The Farseekers (12 page)

Rising, I sent a final vital question, 'Where is the blocking machine?'

She frowned. 'Machine?'

'The block on our minds. Surely you can feel it?'

'Feel what?' Gilaine sent.

Confused I sent a brief image of the block.

'Oh, that,' her mind sent, amused. 'No machine. Lidgebaby.' She pointed to a cot near one of the walls. 'Lidgebabymind.'

My mouth fell open. The incredible numbing effect blanketing the camp which had resisted all my strength was the uncontrollable mental static of a Misfit baby!

Something woke me.

It was a dark night and the moon showed full beyond the window glass. Rain was falling softly on the roof of the wash house and its adjoining sleeping chambers.

Then I heard a voice, calling softly. 'Elspeth?'

I sat bolt upright in bed, afraid to answer in case it was a trap. Trying to think how I would react if I really was nothing more than a gypsy, I climbed out of bed and went across to the window.

'Who's out there?' My voice came out low and anxious, not quite a whisper.

'Shh!' the voice hissed urgently.

Apprehension prickled along my spine. 'What do you want? Who are you?'

There was a pause, as if the caller was wary too.

'I come from a friend,' the voice whispered at last, reluctantly.

I frowned. 'I have no friends here.'

Again there was a pause. 'Gilaine,' the voice grated, with a hint of irritation.

I bit my lip and peered into the rain-streaked night, wishing there were a moon. Whoever was out there had the perfect cover. I could see nothing. I wondered if Gilaine had really sent them.

'I have a key to unlock your door,' the voice said.

I made up my mind. If it were a trap I would blame gypsy curiosity.

'All right.' A moment later, there was a faint click and the door opened to admit a man wearing a dark, hooded cloak pulled low across his face. With an imperious gesture, he slipped back outside. Pulling my own cape hastily over my nightdress, I padded out barefoot, closing the door behind me.

'Who are you?' I demanded.

'My name is Saul. And you don't need to know any more than that,' he added brusquely.

We hurried along, keeping close to the walls, cloaks flapping in gusts of wind blowing along the dark, empty streets. Coming to a cobbled square, Saul stopped, scanning the square and the streets leading into it intently. Trees growing up through the cobbles flung bare branches about, sighing mournfully. After a long moment, he flicked his hand curtly and strode directly across the square.

On the other side I stopped. 'Wait a minute. This isn't the way to Gilaine's house.'

'It is the way to my house,' Saul answered.

His house proved to be as small as Gilaine's, but looked dark and deserted. He opened the door and light spilled out onto the wet ground. Dark heavy curtains had hidden the light from prying eyes. Reassured, I followed him inside.

Removing his cloak, Saul shook it and hung it on a peg in the wall. Studying him covertly in the light, I decided he was handsome in a cold sort of way. He was tall, but too thin and his skin pale. His hands were as long and slender as a woman's, and his facial features sharply defined beneath a fringe of straight light-brown hair. He looked at me fleetingly with eyes the colour of mud-stained ice. I smiled tentatively but he did not respond. I pretended to stumble following him along the hallway leading to the other section of the cottage, clutching at his arm to steady myself.

I had a brief impression of an intelligence bordering on brilliance, resting on a frighteningly unstable personality. 'Get out!' commanded an icy mental voice. He pushed me away with a look of revulsion.

I followed him wordlessly into the kitchen knowing I had seen such stress before in people unable to tolerate the realization that they were Misfits. I guessed Saul had been ruthlessly orthodox before his discovery that he was a Misfit. His personality was disintegrating under the stress of being what he loathed. I wondered if the others knew.

The kitchen was almost the exact replica of Gilaine's but without cooking smells, flowers or plants. It reminded me of an Orphan Home kitchen before Keeper inspection.

Seated at a scrubbed timber table were Gilaine, the two musicians I had seen at the Druid's nightmeal, and an older, heavy-set man I had not seen before.

For a moment they looked up at me with collective appraisal. Then Gilaine rose. Smiling welcome she touched my arm. 'I am glad you came. See? I am getting better at this strange way of communicating, but Lidgebaby does not like it. This is Saul, who brought you here. I think you have seen Peter and Michael.' She gestured at the musicians. 'And this is Jow, the brother of Daffyd.'

