The Farseekers (27 page)

So began the worst time since we had entered the Olden way. Tired and thirsty, we plodded doggedly after Darga. There was no possibility of resting until we reached dry ground. Soaking through my boots and stockings, the swamp water was tepid. An evil-smelling reek hung low over the surface of the water, and swirled about our feet as we passed.

We walked in silence, concentrating on keeping our footing and moving as quickly as we could. I jumped when Jik ventured a question.

'If I fell in this water, or touched one of those poisoned plants, would I die at once or slowly like Pavo?' he asked gravely.

Repressing a flare of anguish at the thought of Pavo, I said, 'I don't know. We're not really sure yet if there are lots of different kinds of poisons in the world, or just the one left behind from the Great White. If the poisons here are caused by the Great White, how quickly you die depends on how potent it is. If it's strong, it could work quickly. But if weak, like in the places we find whitestick, you have to be exposed to it over long periods of time before it does any harm.'

He nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowed. 'Sometimes on the island, a Herder died if he touched too much whitestick before it was transformed. What is whitestick anyway?'

I smiled. 'Your guess is as good as anyone's. Pavo thinks it is a sort of by-product from the Great White, like ash from a fire. Once transformed, it is used for everything from starting fires to making medicines. But surely you know that much?'

'The Herders make a kind of gas with it that makes your skin burn,' Jik said.

I looked at him curiously, 'I've never heard of that.'

He shrugged. 'It's a secret. I saw them experimenting by accident. The man who they tested it on was a halfwit. He went blind from the gas, and then his skin blistered. They told everyone a few days later that he had gone to another Cloister, but I think he died.'

The thought of whitestick being used for such a purpose disturbed me. It sounded as if the Herders had found a way of using it without bothering to transform it. But what possible use could be made of a gas that burned?

'Why did the Beforetimers make the Great White?' Jik asked. He had not long ago completely believed the Herder doctrine he had been taught. He was insatiably curious about our views on the taboo subjects. The Herders told us Lud sent the Great White because the Oldtimers were evil.'

I smiled. When he was older he would realize we would never know for sure what happened. 'I doubt anyone meant to cause the Great White,' I said. 'I don't know how it came to be, no one does, or what it was for. I like to believe the Great White was a kind of accident. But no one knows for sure. Not even the Herder Faction for all they think they know everything.'

'They say they do,' Jik protested. 'They say there were Herders in the Beforetime, and that their knowledge has been passed down.'

That was news to me. 'People like them maybe,' I said. 'People who want power to control other people's lives. There would always be people like that.'

'Pavo told me some of the Oldtime weapons and poisons might still be hidden some place, like the skyscrapers under Tor,' Jik said seriously.

I forced myself not to react.

'It's possible,' I said slowly.

'What would happen if someone found it? Someone like Ariel or the Druid. There might be another accident . . .' His voice trailed off.

This is a bad place for such talk,' I said.

I noticed a greenish vapour bubbling out of the water nearby. Trying not to panic, I pointed it out to Darga. He told me it was a poisonous gas but too weak to harm us. Gradually the water began to bubble all around us, issuing clouds of coloured gas. One virulent yellow gas was dangerous enough for Darga to give a wide margin, while a sickly blue shade made him backtrack hastily.

The region of gases was narrow, but seemed to take hours to negotiate. My nerves felt ragged by the time we left the mists behind. Suddenly, right in front of us, a bluish gas coalesced. Jik almost fell over in his effort to back away from it. I sent a quick command and he steadied himself. 'It's Dragon,' I said. 'She's copying the gases.' Jik nodded, staring at the apparition unhappily. Noticing his expression, Dragon's triumphant smile faded and the mist vanished.

'Bad?' she asked contritely.

'Good,' I said firmly. 'Very good.'

'More?' Dragon asked eagerly, waving her hands to indicate that she would make something huge and mysterious and complex.

'Uh . . . Maybe later,' Jik said sheepishly.

The gold tint in the sky intensified, transforming the surface of the water into a dull molten gold. I wondered if the entire swamp were somehow distorting our vision to produce the odd colour.

