Authors: Isobelle Carmody
'How do you know I am a demon?' I asked, curious to know how much dogma he had swallowed.
The response was immediate. 'You are a greater demon. The other was a lesser novice. Only demons can talk inside a man's head. My master says many are driven mad by such things, but you will not find me easy to break.'
I sensed Ceirwan's amusement. 'A puppy,' he sent in ardent relief.
'If we can bring him in we would have an insight into the Herders' world. It's always possible those men asking questions about Obernewtyn were from the Herder Faction.'
Ceirwan looked unconvinced. 'He is a novice. Unlikely to know their inner secrets.'
'He is one of us,' I insisted stubbornly. 'If we leave him, the Herders might end up finding out what he is anyway, sooner or later. Then he might betray us at their behest. He is not fully committed to their way and, deep down, I think he knows it. He's suppressing it because he is frightened.'
'A rescue would have to be completely foolproof,' Ceirwan warned.
'Are you still there, Demon?' the boy sent.
The wistful enquiry in his voice decided me. I remembered my own long mental loneliness, thinking myself a freak, living in fear of disclosure.
'Do others of your kind speak to demons?' I asked.
There was a significant hesitation in his mind before he answered. 'Demons test many priests.'
'I have not encountered any other human who could communicate with me,' I sent, trying to sound like a demon.
Still probing his lower mind, I sensed him shy away from the half-formed thought that followed my comment. I was reminded of my own childhood in the Orphan Home system. I had not known at once that I was a Misfit, but some instinct of self-protection had kept me silent about my abilities. My brother, Jes, had been even more frightened. His hatred of my mutant abilities had warred with his love for me. He had spent a lifetime suppressing, even from himself, the fact that he, too, was a Misfit. In the end, he had been killed trying to escape from an Orphan Home after I was sent to Obernewtyn. For all his apparent devoutness the Herder boy was afraid, loath to speak of his abilities because of a gut feeling of danger.
'I want to bring him out,' I told Ceirwan aloud.
The memory of Jes made me determined to rescue the boy before leaving for the Lowlands. With this in mind, I contacted him every night, working on his buried fears. At last he broke down, confessing his knowledge that he was a Misfit; his belief that his masters had begun to suspect him.
'Surely such a small mutation would not matter,' I said, at the same time evoking an old nightmare in the boy's mind based on a Burning he had once witnessed.
I was startled at the strength of his reaction. He screamed.
The noise brought an older Herder. Fearing the worst, Domick struck. I deflected his blow with an ease that made him glare suspiciously.
'I said I'll handle this,' I hissed aloud.
I was relieved to hear the Herder boy tell his master he had been dreaming and injected my own calm control over his outward expressions. The priest departed with a final hard stare. My own heart was thudding, reacting to the boy's fear.
'He knows,' he sent forlornly. I had not meant to make an approach so soon, but the desperate loneliness I sensed in his thought decided me.
'You could run away,' I suggested.
'Where could I go that they wouldn't find me?' the boy asked miserably. 'If they suspect, they won't let me get away. They are interested in Misfits. They don't send them to the Council.' I saw a fleeting thought that confirmed rumours of the Herder interrogation methods and shuddered. What would happen when they discovered our kind of Misfit? What would happen to the boy if they did guess the truth? Suddenly I was very curious about the mysterious Herders.
'You know I am no demon,' I sent gently, after a moment.
'Yes,' the boy sent simply.
'Once, I was an Orphan. Like you, I was different. I didn't fit in and I was afraid of being found out and Burnt, or sent to the farms. Now I live free, with others like me.'
'Misfits,' he sent, using the hated word.
'Like you,' I sent. 'You could join us,' I added lightly.
Hope flared, swamped by a sudden regressive fear that I might, after all, be a demon tempting him to the loss of his soul. 'The other one. The first one I met. Is he there?'
I called Zarak and shielded his beam while they talked. In the end, the young Herder agreed to join us.
'He wants to know if he can bring his dog,' Zarak asked with a grin.
Zarak, Matthew and Ceirwan brought him out. Officially Zarak was still in Coventry, but the Herder boy trusted him, and had insisted he be present.