'This is dangerous,' I said aloud.

Gilaine nodded gravely. 'You told me this afternoon you had to get away. We want to help, but you must answer questions first,' she sent.

From the expressions on the faces of the others, I guessed they had been less eager to help than Gilaine. I wondered what she had said to convince them, especially Saul, who made no pretence of liking my presence and was prowling back and forwards like a caged animal.

The others with you - Misfit also?' Gilaine asked.

I nodded, aware we would not get out of the camp without help. I had to take the risk. And I did trust Gilaine. I guessed she was reporting my answers to the others, but could find no trace of their communication, though her hand rested on my arm. She seemed not to need physical contact to communicate with the others.

She looked back at me. 'Have you really come from Obernewtyn?'

I nodded, and again told the story I had told the Druid, with one difference. I told her we had welcomed Pavo's illness as a way of splitting off from the rest of the troop. 'It was getting too dangerous for us to stay. Gypsies live close together - they hate mutant/Misfits.'

'Then you never meant to rejoin your father?' Saul asked accusingly, when Gilaine had relayed my answer. 'You say Obernewtyn is a ruin. How can we believe you?'

I shrugged. 'Believe what you want. Why would I bother to lie?'

It was odd how sure everyone seemed to be that the firestorm story was a lie. No one had been up to the mountains since Rushton had claimed Obernewtyn but our own people. No one could really know, but they seemed so certain. I decided to ask my own questions.

'How did you discover your powers?'

Gilaine smiled. 'The night Lidgebaby was born,' she sent.

The baby coercer had woken the entire group to operancy. Gilaine sent a graphic picture of the night the baby had been born. She had been in bed asleep, when the sound of a baby screaming woke her. She was in the street in her nightgown before she realized the cry she was hearing was inside her mind. She had dressed quickly, her mind reeling, unable to resist the summons. Only when she reached the street outside the birthing house, did she begin to understand what had happened, for she was not alone. They had all answered the call: Saul, destined to become an acolyte, Jow, an animal handler, his younger brother, Daffyd, and the two musicians.

Daffyd had woken first to the peril of such a gathering, and they had dispersed, planning to meet in less dangerous circumstances, the first of many such meetings. They all understood two things at once though. They would never again be alone in their own minds, for Lidgebaby was with them constantly, linking them irrevocably to one another, and they were in terrible danger.

In that dramatic birthbonding, Lidgebaby had forged an indelible emotional link between the group. None could ever consciously harm the baby. All were coerced to love and protect.

Little monster, I thought, keeping my mind shielded. No wonder I could not hear their communication. They talked through the baby, using their own powers only to maintain contact. It was the combined network of minds, and the child's mental overflow, that was blocking me.

It was an incredible situation and gave me a clear idea of Lidgebaby's mental prowess. A baby, his coercive demands were selfish but basically innocent. What would happen when he grew up and became conscious of the power he wielded? I shuddered, seeing them smile in the collective memory of that first enslavement/ wakening of their Misfit minds.

Seeing my eyes on him, Saul frowned and turned away.

'Where will you go, if we help you?' Gilaine asked.

'We hadn't thought far ahead. We meant to use an Olden pass we heard about to get to the Lowlands without going along the main roads.'

Saul snorted. 'No one could get through that pass alive.'

I stared. 'You mean there is a pass?'

Gilaine nodded. 'But Saul is right. No way to go there. Dangerous.'

Jow shifted in his seat and the others fell silent. For the first time I glimpsed Daffyd's features in his face. 'Where then?' he said aloud.

I shrugged. 'To the coast I suppose. We thought of getting a boat. I've heard there are places . . .' I hesitated.

'Over the Great Sea,' said the boy musician wistfully.

'I have heard there are places over the edge of the world, where there is no Council or Herder faction,' Jow said pensively.

'Why do you stay here?' I asked. 'It's terribly dangerous?'

Jow shook his head. 'Better to wait until winter is over. And we must wait until Lidgebaby is weaned.'

'Couldn't you get the mother to go with you?'

'The mother is bonded to an acolyte and has already had one babe Burnt. She denounced it,' Jow said.

I stared at him in horror. 'Why are you offering to help us?'

Jow frowned. 'You are a danger to us as long as you stay. You are a danger to the baby. We'll help you, but you must understand we can't let you talk if you are caught. The acolytes are very persuasive.'

