Obernewtyn

by Isobelle Carmody

  "What about dressing up as gypsies?" Dameon said. "With some brown stain and a carriage with bells we could pass for half-breeds."

  "Wonderful!" I cried and he blushed.

  "It seems nearly real when we talk about it like this," Matthew said with a funny chirp of delight Suddenly he stiffened. "Look out. It is our surly friend the overseer."

  "He takes an interest in us," Dameon said. "He does not like what he sees."

  "Maybe he's only interested in one of us," Matthew said with a sly glance in my direction.

  Catching the gist of his thoughts, I scowled. "Don't be an idiot," I snapped. Rushton made no pretense of his dislike and I did not like him either. But it was true that he seemed to watch us. I had abandoned my plan to read him since my encounter with the machine.

  "He's coming," Matthew said, and we all munched our food casually.

  "You! Elspeth, come with me," Rushton said. I looked up but could not make out his expression because the sun was behind him. I stood up and followed him back into the barn.

  "You are foolhardy to make your friendships so blatant," he said. I stared at him in astonishment. What could he care? He shook his head. "But I did not call you to say that. The girl Selmar, when did you last see her?"

  "She sleeps in my room, but she wanders at night," I said, wondering where this was leading.

  "Did she sleep there the night before she disappeared?" he queried.

  "I don't know. I can't remember," I said, completely dumbfounded. "Why do you want to know?"

  "You have no right to ask me questions," he said haughtily.

  I saw red. "And what right have you to ask them of me?" I snapped.

  "I belong here," he said icily. I did not dare speak, he was so angry, "Fool of a girl," he snarled. "Go back to your cows."

  It was too late to join the others, so I went on to the dairy. Once more I tried to ask Louis about Selmar.

  This time he did not fly into a rage. "She were a good girl," he said sadly. I frowned because he spoke as if she were dead. "She's nowt escaped," he added.

  "Where do you think she is then?" I asked him very softly.

  "With that devil-spawned brat," Louis snapped. So he thought she was somewhere with Ariel. "That Doctor will be treatin' her again," he added.

  With a flash of awareness, I admitted to myself what I had begun to suspect since Selmar's disappearance. Louis had spoken of Selmar being different on her arrival in the mountains. He had called her the hope of Ober-newtyn. I did not know what he meant by the latter, but it was blindingly obvious now that Selmar's mind had been destroyed by the Doctor's treatments.

  "He never meant it tP be so, thJ first master didn't," Louis said, unaware of the violent conflicts in my mind. I found it hard to make sense of what he was talking about. Instinct kept me silent as he went on. "He were a good man an' he built this place because he thought th' mountain air were a healin' thing. Two sons an' a wife he had buried already from the rotting sickness an' another burned. He wanted to make this place a sanctuary, then he took another wife. He died an1 his son was too weak to fight against the yellow-eyed bitch. Then th' odier two came, an' that were th' end."

  The old man was talking about the past, but I understood a little of his musings. He had spoken of the first Master of Obernewtyn. That would be Sir Lukas Seraphim, who had moved to the mountains after his family died. That explained why Obernewtyn had been built in the mountains. He had married again—someone Louis called a "yellow-eyed bitch," who had borne a son. That would have been Michael Seraphim, the second Master of Obernewtyn. The rest was inexplicable. Dr. Seraphim was the third Master of Obernewtyn and obviously the son of Michael Seraphim. I wondered what had happened to Michael, and to the mother of the present Doctor.

  An icy shroud fell over my skin as another thought occurred to me. Cameo was now receiving treatments. If what I suspected were true, she was in terrible danger.

  That night, I learned she was not the only one. I was told the Doctor wished to interview me the next day.

  XVII

  Matthew came to the kitchen early the following morning. Not many people were up yet and as it was some time before first-meal we were able to sit alone. Our rooms were always unlocked in the morning by one of the Misfits and it was the only time you could really do as you pleased, depending on how early you got up.

