The Farseekers

'I had the sudden chill premonition that the long healing time of peace was drawing to an end.'

In the two years since its takeover of Obernewtyn, the secret Misfit community flourishes. Protected in their remote mountain keep from the prying eyes of the Council, the Misfits live in safety, working together to develop their extraordinary mind powers.

But now the Council is becoming suspicious -and discovery of Obernewtyn and its inhabitants means death. Only Elspeth, with her courage, her special gifts, and her allies, can hope to resist the forces of destruction.

So much is at stake. And time is running out...

By the same author

The Gathering

Scatterlings

Green Monkey Dreams

Other titles in The Obernewtyn Chronicles:

Obernewtyn

Ashling

The writing of this work was assisted by a project grant from the Australia Council, the Federal Government's Arts funding and advisory body.

For Shane

Surrounded on one side by the sea and inland, bordered by jagged mountain ranges and great tracts of poisonous Blacklands, the people of the Land believed they alone had survived the Holocaust.

In the absence of any authority, a Council was set up to preserve order in the growing community, but what began as a welcome central governing body became something sinister and oppressive. Few dared speak out in protest for fear of the ruthless Council soldierguards. Midnight arrests, torture, bribes and an efficient network of informants, prevented any real opposition to the Council developing. As a further deterrent, terrible punishments were meted out to anyone charged with Sedition.

Though miraculously delivered from complete destruction, the descendents of the survivors had not entirely escaped the effects of the Great White, for mutant births were frequent in all species. Not fully understanding the reasons for the mutations, a mysterious religious order called the Herder Faction convinced the Council and community that the Great White and its effects were a punishment from God, whom they called Lud. They claimed the Oldtimers had been evil and proud, scorning Lud's lore for their mechanical gods, until Lud had vented his fury by making the dread machines turn on their masters.

Ritual burnings of mutated babies, the misshapen young of animals, and all surviving books and possessions of the damned Oldtimers, were performed by the Herder Faction in an attempt to appease Lud.

Some mental mutations were not evident until long after birth and after the Council's Normalcy Certificate had been given. Called Misfits, those discovered were sent to Council Farms. This was virtually slavery and a slow death sentence since Misfits were invariably used in the difficult and dangerous work of cleansing a radioactive substance called whitestick, used in medicines and as a source of energy. A few escaped this fate, being sold to a remote mountain institution called Obernewtyn for experimental work on Misfits.

One such was Elspeth Gordie whose mutant abilities were far stranger than the Council realized when condemning her to Obernewtyn for minor mental mutations. Elspeth soon discovered Obernewtyn's experimental work was a cover for the activities of a group of Seditioners researching the forbidden technology of the Beforetime in search of a weapon which would enable them to overthrow the Council and dominate the Land. With the help of Elspeth, Rushton Seraphim, the true heir to Obernewtyn, succeeded in overthrowing the usurpers. The exposure of the plot and the incidental rescue of two investigating Councilmen brought Rushton into favour and his inheritance claim to Obernewtyn was allowed.

But unbeknown to the Council, Rushton himself had become a Seditioner.

His long struggle for his birthright had brought him into contact with a group of Misfits with mutated mental abilities far more
unusual and powerful than the Council
had imagined when coining the term. In return for their help in defeating Madam Vega, Alexi Seraphim and the lovely perverted boy, Ariel, Rushton had promised safe refuge at Obernewtyn, and help in their struggle for acceptance and legitimacy. Previously a loner, and with nowhere else to go, Elspeth joined the Seditioners in their secret fight for a place in the Land.

But Elspeth's remarkable range and strength of abilities set her apart even among the other Talented Misfits.

During the terrible battle in which Rushton had slain his insane step-uncle, Alexi, Elspeth discovered a dark and terrible power of her own, when she killed Madam Vega to stop her harming Rushton. An accidental mindlink forged between Rushton and Elspeth during this struggle created a strange bond between the two.

In the two years following their takeover of Obernewtyn, the Misfit community flourished, protected from the prying eyes of the Council by its remoteness and a report sent to the Council of a firestorm which had all but wiped out the settlement.

The Misfits organized themselves into seven highly efficient guilds based on mutant abilities, while the day-to-day domestic running of Obernewtyn and its farms was divided among the guilds.

Larger community decisions were made by regular formal meetings of guildmasters, guildens and wards of the seven guilds, as well as by Rushton, the Master of Obernewtyn. This meeting was called Guildmerge.

Of the guilds, the most powerful was the Farseekers Guild, headed by Elspeth. Like the other guilds, the Farseekers Guild trained and developed the abilities of its members, but its main function was to plan and execute rescues of Misfits. The prime ingredient of the plans was secrecy, for Obernewtyn could not risk exposure.

It was accepted by the Misfits that they must some day reveal themselves and their abilities but, increasingly, it became clear that nothing but the complete destruction of the Council stranglehold over the community would give the Misfits a chance for acceptance. All hoped the time for this lay far in the future, but the fates were at work, bringing the dread confrontation inexorably closer.

As well, the fates moved in Elspeth's life, reminding her of a promise made two years before, when she had discovered the Beforetime machines which spawned the Great White were not extinct but only dormant. She had managed to have two carved doors containing a map showing the whereabouts of the weapon machines burned, and had sworn to find and destroy the remaining death machines. But two years of peace had softened the edge of her determination.