I nodded, understanding what he left unsaid. 'How can you help us?'

'There are two things,' Jow said. 'First, we can absorb Lidgebaby's emanations so that you can communicate with your friends in the compound. Second, we will organize a diversion to give you all time to get away. The soldierguards from the training camps below the lower ranges will leave in a few days to witness the ordination of new Herders in Sutrium. That will mean the main road will be safe for a week or so, and you can cut right through the camp and make for the coast between the lower mountains and Glenelg Mor.'

I bit my lip. It would take several days to go that way, but it seemed there was no choice.

At a word from Jow, Saul seated himself at the table and the group linked hands. 'Be quick,' Jow said. 'I'm not sure how long we can hold it. Tell your friends the word firestorm will be used to identify us.'

They closed their eyes. For a long moment, there was silence. A log cracked noisily in the fire, spitting out an orange flame. Beads of perspiration stood out on Jow's face.

Then the block was gone.

I gasped in delight, realizing how the restriction had oppressed me. I sent a specific probe tuned to Matthew's mind. There was too little time to locate him physically. He was asleep when I found him and I woke him with an ungentle mental jab.

'Wha?' his mind enquired stupidly. 'Elspethelf?' he sent, recognizing my probe.

'I don't have much time so listen carefully,' I sent. 'Some Misfits here are going to help us escape. They'll be using the word firestorm as a password. They'll create a joint diversion to give us the chance to get away.'

'We canna use th' Olden way,' Matthew warned.

I told Matthew Jow's alternate plan. 'They know nothing about Domick. I'm going to try to reach him. He may have gone back to Obernewtyn.'

Matthew interrupted eagerly. 'I farsensed him.' I was astonished. It was impossible to communicate over distance with anyone but another farseeker unless communicator and communicant possessed some deep-probing ability. It seemed Ceirwan was right about Matthew developing deepprobe powers. But there was no time to think about that now.

'Are the horses with Domick?'

'An' Darga,' Matthew sent. 'Wait a minute! If ye haven't escaped, how can ye be contactin' me?'

'The Misfits here helped me stop the block for a bit. It's not a machine. The block is caused by a baby with coercive powers.'

'A baby!' Matthew echoed.

'Where is this compound? Show me,' I demanded.

Matthew made his mind passive so that I could use his eyes. At once a ghostly vision unfolded in my mind. He was looking down a long narrow rift between two mountains. There was a fence dividing a bare foreground from a heavily vegetated background. I thought I could see patches of glowing gas in the moonlight beyond the barrier. It took a moment for me to realize what I was seeing.

'The Olden pass . . .'

Matthew confirmed it. 'Poisonground/poison gas an' gigantic growling beasts.'

'Why build a compound there?' I wondered.

In answer, Matthew turned again. Dirt, rocks and dispossessed trees lay in mounds on either side of a broad gape in the ground. On one side of the hole were a row of rough huts. Th' ground here is safe. We're here to pander to th' Druid's favourite obsession. Oldtime ruins. He thinks th' machine what made th' Great White is here somewhere. Mad as a snake is our Druid, to think it would still be workin' after all this time.'

Not so mad, I thought with a feeling of cold dread.

'How is Pavo?' I asked.

'He says he refuses to die in a dirty, damp Druid hole,' Matthew sent. 'He's convinced you'll be along any minute to rescue us. Elspeth is a survivor, he keeps sayin'.'

'I wish I shared his faith. There's no hope now of getting to the Lowlands and back before winter. And Maryon has predicted disaster for Obernewtyn if we don't make it.'

'If only you could farseek Ceirwan at Obernewtyn,' Matthew said.

I shrugged. He knew as well as I that our ability to farsense over long distances grew progressively weaker the closer we came to the coast. Pavo believed this had something to do with the density of air. As well, the tainted mountains threw up a violent static impossible to penetrate from below. Only the Zebkrahn could penetrate the static, but it did no more than register Talents. There was not even the hope the Teknoguild would see from the Zebkrahn that we had stopped moving, since we were veiled in Lidgebaby's mental static. The one slender chance was that Domick would register on the machine, and Rushton might wonder at the lone Talent and send someone to investigate. But we could not afford to wait.