  The cook was in the kitchen, but apart from her hunger to bond Lila to Ariel, she was completely indifferent to the subtleties and undercurrents at Obernewtyn. Usually Ariel was up at this time too, but since his mysterious absence, we felt able to talk privately.

  We talked about him for a while, and Selmar's disappearance. I told Matthew that neither Rushton nor Louis seemed to think she had escaped, whatever anyone else said. But we could not imagine where Ariel was, if he wasn't looking for Selmar. When I told Matthew that I was to see Madam Vega and the Doctor, he reassured me that a lot of Misfits only went to see him onca. A shadow fled across his face and I knew he was thinking of Cameo.

  "You know she has not been taken again for a few days now," I said reassuringly. "Maybe he's finished with her."

  I could not bring myself to tell him just then what Louis had told me about Selmar and what I suspected was the end result of the Doctor's treatments.

  "That murderous bastard," Matthew said forcefully, as if he saw what was in my mind. "Do ye know Louis once warned me to watch out for him? He said there was a dragon in the Doctor's chamber. What does that mean?"

  "I might find out soon enough," I said, and he looked at me with quick sympathy. I changed the subject. "Louis told me something odd yesterday. He said the first master here opened the place to Misfits because he thought the clear mountain air would help them."

  Matthew laughed. "Now I bet that's a story." He grinned.

  "I don't know. He thinks it's true. He seemed to think it went wrong because of Lukas Seraphim's wife. He really hated her." I did not really know why I was repeating Louis's nonsense, except that it took my mind off Cameo.

  Matthew shrugged. "What happened yesterday, when you went with Master Mucky-muck?"

  "Oh, Rushton was his usual friendly self. That was when he asked me about Selmar."

  The door opened and one of the Misfits entered with a stranger.

  "Who is that?" Matthew whispered.

  I shrugged but something about the stranger seemed familiar. He sat at one of the tables and Andra gave him something to eat. He was very tall and tanned and the knees of his pants were sturdily patched.

  "So where do ye come from?" asked the boy who had come in with him. Matthew had nicknamed him Sly Willie because he was an informer.

  "From a village in th' East. I had to cross badlands to get here. No one warned me," the man grumbled.

  "We don't get many visitors up here," Willie said.

  The stranger shrugged. "I repair things. I go where there is work. I heard nobody comes here so I figured there would be plenty to do. Potmetal is my specialty."

  Hearing this, Andra came forward. Most of the kitchen pots were in need of repair. Watching the man's face, I was more than ever convinced that I had seen it before. But where? It seemed important for me to remember.

  Willie hung around the man until the cook cuffed him and sent him about his business. He came over to us. "Ariel said you're to help me repair some stairs," he said.

  Matthew stood at once. We could not talk while he was there. "I'll come now," he said and followed Willie out.

  I stayed in the kitchen when the others left to go down to the farms. The man repaired some pots, then went away to fix some of the farm implements. Still I could not recall where I had seen him before. Willie came back just before midmeal saying he was to take me to Madam Vega. I was glad to go, for the waiting had made a wreck of me. My stomach churned nervously. We went back to the entrance hall, then through a doorway on the other side leading into a windowless hall. The way was lit by pale green candles that flickered and hissed as we passed.

&nb
sp; At the end of the hall was a small room, obviously a waiting room adjoining a larger chamber. Willie made me wait. He knocked on the door to the inner chamber before entering. I had not been to this part of Obernew-tyn before and reflected that in its own way, the complex was like the maze with its halls and endless doors. There were strict rules about where one could go, and I wondered what went on in the forbidden sections.

  Willie returned, disrupting my reverie and my calm as he gestured for me to go in.

  Taking a deep breath outside the door, I pushed it open resolutely, determined to stay calm no matter what happened. My first impression on entering was of heat. A quick look around revealed the source—a fire burning brightly in an open fireplace. Spare wood was piled high on one side of the fire, and two fat, comfortable-looking armchairs were drawn up facing the hearth. The stone floor was covered by a brightly colored woven rag and there were a number of attractive hangings on the walls. It was a pleasant, lavish room compared to the rest of Obernewtyn.