Yet the time of peace and complacency was ending, for Obernewtyn and for Elspeth Gordie . . .

Roland shook his head decisively. 'I can do nothing to hasten the healing, Elspeth. If you rested them more often . . .'

I sighed and rubbed the tender soles of my feet. 'Kella said a warmer climate might help.'

Roland nodded absently, returning satchels of herbs to his carry-all. 'It's true cold doesn't help the healing process, but whatever miracles healers can do, changing the weather to suit their patient is not among them.'

I was startled at the unexpected touch of humour from the dour Healer guildmaster. Hefting the weighty bag on to his arm, Roland gave me a piercing look. He added significantly, 'If you would stay in your room in winter with banked fires instead of wandering around the draughty halls - and beyond . . .'

'I am mistress of a guild,' I said.

Roland was unsympathetic. 'Garth finds no difficulty in remaining in his caves and the Teknoguild works do not crumble because of his inactivity,' he said with faint asperity.

The Teknoguild was concerned with studying the Beforetime and researching the effects, past, present and future, of the Great White. I had little interest in such things, but I had met secretly with Garth only that morning. I wondered if Roland knew.

'Garth ... is Garth,' I said with a smile. Roland's lip twitched.

There was a knock at the door and Kella entered carrying a jug.

Roland waved his ward in impatiently. 'Soak in that, then rub some of the salve into the soles. And stay off your feet!' he growled, slamming the door behind him.

Kella poured the liquid in a flat pan, smiling ruefully. 'He's angry with himself because your feet aren't healing properly.'

I lowered my feet gingerly into the shallow pannier. A sweet scent rose from the water. 'Herb Lore?' I guessed.

Kella nodded. 'A recipe given us by the Master of Obernewtyn himself.'

I smiled, never quite able to accept the grandiose title for Rushton. When I had first known him, it was as an enigmatic farm overseer. No one had been more astonished than I to discover he was the legal Master of Obernewtyn.

Kella was staring into the fire, its orange glow playing over her cheeks. 'Rushton has not come back yet from the Highlands,' she said, a faint line of worry between her brows. I wondered idly if the healer were attracted to Rushton. It would be a pity for her. His brooding singleness of purpose made him blind to anything but his complicated plans for the future.

'It's good to see you smile,' Kella said. The old fear of revealing myself caused me a moment of sharp fear, then I consciously relaxed. The need for hiding my expression was past, at least at Obernewtyn.

'Yet there is not much to smile at, even here,' I said sombrely.

Kella's expression sharpened. 'You spoke to the newcomers?'

I nodded. 'When I was in the Orphan Home, torture was nothing more than a rumour.'

Kella's face was pale. The deliberate infliction of pain was an anathema to any healer, but torture was doubly dreadful being both mental and physical pain forged into one. She disliked the mind-bending activities of the Coercer Guild, but this was far worse.

As if reading my thoughts she said, 'Miryum claims there are times when the end justifies the means, but even a coercer could not condone torture.'

Tactless Miryum was guilden of the aggressive Coercer Guild whose function was to defend Obernewtyn and prepare for battle with the Council, if it should come to that. There was a growing rift between Healer and Coercer Guilds. Where a farseeker could read conscious thoughts, near and far away, healers, like coercers and futuretellers, could descend into the unconscious mind, deepprobing. All three guilds shaped the ability to deepprobe differently. The mind of a coercer was a weapon to suborn the will of other minds. The healer also entered other minds, but with a probe honed tendril-thin for healing. It was little wonder the two guilds were at loggerheads - using the same ability to opposing ends.

'Anyone would think you were a futureteller,' Kella said resignedly, referring to the habit futuretellers had of drifting into a dream in the middle of conversations.

I laughed. 'It might be pleasant. You would never be surprised by anything.'

'Not for me,' Kella said. 'I prefer to live in the present. I don't want to know the future.'

Without warning, the outer door to the Healer Hall was flung open to admit a wild-eyed Matthew. His anxious expression dissolved. 'Here ye are! I've been searchin' all over for ye!' he said accusingly.

I blinked at him innocently. 'Oh? I must have forgotten to say where I was going.'

Kella snorted, knowing I disliked the lack of privacy that went with being a guildmistress, and often evaded such formalities as making my whereabouts known.

Forgetting his frustration, Matthew hurried over. 'Rushton has just come back! An' he's called a Guild-merge.'

My heart jumped. Rushton often travelled outside the mountains, for there was no danger to the legal Master of Obernewtyn, but something serious must have happened for him to call a Guildmerge so abruptly.

'When?' I asked.

'Now!' Matthew said. 'He sent me to find ye. The meetin's to begin as soon as ye come.'

'Did he say why?' I asked, astonished by the haste. I dried my feet quickly and slipped on my boots. Rushton usually gave plenty of warning of a Guildmerge, to give the guilds time to prepare reports and requests.

'Nowt a word,' Matthew answered, handing me my walking stick. 'He was investigatin' a rumour that th' Council meant to establish a soldierguard camp in th' Highlands. Do ye suppose . . .!' he began, aghast at the thought of a camp so close to Obernewtyn. It had been bad enough when a soldierguard training camp was set up just below the lower ranges. If the Council were meant to put a camp in the Highlands, it could only mean they meant to tighten their control of the high country.