Gradually over a matter of days, the boy gave his Herder masters the impression he was becoming increasingly homesick. He talked constantly about his family and refused to eat. He let his masters think he was having trouble with the mental disciplines of the priesthood. When he escaped, it was made to appear as if he had run away with his dog, and had drowned trying to cross the Suggredoon.
It was a good scenario, one of the best we had designed. It had to be or Rushton would never have passed it. It was artistically managed, even to the point of having clothes washed up on the bank, and beast-speaking scavenger birds to hover ominously about the spot when the Herder search party arrived. It was one of the few rescues that had gone without a single hitch.
The boy proved not only to be a powerful farseeker, which we had known already, but also an equally strong empath, which explained how he had sensed my presence when I was shielded. The joint ability was unusual. There were only two other farseekers among us with weak empath Talent. To my regret, the boy Chose the Empath Guild, little wonder since Dameon had taken him gently in hand from the start. Within days he had developed the empaths' traditional adoration for their gentle leader.
His name was Jik.
The expedition was due to depart in only a week, when I met with Rushton to discuss the final plan. Discovering my name on the list of those to go, Rushton had exploded. He was furious to hear of my agreement with the black horse and even angrier that I had not spoken of it to him sooner.
'I won't be threatened,' he shouted.
'It is an agreement,' I said calmly. 'We really don't have any choice. We need the horses. And I am the strongest farseeker and a perfectly good candidate for this expedition.'
Rushton shook his head. 'I will agree to this test in principle, but you won't be the one riding the black horse. I won't risk a guildmaster on an expedition.'
Using Alad as translator, Rushton argued with the black horse, but it was useless. 'He says why should the equines risk one of their leaders if the funaga will not? He says a test should involve leaders,' Alad said.
'Then offer me as his rider,' Rushton said grimly.
The horse agreed this would be a fair exchange, but Guildmerge outvoted Rushton, saying he was more valuable than any other at Obernewtyn, being the legal Master. He must not be allowed to risk himself. Incensed, Rushton found his own rule, permitting a unanimous Guildmerge to outweigh his lone vote, used against him.
I was taken aback at his reaction. I understood his reluctance to risk a guildmaster, but to offer himself as a replacement was senseless. Even he must see he was more important to Obernewtyn than I.
Ceirwan was to run the Farseeker Guild in my absence, along with two other farseekers, since Matthew had also been appointed to the expedition. Unspoken was the knowledge that Ceirwan would become master, if I failed to return.
On the final list were myself, Pavo, Kella and Louis Larkin, with the Coercer ward, Domick, as Rushton's choice for our spy. The expedition was to be disguised as a gypsy troop. The carts had been built by the Teknoguild.
The black horse snorted its loathing at the sight of the gypsy rig. It had appointed two older horses to draw the carts. 'Gypsies are not well loved by the funaga. Too fine horses will encourage robbers,' he sent in terse explanation.
'What about you?' I asked.
The horse perked its ears forward complacently. 'They will not find me desirable,' he sent cryptically.
The night before we were to leave, Rushton came to the turret chamber. He had collected our false Normalcy Certificates. Written on old discoloured parchment they were good forgeries, but I hoped we would not need them. The names had yet to be filled in.
'It's done then,' Rushton said. He stared into the fire. There was a drawn-out silence and the fire crackled as if the lack of sound made it uneasy.
'Is something wrong?' I asked.
'Are you afraid?' he asked unexpectedly. I had a sudden vivid memory of him asking the same question in that room when it had been his.
This time, I nodded soberly. 'It will be dangerous, despite bypassing Sutrium and the main ways.'
Rushton turned to face me, his green eyes troubled. 'Don't . . . risk too much for this Misfit,' he said. 'Whoever it is might not want to join us. You . . . are perceptive, but you don't always see what is in front of your eyes.'
I had the notion he had meant to say something else and shifted uncomfortably. I had never felt really at ease with him since being forced into a mind link with him. I began to wish someone else would come in.
Rushton stood abruptly, shook his head and walked across to open the window shutters, breathing deeply as if the air in the turret room were too thin. He turned, leaning back against the open window, his face in shadow. 'You . . . are important to Obernewtyn. We can't afford to lose a guildmistress. Even now it is not too late to change your mind . . .'
