The Dreamtrails (60 page)

Bidding her be careful not to be seen, for her mistress had offered a reward for her return, I withdrew and set a swifter pace, wondering if Stonehill would be high enough to gain any farseeking advantage. For some reason that even Garth could not yet explain, it was easier to farseek farther when higher than the person whose mind you wished to reach. The greater the height, the farther the reach. Of course, Stonehill
was probably not high at all, for what heights had west coasters to compare it with? The so-called mountains upon whose feet Murmroth stood were really only the tail end of a string of peaks running away from a great range of Blackland mountains. Still, it was worth trying to farseek the Misfits at the Beforetime ruins, for now that I knew the null was Domick, I was more anxious than ever to have Jak’s advice on how Domick might be treated.

It was close to dusk before I saw what I first took to be a mass of smoke some way down the beach but which soon revealed itself as a great tower of rocks. Realizing this must be Stonehill, it was not until I was closer that I could see that it was not a mound of stones but a single massive tor, which reminded me of the stone pinnacles where the Agyllians dwelt in the highest mountains. Garth had once said that such pillars were actually the insides of ancient mountains and that these rocks had burst up from the fires at the heart of the world and cooled to such hardness that they had remained when the earth surrounding them had worn away. This hill of stone was higher than the wall about the Herder Compound on Herder Isle and looked to have the surface area of Obernewtyn’s farms, but how would one scale such a sheer monolith?

The sun set just as I reached the foot of the immense tor, and I stopped to farseek Rawen. She told me apologetically that she had been delayed trying to cross the road unseen but that she was even now galloping toward me. I sent her a mind picture of Stonehill, and it was not an hour before I heard the sound of hooves coming up behind me. Rawen pranced to a halt, her mind anticipating the heady and unaccustomed pleasures of the fresh grass she had scented atop the tor. There was a hectic excitement in her mind that had
been absent when I had first entered it, and it occurred to me that her easy acceptance of captivity and the saddle, and her readiness to do the bidding of others, might have ended now that she had tasted freedom. Nevertheless, she insisted I mount her for the ride up to Stonehill, saying that she had scented a way up but that it was very steep at the outset.

The place she brought us to was so sharp an incline that I doubted any horse would be capable of scaling it. Rawen assured me so confidently that she could do it that I mounted up, telling myself that Erit would not have suggested I come to Stonehill unless it was possible to climb it.

Rawen cantered back some distance from the hill, explaining that she needed a run-up to gain speed enough for the first part of the climb. My heart leapt into my mouth as she turned and galloped full pelt at the dark bulk of the hill, for although she radiated confidence, at that speed, bones would be broken—hers and mine—if we fell. But Rawen did not falter, despite the steep incline. She leapt like a mountain goat from jutting stone to jutting stone, her sure-footedness surpassing anything I had ever seen. After a short terrifying period in which I did little more than close my eyes and cling to the mare’s back, the way flattened slightly, and Rawen’s speed decreased. I opened my eyes and saw that we had reached a narrow switchback ledge that soon widened to a trail. I did not dare look down, but gradually I relaxed and began to feel the beauty of the sea-scented night.

At length, Rawen stopped, saying she needed to rest. Dismounting carefully, I looked up and noticed that the hill flattened out only a little higher up. Refusing Rawen’s offer to carry me again, I bade her go on at her own pace. I would climb up directly and meet her at the top. She obeyed and was soon lost to view.

At first the way was steep and difficult, and I wondered if I had made a mistake in not staying with Rawen, but in a short while, the slope flattened. When I stopped to catch my breath, I decided to try farseeking the Beforetime ruins. Some impulse made me shape a probe to Merret’s mind as I sent it in the direction of the ruins. To my surprise, it veered away toward the coast and located. I was immediately conscious of Merret’s amazed disbelief.

“Elspeth?!” The strength of the coercer’s clumsy but powerful farseeking probe made me clutch my head in pain.

“Ouch! Of course it is me,” I sent sharply.

“Sorry!” she sent just as loudly, then I felt her make an effort to restrain her mind—never easy for coercers. “Sorry,” she said again. “I was just so … But where are you?”