  Against the back wall of the room was a desk and behind this a wide window with a magnificent view of the cold arching sky and the jagged mountains. I stared, mesmerized, thinking how much better the view was from this height Madam Vega stepped abruptly into my line of sight, with the same vivid blue eyes and the same stylish attractive figure that I remembered. But her expression was no longer the coy, girlish one she had worn during her visit at Kinraide. Her blue eyes were cold and calculating, and her lips, though beautifully curved, did not look like they smiled much. Even so, I found it difficult to be intimidated by her, though I had reason enough to know this was an effective ruse calculated to lower defenses.

  She waved impatiently at a chair. I walked forward, and choosing a hard upright chair, I sat down.

  "It pleases me to see you looking happier than at our last meeting," she said briskly as if she did not really care. "You should have told me you were a dreamer and that you had been in tainted water. I thought..." She hesitated. I saw she was angry at her mistake and wondered why. A strange smell seemed to emanate from the fireplace and I felt slightly sickened by it "I told you there was no need to fear Obernewtyn. You don't fear it now, do you?" That was easy, I shook my head eagerly, concentrating on keeping my eyes clear and unhesitant

  "Well then," she said sweetly. She sat back in her seat and watched me through narrowed eyes. "I hear you have even made some friends," she said.

  I thought of Rushton and damned him. It seemed he was an informer after all. "I only eat with them at meals," I said hastily. "I won't do it again."

  Irritation flicked over her features. "There is nothing wrong in making friends here. As a matter of fact, you could help me. I need someone bright like you to... keep an eye out for me."

  I stared. "I couldn't be an informer," I said with honest disgust. I would pretend stupidity but not that.

  "Of course I would not ask you for that No," she said so kindly that I was filled with suspicion. "All I want you to do is keep a watch out for any Misfits who seem ... different. I am concerned that some do not tell us the full extent of their... mutancy. It is most unfortunate because we want to help them." She did this beautifully and even saw a hint of tears in her eyes. But what she had said terrified me too much for me to be taken in by her wiles.

  My heart was mumping so hard that I was certain she must hear it. What did she mean by Misfits who were different?

  "I do not want to hear anything of petty misdeeds. I want to know of anyone with unusual or undisclosed deviations of the mind," she said. She regarded me closely and I could do no more than nod.

  She sighed, and launched into an oft-repeated lecture on Obernewtyn. "As for your stay here, you must not cherish any hope of leaving this place. Escape and death are the only ways. I do not imagine you want to die, and, as for escape, the nearest settlement is Darthnor, some leagues from here and off the main road—a mining town. And of course there is the tainted ground which the highlanders prefer to call badlands. I'm sure you noticed them in your journey here. On ail sides of Obernewtyn lies the wilderness. Do not imagine that you have seen wilderness before, perhaps even roamed in it, for this is true wild country, untamed by men. The forests are filled with wolves of the most savage kind and there are still bears living in the heights. Even stranger things dwell in these shadow-pocked high mountains.

  "The wintertime alone is more dangerous than either wilderness or beast, and when the snows come we are completely cut off from the Lowlands. That is why we need few guardians. In wintertime all the guardians but Myrna go back to the Lowlands. You must accept this life here and put freedom from your thoughts."

  While speaking she had gradually circled the desk, her eyes on a black beetle that had come out of the wood and set off on a trek across the rug. An odd glitter came into her eyes as she reached out a dainty foot and crushed the squat creature.

  I repressed a shudder of revulsion.

  "Now. I am sure you will be of much help to me," she purred. "Cameo tells me you are her friend?" she added.

  I felt the snakelike coil of fear in my belly. "She is defective," I said with a shrug, but I wondered how much Cameo had said.

  "Have you ever noticed anything... unusual about her?" Madam Vega asked, so casually I knew it was important.

  "She has true dreams sometimes," I said, knowing she must know that already.

  "Very well," she said with sudden impatience. "I am going to take you to the Doctor's chamber now," she added, coming toward me, her satin dress whispering to the rug. She walked behind me and I felt her breath stir my hair. A moment of blind terror made me want to turn where I could see her but I forced myself to be still.