I shook my head, relieved at the change of subject. 'I want to go. Besides, I promised.'
'You belong here,' Rushton said sternly.
I wished he would come back into the room so I could see his face. There was a note in his voice that puzzled me.
'Have you been so unhappy here?' he asked.
I laughed. 'I've never been more content in my life. But I am glad to go away for a while. It's as if I'm too safe and comfortable - like an old house cat. As Maruman would put it: I'm being tamed by comfort.'
'And look at him,' Rushton said darkly. 'Someday you will have to come out of your ivory tower.'
I shrugged, not understanding the reference. 'Alad said he is recovering, though he still sleeps. He remembers nothing of coming back here.'
Rushton nodded. 'He will miss you.'
Before I could answer there was a knock at the door.
I was surprised to find Dameon and Maryon outside. Their eyes went beyond me to Rushton.
'What is it?' he asked brusquely.
'I have futuretold th' expedition,' the Futuretell guild-mistress announced in her soft Highland accents.
'What have you seen?' Rushton asked eagerly. 'Will it be a success? Will those who travel return?'
I held my breath.
Maryon looked grave and serene. 'I have seen that th' boy Jik mun travel with th' expedition. If he does nowt go, many, perhaps all th' rest, will nowt return.'
I gasped aloud. None were permitted on expeditions except full-fledged guild members.
'Surely another empath?' Rushton said.
Maryon shook her head. 'The prediction deals specifically wi' th' boy, but it is unclear. I dinna see any direct action on his part. It is my belief that he matters in some obscure manner - perhaps something he will do or say, will offer a turning point for the journey. Whatever it means, he mun gan on this expedition, or Obernewtyn will fall to its enemies.'
'That settles it, the expedition will have to be put off until Maryon can clarify the prediction,' Rushton said.
Again the Futuretell guildmistress shook her head. 'The boy was only part of the foreseeing. Th' fate of Obernewtyn hangs in balance of this journey an' it mun proceed as planned. The expedition mun return to th' mountains wi' their prizes before winter freezes th' pass, else we fall.'
Rushton shook his head. 'I don't know what to make of this.'
'You need not fear Jik would betray us,' Dameon said.
Rushton looked taken aback. 'I don't doubt his loyalty if you vouch for him, but he's a boy! It's bad enough . . .' His eyes darted momentarily in my direction. I felt irritated knowing he was thinking how it would damage Obernewtyn to lose a Talented guildmistress.
'I don't think we have any choice,' Dameon said. 'For some reason or other, Jik has to go on the expedition. There is no time to wait for clarification.'
'Which might never come,' Maryon added.
Rushton ran one hand through his hair and sighed. 'I sensed it was time to end our isolation, but I little thought what that would cost.' He turned and nodded at the pile of Normalcy papers. 'Jik will have to use the extra one I had made for the Talent you hope to find. It's too late to make another.'
When they were gone, I went to the window and breathed in the cool night air thinking how strangely things came about. A fortnight before, Jik had been a Herder novice. Now, suddenly, he was vital to Obernewtyn's future. If Zarak had not disobeyed me . . .
I shook my head. One could go mad thinking of alternate possibilities. Kella was right. The present was enough to deal with.
The day of the departure dawned, grim and unseasonably cold.
Grey clouds scudded across a metallic autumn sky. Wind blustered and rain fell in short violent flurries.
I shivered, staring out over the gardens from my balcony. I could imagine vividly in that moment the mountain valley blanketed in ice and snow, the mournful sound of wolves echoing across the frozen wastes. The Lowlands would be much warmer than the mountains, even in winter. Perhaps at last, the scars on my feet would have the chance to heal completely. I had avoided speaking to Roland about my feet for fear Rushton would hear of it and use them as reason to ban me from the expedition. He seemed savagely opposed to my going. Fortunately, Kella understood and had been treating me without telling Roland.
The healer made me think of Maruman. I had gone to see him before firstmeal but, though conscious, he was still dazed and barely coherent. I had wanted desperately to talk to him about the vision I had seen in his unconscious mind.