The Seeker (6 page)

Jes charged through another door, his face contorted with fury. “What are you doing?” he shouted. Noticing Rosamunde, he stopped to stare at us in confusion.

“For Lud’s sake, Jes, don’t yell at her. It’s one of her fainting fits again.” Rosamunde looked uncertainly at me. “That water must have been tainted, despite what the Herder said.”

“Water?” Jes whispered incredulously.

“Of course,” she said sternly. “And stop glaring at her. She’s just been in with the Obernewtyn keeper. I’ll get a powder,” she added, and departed.

“Is it true?” he asked, fear in his eyes.

I nodded numbly. “I was only meant to serve tea. But she knows now.”

“How can you be sure?” he pressed. “Tell me what they said. Did they speak of me?”

“They said nothing. But at the end, when I was leaving, she asked who I was.”

He gaped. “That’s all?”

I shook my head. “She knows, Jes.”

The light died in his eyes. He might despise my powers, but he did not doubt them.

“Jes!” It was Rosamunde. She frowned at him from the veranda. “Don’t stare her down like some idiot guardian. Help her outside. Some fresh air will revive her.”

“She’s all right,” Jes snapped, but he carried me onto the veranda and set me on a couch. Ignoring him, Rosamunde handed me a powder. I swallowed it without demur, hardly noticing its bitter aftertaste.

“I am sorry,” I told Jes, suddenly remorseful.

He made no reply. His face was grim. I could not blame his hatred of my abilities. At that moment, I hated them myself.

Rosamunde had noticed the look on Jes’s face and sat on the couch beside him. “What is the matter? Tell me. You know you can trust me. I’ll help if I can.”

He looked at her, and to my astonishment, I could see that he did trust her. Lying to this girl would not come easily to him. I studied her properly. She was a plain, sensitive-looking girl, pale as most orphans were, with a mop of brown curls neatly tied back. I wondered how I had been so blind as to miss the thawing of my self-sufficient brother.

Jes turned to face me. “Are you all right, Elf?” he asked. That had been his pet name for me in happier days, but he had not used it for a long time. How odd that it had taken a disaster to show me that there was still some bond of affection between us. His face was thoughtful, and as I had often done before, I wished I could read his mind. He was not like me, yet his was one of the rare minds that seemed to have a natural shield.

Rosamunde gazed at us both in consternation. “Tell me, please,” she urged.

“Elspeth will be declared a Misfit,” Jes said tiredly.

“You poor thing,” Rosamunde whispered.

“Elf … has begun to have unnatural dreams,” Jes said slowly.

I stared at him. Occasionally I had true-dreamed, but that was the least of it. Why was Jes lying?

“It was the tainted water,” Jes continued, his eyes evasive.

I gaped openly now.

“But … everyone knows that sometimes happens when someone comes into contact with tainted water,” Rosamunde said incredulously. “She was normal before the accident, and I am sure that will temper their judgment. She might only go to the Councilfarms, and you could petition for her once you have your own Normalcy Certificate.”

Then a look of concern passed over her features, and I knew what had occurred to her. If I was declared a birth Misfit, Jes would be stripped of his armband and privileges, and even his Certificate would be in doubt. On the other hand, if the Council judged that I had been affected by tainted water and declared me Misfit through misadventure, Jes’s status would be unaffected.

I looked at my brother. I had never known what motivated him. But perhaps he thought of more than just himself as he weaved this tissue of lies. After all, it would go easier for me, too, if the Council thought I was a Misfit only by accident.

“Talk to them,” Rosamunde urged Jes, but he shook his head. “You are no Misfit!” she cried.

“No,” Jes agreed. His eyes were sad. “Leave us,” he said to Rosamunde gently.

She burst into noisy tears. “No. I will come, too, if they take you. I could pretend—”

“Be wise,” Jes said. “We don’t know what the keeper will
do, or what happens at Obernewtyn.” He paused, and I sensed the struggle taking place within him. “If things had been different …,” he began, and then stopped. He fell silent, his face troubled.

Rosamunde seemed to understand and dried her tears. Her face was wretched with unhappiness. “They might not take you,” she said. “The tainted water is to blame.”

I looked at her, and a plan came to me. I would have to be wary and delicate.

Carefully I directed my ability to manipulate thoughts into her reeling mind, seeking to create the chains of thought and action I needed, joining them carefully onto her own half-formed notions. I had not used my coercing ability so directly before, and I was curious to see how well the thoughts and decisions I had grafted would hold.

“You must go,” Jes told her. “I want you to go. Never speak of this—or us—again. It is bad enough that we have been seen together. I will not let you be dragged into this mess.”

“Oh Lud, no,” she sobbed, and ran inside.

Jes and I looked at each other, neither of us having the slightest idea what the other thought.

“Elspeth Gordie.”

I trembled at the sound of my name, though I had been waiting for it. At that last moment, there was a flare of hope that I had been wrong after all.

I waited, still trembling, as those around me drew back. The head of Kinraide went on to say that I had been affected by tainted water and was to be sent to the Councilcourt in Sutrium for sentencing. I knew then my plan had worked. I looked at Jes and caught his amazed look. He did not understand how the lie he had devised had come to be believed by
the guardians. I prayed I knew him well enough to guess he would not protest or ask who had reported me. My eyes sought out Rosamunde, who would not look at me, and I hoped she would not be too badly affected by what I had willed her to do. I felt a self-loathing for having burdened her with a betrayal she would never have contemplated without my coercerthought.