“I am on the west coast,” I sent. “I came by sea, and I am just outside Halfmoon Bay on the Aborium side. I was trying to throw my mind to you in the ruins and the probe veered sideways.”

“I am on my way to Aborium,” Merret sent, her mindvoice again growing strident with excitement. “But what do you mean you came by sea? How many of you are here? How many ships?”

“There are no ships,” I told her. “You know, of course, that the rebellion was won on the other side of the river?”

“We know a good deal more than that because of Dell’s foretellings, though not all is clear. Is it true that Rushton was found in the Sutrium cloister cell and is once again Master of Obernewtyn?”

“It is, but let me give you some memories. It will be quicker than trying to explain; then we will talk.”

Merret made her mind passive, and I evoked a series of memories that covered the main events since I had left
Obernewtyn. I concluded with a vision of the One’s revelations about Ariel’s plague null.

Merret’s anger swelled so strongly that it almost dislodged me. “I am sorry, Elspeth,” she sent. “But why would even Ariel do such a foul thing?”

“I do not know,” I said. “But that is not the worst of it.” I showed her the memory I had taken from Rolf’s mind, of Domick passing through the sea market with Ariel.

Merret’s mind boiled with emotions, but she swiftly mastered herself to say, “So it is Domick who carries this plague, and he is in Halfmoon Bay.… Ye gods! The masked moon fair! Half the coast is headed there!”

“I am sure Ariel realized that,” I told her bleakly. “But don’t worry; I do not think that Domick is contagious yet. Ariel would not have wanted to risk the sickness incapacitating his carrier before the moon fair begins. I think he probably infected him in Halfmoon Bay. The girl who saw them enter the Faction house together said he was there for several hours.”

“Then we are all doomed anyway,” Merret sent.

“No,” I said. “If you gather the others and go to the Beforetime ruins and remain there, you will be safe even if the plague does break out, so long as you allow no one to join you. It will be less than a moon before it will be over, because eventually a plague that kills everyone will kill all carriers. If you act quickly, you will have time enough to warn the rebels. But you need to tell them that unless they can convince or force the Councilmen to close their cities immediately, they had better ride out with supplies and set up desert camps away from everyone until it is over.”

“You are going to stay to find Domick?” Merret guessed.

“I know where he is,” I sent. “The man whose mind I
showed you is helping me. He has a friend who has located Domick in a Faction house not far from the piers. I do not know whether he is a prisoner or a guest, but they promised to help me reach him. They say it will be best to act in the very early morning, for half the population will be abed, sleeping off tonight’s indulgences.”

“The city is a cesspit, because Councilman Kana is greedy and unscrupulous and will stoop to anything to line his pockets,” said Merret in distaste.

“It does not matter,” I said. “It is my intention that by midday tomorrow, with their help, I will be well away from Half-moon Bay with Domick.”

“This Erit is a child,” Merret protested, for she had seen him in my mind.

“And what were we when we took over Obernewtyn?” I snapped. “Erit has already proven himself by finding out where Domick is staying.”

“He and this metalworker know everything?”

“So far they know almost nothing. They think I am a rebel trying to rescue another rebel who has some sort of weapon. But tonight I will tell them that I am a Misfit, and I will tell them about the plague that Domick carries.”

“You trust them.” A statement rather than a question.

“Without their help, I would still be seeking Domick, for his mind is closed to me.”

“Even so, I will ride to Halfmoon Bay. I can be there by tomorrow morning,” Merret sent decisively.

“No,” I said. “I need you to warn the others and the rebels.”

“I can do both,” Merret replied. “I am riding to Aborium to meet Gwynedd and some of the newer rebel leaders. All the original rebel leaders were killed in the Night of Blood,
save Serba, Tardis, and Yavok. Then Yavok was murdered, Tardis died not a month after, and Gwynedd became the leader of what remains of the rebel network.”

I did not bother to explain that I knew about Gwynedd saying only, “It is extremely fortunate that you are about to meet Gwynedd.”

“Not truly,” Merret responded. “We have been meeting once every sevenday this last twomonth.”