  "Come," she said, and I followed. One of the panels alongside the fireplace was an ornate door, so intricately worked I had not even known it for a door. It opened into a narrow dark hall, which smelled of damp. There was a candle on either side of a door at the end of the short hall, and this had obviously been carved by the same hand that had carved the front doors. It had the same theme too—of cavorting man-beasts. The only human figure in the picture was chained to a tree. As Madam Vega unlocked the door, a great wave of heat rushed out.

  The Doctor's chamber was an enormous circular room with no windows, but there was a huge skylight in the center of the roof. A fireplace almost as big as the one in the kitchen provided the heat. There were books everywhere, not only of recent origin, easily recognizable by their coarse workmanship and purple Council stamp of approval, but also hundreds of books from the Old-time. The walls were lined with bookshelves, each full to overflowing. There were tables everywhere and these, too, were piled with books and papers and maps.

  "Dr. Seraphim?" called Madam Vega. There was a flurry of movement and a rotund man emerged smiling from a dim corner. If this was the Doctor, he looked completely different from what I had expected. Certainly I had not imagined a smile, but when I looked at him more closely, there was something not quite right about his face.

  "Another Misfit," he sighed. He peered shortsightedly into my face. He giggled suddenly and slapped his leg. He had a high-pitched, almost hysterical laugh. I had the sudden mad notion that he was defective.

  "You are a cool one," he gurgled coyly. I did not know what to say and I glanced helplessly at Madam Vega, who was looking around with a frown. She walked away.

  "You don't look like a Misfit," the Doctor said. "But the taint rarely shows. Vega tells me you are a dreamer and that tainted water caused your dreams. I have not seen anyone affected so by water, who lived," he said. That at least explained why he wanted to see me. How ironic that a lie meant to protect me from curiosity should arouse interest for its own sake. "I do not have a great deal of time at the present but I am going to write your name down for future research." He began to look for a pencil and I glanced around, wondering where Madam Vega had gone. I had seen no other door. There was a portrait of a woman hanging in a small alcove. I felt instantly repelled by the painted face.

  "I see
you are looking at my dear grandmama," said the Doctgr. "Her name was Marisa," he whispered.

  I saw the chance to ingratiate myself. "She is beautiful," I said admiringly, though I thought the face too sharp and cold for beauty. There was a fiery gleaming intelligence in the eyes.

  "She is that," said the Doctor rather sadly. "It was such a shame she had to die." I stared at him, but he had discovered a pencil at last. "Elspeth Gordie, wasn't it?"

  I nodded, thinking that this was the woman Louis had called a meddling yellow-eyed bitch.

  "Misfits are not always what they appear to be. Often there are more demons which the treatment reveals."

  I looked at my feet, afraid the cold hatred in my heart would show in my eyes. The only demons in people's minds were the ones put there by treatments. Blind to my lack of response, he had stopped pacing and was now staring blankly at the ground between us as if he had fallen into a trance.

  Presently he spoke again. "I treated a girl once who harbored amazing demons. Selmar was her name. My treatments rendered her quite docile in the end. Presently, I am treating another who may be hiding demons."

  I gaped openly, wondering if I had gone mad. Surely this could not really be the terrible, powerful Dr. Seraphim. And was it really possible fear of him had reduced Selmar to the timid, shivering half-wit I had met that first day at Obernewtyn? I could hardly credit it. He seemed so completely ineffectual.

  "Doctor, I do not think you should discuss such matters with a Misfit," said a voice as rich and smooth as undiluted honey.

  "Alexi," said the Doctor, looking over my shoulder with a furtive, almost guilty expression. I turned slowly and there, half-concealed by a shelf, stood a tall beautiful man with shining white hair. His skin was pale and soft like that of a child and his eyes were the coldest and darkest I had ever seen. As he stepped closer, I felt an overpowering urge to step away. I forced myself to be calm, but a mad fear was barely leashed inside me.