains. They get paid to stay out, mostly."

  "I thought he was dead," Matthew said, looking at me curiously. I had not told them about Daffyd, the boy I had met in the Councilcourt I remem
bered him quite clearly, not handsome but with a nice smile and a face full of character. Odd that a relative stranger should have made such an indelible impression on me.

  "He might be alive at that," Louis said.

  Matthew looked at me, sending a quick thought that trouble in the Highlands would detract attention from any escapes. We had spoken of escape but not with any real intention.

  "Do you think it is him, then?" I asked.

  "I dinna know," Louis said, disappointingly.

  Matthew persisted. "Th' last really big battle was his defection, wasn't it?"

  Louis frowned. "Aye. That'd be some ten years now. A long time ago," he said after a pause.

  "Well, he could be planning to take over the Council," Matthew said.

  But this time Louis shook his head definitely. "No. I dinna think that's it. Henry Druid must be over forty now. Not a hothead any more. He was smart, I heard, and smart turns into cunning when ye get old. He'd never win in an outright battle against th' soldierguards. He'd find some other way. His son an' his daughters was killed in th' troubles. He would hate th' Council enough, to be sure," Louis added.

  "What was it all over, anyway?" asked Matthew.

  "Nobody knows for sure what started it," Louis answered. "Ye''ll hear th' Council say he was a seditious rebel settin' to take over an' drag the land back into the Age of Chaos, but that's only one side to th' story an' Henry Druid ain't here to talk in his defense. But he was a scholar an' a Herder, not a soldier. I dinna think he would even consider war. Not unless he were sure of winnin'."

  "I heard he was a Herder," I said. "No wonder there was such a fuss. It was all over forbidden books, wasn't it?"

  Louis nodded his head approvingly. "Aye. That's what began it. The Council decided to burn all Oldtime books. Henry Druid had a huge collection of books, an' he looked after th' Herder library too. The Herders agreed but Henry Druid refused. He was a popular man an' he called on friends to help him. I dinna think he had any idea of what would happen. The soldiers killed some of his friends and burned his whole house down, books an' all. The Herder Faction disowned him and they were plannin' to execute Henry Druid as an example. But he escaped with some followers an' no one's seen them since. Leastways, no one who's talkin'," he added craftily.

  "It seemed a good idea at th' time, to burn all th' books that had caused th' Oldtimes to go wrong. But now... I ain't so sure." Louis's eyes were troubled as if he recalled some long past battle with himself.

  "He should have been able to keep th' books," Matthew declared, ever the advocate of the Beforetime.

  "I dinna know about that either," Louis said sternly. "There's none alive to say whether th' books were th' cause or nowt. An' maybe Henry Druid only wanted a look at th' past an' had no mind to seek trouble. Then again, maybe he was after some of th' power th' Old-timers had. Time was when everyone wanted that an' I reckon th' Council had th' right idea in sayin' th1 Oldtimers had gone th' wrong way. It seemed like a good idea that people kept from startin' it all again. But then th' Council changed..." He sighed. "Everything changed."

  "How do you mean changed?" Matthew asked.

  "Everything was changed by the Great White," Louis told him, almost gently. "Even th' seasons have changed. Once they were all a similar length. Nothing is like it was in th' Beforetime. The Great White killed th' Beforetime, an' it woke lots of queer things. It ain't th' same world now."

  "I don't believe people have changed," Matthew said defiantly, obviously taking Louis's words for criticism of the past.

  "People," Louis said with great contempt. "They've changed all right. Pity is in some ways they're still as they were—greedy, grasping, selfish. They're th' things ye have to stamp out if ye want th' world to be better. No, 'tis in other ways people have changed, an' who's to say if that's to the good, either."

  "How do you mean changed?" I asked, very carefully. But Louis would not answer.

  "You mean th' magic is gone?" Matthew asked.

  "Magic! Pah!" Louis scoffed. "I dinna think for one moment they was any more magic than thee. Not th' sort of magic ye find in fairy stories anyhow. Some of th' things they could do might seem like magic to us now. But 'tis my feeling they was just mighty clever people— too clever for their own good."

  "Well, I think they were magic!" Matthew said stubbornly. "An' I think Lud never destroyed them at all."

  That was as close as you could get to outright Sedition, and to Louis, who we all agreed was interesting but probably not to be trusted.

  But the old man only puffed at his pipe for a minute. "Boy," he said finally. "Ye mun be careful of what ye say, It ain't safe to be blatherin' out every crazy notion. As to what ye said, well, ye could be right. But if ye are, then who made th! Great White? Yer wonderful Before-timers, that's who."

  Matthew's face was stricken and he did not answer.

  "Do you think the Beforetime is all gone?" I asked, voicing some inner longing of my own.