As soon as the sun set, the dim day gave way to a starless night and the air resounded again with the mysterious growling noises that had disturbed us the previous night. They sounded much closer, and I could not get over the feeling that we were being stalked, despite a second fruitless mind search.

We were all relieved to stand on solid ground, though the darkness kept us from seeing what sort of land lay ahead. I decided we needed a break, having been unable to stop at all during the crossing of the swamp. We drank the last of our water with a feeling of recklessness. Already lightheaded from lack of food, I prayed we were close to the compound. The ground had flattened out entirely now, and the increase in my farseeking range told me we had reached Highland level. It had also become much colder.

Lying with my back against a tree, I could hear Darga beside me sniffing delicately, tasting the various scents of the night. I could smell nothing but the noxious swamp gases and my own filth, but Darga's nose was incredibly sensitive. The dog was proving an invaluable member of our company. I wondered if his presence was the real truth that lay behind the vague future-telling of Jik's importance.

A slight breeze ruffled my hair and Darga lifted his head. 'A storm comes,' he sent.

I nodded impatiently. 'But the compound, can you smell it yet?'

'Not far,' Darga sent.

That night, I slept heavily and dreamlessly. I woke only once to the sound of Jik's laughter echoing in the darkness.

He had been walking around trying to keep himself warm and alert on his watch turn, when he had accidentally trodden on a small, lumpy-skinned swamp dweller with bulging eyes. Immediately, the frightened creature's neck had blown up to three times its diminutive size, and it had let out the incredible growling rumble that had so mystified us. We had seen dozens of the creatures since leaving the area of bubbling mists, sitting on logs and blinking sleepily at us, but had not connected the giant noises with such insignificant life forms.

Jik's suggestion that the dreadful calling was a kind of love song made me laugh until my stomach ached. I lay back to sleep finally, with a smile on my face. It was good to laugh. I had been doubly amused to find Darga took Jik's suggestion quite seriously. Beasts lacked only one funaga virtue that I regretted and that was a sense of humour.

'You may call it a lack,' Darga broke into my thoughts. 'So might I lack a pain in my head.' That made me laugh again.

I had intended to stand last watch, but Jik had not woken me, saying he had felt wide awake and thought I might as well sleep while I could.

I stretched, feeling oddly lethargic. I threw the blanket away from me, realizing it was hot. At once, my feet began to ache with a new pain, and my head and neck felt damp. I looked down at my feet uneasily. Standing carefully, I could not stifle a gasp of pain at the hot fire shooting up my legs.

'What is it?' Jik asked, catching my pain and fear.

'Nothing,' I lied. 'My feet have gone to sleep.' It was not easy to lie to an empath, but Jik was young and untrained.

I turned away from him to hide the fear in my eyes. The numbness that had enabled me to climb the Olden way had been too good to be true. I forced myself to face something that I had known for a while. My feet had become infected. Fighting off a dull drowsiness, I bestirred the others, deliberately isolating the awareness of the pain.

This was a dangerous thing to do and Roland forbade it in all but the most extreme need. Pain suppressed was pain in waiting. Eventually, it had to be endured, and the longer it was allowed to accumulate, the more devastating its final effect. It was possible to suppress minor pain for so long that the accumulation, when released, could stop a strong man's heart. I would pay dearly for my suppression, but I had to get to Obernewtyn. If I could suppress until I arrived, Roland would be able to have the healers siphon off some of the pain.

Resolutely I went on, refusing to allow myself to think about the consequences if I failed to reach Obernewtyn before the pass was closed.

We had been walking less than an hour when Darga stopped abruptly, his fur bristling. 'Funaga. Just ahead,' he sent.

I told the others to wait and limped through the trees. Catching sight of the compound wall, I had to fight back tears of relief. The compound was the last obstacle between us and Obernewtyn.

I peered over the wall warily.

Three or four men stood near the diggings talking. The yellow sky cast an ivory light on their faces making their flesh a sickly sallow hue.