“Then we are fortunate that this is the day. Tell Gwynedd that Dardelan would have come to their aid sooner, but all the ships were burned during the rebellion, and when the rebels built more, they, too, were destroyed, probably by Malik’s men.”

“I do not think Gwynedd will be much surprised by Malik’s new treachery. No more am I. But though he will be interested to hear of what has been happening on Herder Isle, I think he and the other rebels will be more concerned about what you intend to do with Domick once you have him.”

“I will ride with him out onto the plain on the other side of the main road where there is no danger of anyone running into me by chance. Then I will make camp and care for him.”

“But, Elspeth, if you are with him when the plague becomes contagious …” Merret began.

“Someone must be. Why should it not be me?” I said tersely. I knew that I could not avoid the heroic light that would be cast on my actions, but I was probably the only one who would survive the plague because of what the Agyllions had taught my body. I went on, “Tell Jak everything and see what he advises as treatment for Domick. If there are medicines that will ease his pain or heal him, you can leave them some distance from the camp, and I will walk out to get them.”

“Elspeth, this is absurd. You cannot do this alone. As soon as I speak to Gwynedd and the others, I will come to Half-moon Bay to help you. Blyss is already in Aborium, and she can ride back and speak with Jak.”

I wanted to refuse, but in truth, I might need help. “Come, then, but remain outside the city. I will farseek you if necessary,” I said, growing mentally exhausted now. It was always a battering business to sustain a farsought conversation with a coercer. And sharing memories was tiring with anyone.

“Where are you now?” Merret asked as I was about to withdraw from her mind. I told her, and she said, “How strange that you should find your way to Stonehill, given that it was not where I told you it was.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, unable to remember her ever mentioning Stonehill to me.

“I thought it was on the other side of Aborium,” Merret said.

“We can speak of this later,” I said, for I was becoming fuddled. I bade her ride safe and withdrew from her mind.

I rested for a time and, drowsing, found myself remembering a vision I had once had of Domick lying slumped in what I had thought was a Council cell, his hair long and matted, his body covered in sores and filth. I had no doubt now that the vision had been of Domick on Herder Isle or Norseland, and I wondered what Ariel had been doing to him all this time, given that he could not have been infecting him with plague.

At last thirst forced me to climb again, and it was not long before I reached the top of Stonehill. A gentle slope rose before me, covered in long grass that swished pleasantly in a slight wind. It was very dark, for the moon had risen behind a tattered veil of cloud and was only fitfully revealed, but I
walked steadily, eager to reach a place where I could see the ocean. The wind grew stronger, and I was so intent on leaning into it that I was almost on them before I noticed the outline of buildings near the top of the slope. Drawing closer, I saw that they were ruins. I entered the nearest dwelling. There was no roof at all, and whatever had once been laid down as a floor had gone, too. But the grass growing there was soft, and I was delighted to see a pile of the brown rock that was used for fires on Herder Isle. All I needed were some twigs and dried grasses to start a fire, and I could cook the potatoes Erit had given me.

Once outside, I remembered that I wanted to see the ocean and continued up the slope until I reached the top. The hill flattened out and ran to a cliff edge where the stone looked as if a knife had sheared it off. The moon was shining through the clouds onto the sea, and I stood for a long time looking at it and thinking of Ari-roth and Ari-noor and of Dragon and her mother and of Harwood and the others upon Herder Isle. But the wind that flowed from the sea was chilly, and soon I turned to head back to the ruins. I had one clear glimpse of them and the land about them before the moon vanished again, but I had seen enough to discern that the ruins were not merely a few buildings but a proper small settlement. I wondered why Erit had not mentioned it when he suggested I ride to the top of Stonehill. If there had once been a settlement here, there must be some easier way up the hill than the perilous path I had taken with Rawen.

In looking for some twigs to start a fire, I noticed a hollow to one side of the ruins that had once been walled. Within it grew the remains of a substantial orchard. Queerly shaped stumps were all that remained of the trees, all thickly distorted trunks with little branches. Dead, I guessed, the
branches long ago broken off for firewood.

I headed toward the nearest gap in the wall, wondering why Halfmoon Bay had not been built about this hill. It would have provided a magnificent lookout and given the city true distinction.