  "I dinna know," Louis said. "Seems so, an' excepting a few wild tales, it might be so. Sure enough th' people are gone. But maybe they left some things hidden, even from each other, so th' Great White didn't destroy them, an' th' Council didn't find them. Maybe there might be something left, but just in case Matthew is right an' th' holocaust were man-made, it might be better to leave that stuff hidden. After all, we dinna want to be finding out how they did it."

  "But we wouldn't have to use the magic like they did," Matthew said at last.

  Louis shook his head. "Dinna say it, lad. Ye dinna know what ye'd do. Power has a way of... changin' a person. In th' end, what would all that power do to yer good intentions?"

  XV

  Thoughts of escape began to plague me.

  It might have been partly discovering I was no freak that hardened the notion that life seemed worth more than just endurance. Obernewtyn hadn't turned out as badly as I had thought, but any way you looked at it the place was still a prison and I wanted to be free. I wanted to find Maruman and make a home for us.

  Then something happened to make me determined to go. I had begun having nightmares. Dreams so full of horror and fear that, like Cameo, I was afraid to sleep. One day I had a terrible premonition. As usual it did not seem to be connected to anything, but coupled with the dreams which, though not true dreams, were somehow significant, I sensed trouble ahead.

  Later that same day the promise of rain was fulfilled with a vengeance. The raindrops were big and forceful. Everyone took shelter and glumly watched them pelt down. Those in the orchards ran for the nearest buildings and even the cows and horses came under cover. It was impossible to work or go back to the main house, so we just sat there. I milked the few cows remaining and listened to the thunderous noise the rain made on the tin roof. The day's disquiet left me and I felt soothed. The downpour stopped obligingly just before we were due to go back through the maze.

  I was waiting for Louis to come and start the separator as the others made their way to the maze gate. Ariel was waiting by the time I ran to join the others. I was surprised by the air of gloom among them all. Then one of the girls leaned near and whispered, "Madam Vega has returned. Ariel just told us." Her eyes were frightened and I felt that old fluttery terror come back into my stomach.

  It wasn't as if anything had really changed, but all at once I realized what had struck me about the atmosphere at Obernewtyn since I had come here. It had been waiting...

  XVI

  I had thought I would be interviewed by Madam Vega at once. But as the days passed much as before I wondered whether I could have been wrong about the premonition.

  Then I discovered something that drove my nagging worry over the head keeper to the back of my thoughts. Dameon told me he heard Cameo had been receiving "treatments" since Madam Vega's return. Questioning Matthew and Dameon, I found none of us knew what the treatments were, except that they were supposed to be helping Misfits to become normal. Dameon said he had heard a rumor they were some sort of shock intended to st
imulate the mind. He said the treatments were supposed to be terribly harsh. I found it odd and rather frightening that so little was known of the treatments given to so many. I resolved to keep my ears open.

  Strangest of all was Cameo's reaction when I asked about her visits to the Doctor's chamber. She just stared at me in surprise and said she didn't know what I was talking about. With anyone else I might have thought they were lying, but not Cameo. She was not made for guile. I thought Dameon's informant must have been mistaken.

  Then someone else told me they had seen Cameo being taken by Ariel to the Doctor's chamber. That might explain her change in attitude to the boy. Perhaps she had true dreamed of him taking her there. Again I asked her about it, but she was so obviously confused that I did not go on. She was definitely telling what she thought was the truth. Somehow she was blocking the rest from her conscious mind.

  I wondered why the Doctor would want to treat Cameo. Everyone seemed to think he was only interested in unusual cases. Apart from her mental simplicity, and a tendency to true dream, which almost all Misfits have, she was quite ordinary.

  I was even more surprised to hear that no one seemed to know what the mysterious Dr. Seraphim looked like. Dameon said he had never seen the Master of Obernew-tyn. He said he thought those who had been to the Doctor had been prevented from talking about what they saw or the treatments they received. I could not imagine why there was any need for the Master of Obernewtyn to keep his practices secret, unless they were so horrible that it would create trouble among the Misfits.

  The whole idea of treatments to make us like ordinary people was irrational anyway. There must be something more behind it, and the passion for secrecy of the Master of Obernewtyn. Who ever heard of a master that never appeared? Remembering the comments of the Councilman in Sutrium, I knew I was not alone in wondering what really went on at Obernewtyn.

  As to Cameo's apparent ignorance of what happened to her, Dameon told me he thought it might have something to do with an Oldtime technique called hypnosis, which sounded to me like coercing. I had not outlined my ability in that area to Dameon or Matthew, feeling they might react uncomfortably to a companion capable of tampering with their minds. Dameon went on to say he believed someone had made it impossible for Cameo to remember what had happened to her using this hypnosis, since I would have been able to detect a lie or evasion. And that suggested that all those who had visited the Doctor and received treatments had been similarly made to forget.