On the other side of the clearing nearest the fence, an armsman was deep in an argument with a white-robed acolyte. The acolyte looked angry. A few steps away stood another armsman, leaning on his spear and yawning. There was a lot more open space than I remembered from Matthew's vision, and no way of passing over it unnoticed without a diversion, unless we waited for nightfall. But the moon would be brighter then, and we could not afford to waste a whole day. Jik brought Dragon up to the fence. It was difficult to make her understand what was needed, and even then I was unsure I had made my meaning clear. But she nodded, her pupils enormous with excitement.

A low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. Dragon shuddered from head to toe and half started up in agitation. I wrenched her down beside me, hissing angrily at Jik to keep her down. The last thing we wanted was to be seen and pursued. Dragon pointed at the sky and gibbered fearfully. I patted her arm, realizing she was afraid of the storm. That was all we needed.

I turned to Darga, who was looking up and sniffing the wind.

'We'll have to go straight away, Dragon's frightened of the storm and she might not be able to make a vision if she gets any worse.'

As if to underline my words, lightning flashed directly overhead, and Dragon cowered to the ground, hands over her ears. I had a sudden impression that time was folding back on itself. My apprehension had increased to the point where it bordered on premonition, but I knew the suppression of pain could confuse the other senses. And Dragon's growing agitation made it imperative we moved at once.

I pulled her round to face me, and was astonished to see she was as white as bone. I stroked her face gently and slowly she relaxed.

I turned to look over the wall and premonition struck at me so violently that I felt my knees buckle under me. I grabbed at the fence, fighting a wave of formless terror. I forced myself to be calm and looked searchingly at Dragon. She nodded seeming to understand.

Lightning flashed as she rose and she flinched. A moment later the man leaning on his spear gave a muffled shout and another man actually screamed with such terror that my hair stood on end. Then chaos broke in the compound. For a moment there was a hail of cries and panicked shouts. Peering through a crack in the fence, I could see nothing and wondered what Dragon had conjured up. I watched until I could see the clearing was deserted, then hissed at the others to run.

Lightning flashed as we thrust aside the barrier of stakes, but no one cried out. I saw a lone man running frantically for the huts, and wondered how Dragon had managed to get them all to go inside the huts, whose doors faced away from the clearing.

Another deafening burst of thunder rent the air and a vivid flash of lightning told me the storm was almost on us. We were on our way home, I
thought incredulously. Distantly, I sensed that running had pushed the suppressed pain to dangerous levels.

Lightning flashed with lurid brilliance and, for a second, our shadows ran before us elongated and sharp edged, merging with the tree-line just before us.

We had reached the White Valley!

Thunder crashed again and this time the air vibrated with its force.

As soon as we reached the trees, I urged the others to run ahead, and slowed to a limping walk. There was no more need to run, and I did not want to aggravate the suppression any further. Preoccupied, I did not notice a rock in the grass and tripped, sprawling headlong. Hearing my involuntary cry, Dragon turned to help me to my feet. Then she froze.

I looked up at her, puzzled, and my heart jerked with sickening force. Her face was a grotesque mask of terror, her lips stretched wide in a silent scream. I tried to pull her down beside me but she fought me silently, eyes wide and unfocused. I thought she was having some sort of fit.

Again thunder rumbled, and the ground seemed to vibrate. Without warning Dragon began to shriek hysterically. I drew back a hand to slap her and at the same time looked over my shoulder to see what she had seen.

My legs seemed to liquefy with terror.

Less than fifty spans away ran a wall of fire and there was no mistaking the greenish tint of the flames or the blue crackle in the air. I had seen it before - the miscoloured sky, the dull bleared light - but I had not recognized it.

A firestorm, and we were out in the open!

'Get up and run, girl, unless you want to die!' cried a voice.

Wrenched violently to my feet, I found myself half dragged, half carried along by a tall, brown-faced youth. Dragon ran before us, her eyes wild with terror.

'That way. There are caves,' he shouted, pointing. Dragon swerved the way he indicated, disappearing into the trees. The acrid stench of smoke billowed around us and, dimly, I heard the muffled crash of thunder in the distance. A wave of heat flowed over us, and the air burned. I dared not glance over my shoulder to see how near the flames were. All I could think of was the Burning of my mother and father. The screams and the dreadful smell.