Her denouncement had come too late to stop the proceedings under which I would be bonded to Obernewtyn, but it had saved Jes from any trouble and had categorized me as a very ordinary sort of Misfit. I prayed the knowledge that she had saved Jes would be enough to salve Rosamunde. I did not want her to suffer.

An awful lethargy filled me as I sat in the punishment room, where I would remain until the Council coach came for me at dawn. I could have picked the lock, for I had recently discovered that by concentrating fiercely I could exert a small amount of physical force with my mental powers. But were I to open the door, where would I go?

Maruman came to my prison window that night. I tried to explain that I was going away, but he was still under the sway of his fit, and I could not tell how much he understood.

“The mountains have called at last,” he said dreamily. “Last night I dreamed of the oldOne again. She said your destiny is there.”

“Oh, don’t,” I begged, but Maruman was merciless in his fey state.

“I smell the white in the mountains,” he told me with drifting eyes that reflected the moonlight. I found myself trembling after he had gone and wished that now, of all times, Maruman had been his grumpy, sensible self, all too ready to scoff at my fears.

I slept fitfully until I heard movement at the door. It was still not dawn, and I wondered if the carriage had arrived already. But it was Jes.

“Forgive me,” he said.

I gaped at him.

“I didn’t tell them that business about the water. I swear. I … I thought of it, to save myself, but I didn’t. I don’t know how they came to know. I wouldn’t blame you for thinking I had done it,” he said wretchedly.

“It’s better that they think I am only a dreamer and not a birth Misfit,” I said earnestly, hoping he would not confess his anguish to poor Rosamunde, who might reveal her part in my denunciation.

“It shames me that when they read your name out I thought only of myself,” he said in a muffled voice.

He seemed to feel he had betrayed me simply because the thought had occurred to him, and I sensed his rigid nature would crumble completely if I allowed him to break down.

“Soon you will have your Certificate. You will be able to petition for me,” I said softly.

“But Obernewtyn does not release those it takes,” he whispered.

Hastily I took his hand. “Oh, Jes,” I said. “You saw the keeper. Did she look so awful? I’m not frightened. And I would have hated the Councilfarms,” I added with a smile.

Wanly he smiled back.

There was a movement outside, and a voice called that the carriage was ready. I looked at Jes in sudden concern, fearing what would happen if he was caught with me. But seeing my alarm, he shook his head, saying the Herder himself had given permission for Jes to say prayers for my soul. I noticed he still wore the armband, but I said nothing.

He leaned forward suddenly, his eyes fierce. “I will come and get you one day. I promise.”

But you are only sixteen
, I thought,
with two more long years until you can apply for your Certificate
. Instinct told me this would be our last goodbye. Impulsively, I flung my arms around him. “Dear Jes, it really is best this way,” I said. “Except for our parting, I am honestly glad it is done with.”

“Time now,” said the guardian. Jes nodded. Suddenly aware that he was being watched, he said the last few chants of a prayer.

“Goodbye,” I whispered.

He did not wait to see me bundled into the dark coach, and I was glad for it.

I sat back into the stiff upholstery and wondered what destiny waited for me at Obernewtyn.

6

T
HERE WERE FEW
people around to see me arrive at the Councilcourt in Sutrium. Even at the busiest hour, few tarried near those somber buildings. The white slate steps led up to the open double doors, and for the second time in my life, I ascended them, led by a soldierguard. The smell of wood polish made me vividly recollect my last visit. But back then, Jes had been with me, squeezing my hand.

“Sit and wait till you are called,” said the soldierguard, peering into my face as if to ascertain whether I was capable of understanding. I nodded dully, and he went away.

A man and a boy came through the front door. There was something unusual about them, but I felt too numb at first to try working out what it was. Then it came to me. They were very tanned, as if they had spent their whole life outdoors.

The man followed a soldierguard through a door, while the boy looked around to find I was sitting on the only bench. He sat beside me.

“Hullo,” he said.

I stared at him, astonished that he would speak to a complete stranger. And here of all places. “Who are you?” I asked, suddenly suspicious.

He looked amused, and his eyes crinkled in a nice sort of way. “Do I look like a spy?” he laughed. “My name is Daffyd.
My uncle is petitioning the council for a permit to trade in the mountains.”

“The mountains,” I echoed.

“Well, not exactly the mountains. After all, whom would we trade with? I meant the high country,” he explained. He smiled again, and despite everything, I found myself smiling back. “Why are you here?” he asked.

“I’m a Misfit, or soon to be judged so,” I said bluntly. “I am to be sent to Obernewtyn.”

He didn’t recoil. He only said, “Well, if you are like me, you will find the mountains beautiful. I don’t have much patience for places like Sutrium,” he added disparagingly.

Impulsively I tried to read him, but like Jes, he had a natural shield.

“Aren’t you afraid to be seen talking to a Misfit?” I asked at last.

“Where I come from, they say Misfits are people who have been punished by Lud. I don’t see how that is anything to fear. In truth it seems to me there are worse things than being a Misfit.”

“Oh yes?” I asked sarcastically. “What could be worse?”

“These people, for one. This Luddamned Council,” he said in a low, intense voice. I stared, for what he was saying was sedition. He was either mad or insanely careless.