The Farseekers

by Isobelle Carmody

  Rushton smiled slightly. 'I vote that we accept the expedition proposed by Elspeth, with the addition of another person, whom I will choose, who will leave the main party after Rangorn, and move into Sutrium. An expedition that can have two purposes, can as easily have three. Now we will vote on the expedition with its threefold purpose, and on the establishment of a safe house in Sutrium. Yes, first.' He lifted his own hand.

  I raised mine, hiding a reluctant smile. Rushton was never truly defeated. He knew Garth would never have agreed to the move on Sutrium without the lure of the coveted library. In the end, the vote was unanimous. Perhaps all felt that the time had come, whether we were ready or not, for a less passive strategy. At any rate, no one liked the idea of waiting like a lamb to be slaughtered.

  Rushton rose to close the meeting formally, but was interrupted by a commotion outside the doors.

  Christa entered, her smooth face worried.

  Seeing me, she beckoned urgently. 'Elspeth, it's Maruman. He's having some sort of fit. You had better come quickly.'

  3

  Maruman had been taken to the Healer Hall. As usual after days of wandering, often on tainted ground, his fur was filthy and singed in places, and dried blood matted the fur on one paw. But he looked no worse than he had on any other return. The wan afternoon light slanted obliquely from one of the high, slit-like windows to lay across his body, making it seem insubstantial, while candles burning all round the hall gave the room a ghostly orange tinge.

  In the bed alongside the old cat's was a girl, heavily bandaged. She had been literally wrested from the Herders' purifying flame and had been unconscious since her arrival. One of the futuretellers sat beside her sunk in deep concentration.

  I let my eyes rove around the room.

  Two of the Guanna lay on a treatment bed near one wall. For a moment I had a vivid recollection of the night the dog Sharna had been torn to pieces by the savage wolves while trying to help me. I knew the healers were trying to treat the minds of the wolves who had been trapped and driven insane by Ariel. He had used them to guard the grounds and to help him hunt down and kill runaways. But his sadistic treatment had made healing almost impossible.

  I looked up to see Alad come through the door.

  'He looks like he's asleep,' I said.

  Christa shook his head, nodding at the meditating futureteller, 'She can hardly think for Maruman's emanations. I don't understand how you can't feel them,' she added.

  'I have my shield up,' I explained. I dissolved the protective mental barrier and almost staggered beneath the force of gibberish flowing from Maruman's mind. I had seen Maruman during other fits, but none so severe. 'I see what you mean.'

  I saw from Alad's expression that he had lowered his own shield. 'Usually I find the flow of beast thought soothing,' he said ruefully.

  Looking at the sleeping cat, it was hard to believe the insane babble rose from his mind.

  'He was lying outside the Futuretell wing when we found him. It looked as if he had dragged himself there,' Christa said.

  'It seems worse than usual. Is it a fit?' I asked.

  She looked down at the old cat. 'The truth is that his mind is such a mess generally it is a wonder he can think straight even some of the time. I can't imagine what caused the damage in the first place, perhaps a traumatic birth. The amazing thing is that his mind seems to have adapted itself. There are the most extraordinary links and by-passes - yet somehow it all functions. The fits he usually has are the result of some sort of upward leak in his mind, where material from the deepest unconscious levels rises to distort his everyday thinking, hence the wild futuretelling, but this . . .'

  'What do you make of it?' I asked Alad.

  He sighed. 'I'm a simple beastspeaker. This is beyond me. I've sent for Gather. He has a small Talent for deep- probing as well as being a strong beastspeaker. No one else has that combination. Christa suggested it since she has no Talent as a beastspeaker and Maruman will not allow her to enter him. Perhaps he will permit a beastspeaker to deepprobe.'

  'I can deepprobe,' I said.

  Alad raised his brows, then he looked at the cat pensively. 'You could try. He's less likely to oppose you. I'm afraid if it goes on much longer he'll die of exhaustion. He looks calm enough but this is pulling him apart.'

  I stared down at the battle-scarred old cat, tears pricking my eyes. He looked so vulnerable. He would have hated that. I stroked him, fighting for control.

  'Is there no healer free to ease him?' I asked gruffly.

  Tactfully Alad examined the window. 'They have done all they can. He's in no pain.'

  'What can I do?' I asked.

  'Go into his mind,' Alad said. 'See what you can find out. Make him wake, if you can.'

  'I've never tried to deepprobe him before. What if he resists? I might hurt him.'

  Alad shook his head impatiently. 'He'll die if you can't help him. He is more wild than tame and you know as well as I, the wild ones are hardest to reach, even in a normal communication.'

  With a feeling of dread, I sat on the stool beside the bed. I stroked Maruman's coarse fur gently, willing him to wake. I was repelled by the idea of entering my old friend's most private mind. I could not have borne such an intrusion myself. I was uncertain I could overcome my own mental block, let alone any Maruman might throw up.

  Alad patted my shoulder. 'It might be that you are the only one he will permit to enter him. You might not have to force your way.'

  I bit my lip then closed my eyes. Loosing a deepprobe tendril gently into the first level, I forced myself to ignore the screaming gibberish that assaulted me the instant my screen was down. For a moment I was swept along like a leaf in the dizzy maelstrom of Maruman's unconscious mind. I had a fleeting temptation to let myself go, but concentrated on Alad's hand on my shoulder, forcing myself to the next level.

  I slipped through effortlessly.

  Alad was right. Maruman was letting me in.

  I drifted deeper, concentrating to avoid the forgetting which was one of the greatest dangers inherent in entering an unconscious mind.

  Deeper still and suddenly the susurration of the upper levels ceased. It was very quiet and still.

  'Maruman,' I whispered. 'Maruman?'

  I sensed a ripple in the fabric of the cat's unconscious mind. In a sense, I knew, I was inside his dreams. I went deeper still. Again I whispered his name.

  This time he responded. 'Elspeth Innle . . .'

  'Come with me,' I invited trying to draw him to the upper levels and wakefulness. I was buffeted gently by his refusal.

  'Can not. Mustwait,' he responded.

  I was puzzled. 'Wait for what?'

  There was no answer. I asked again. 'Mustwait until Seeker comes.'

  This was a name Maruman sometimes called me. More confused than ever, I said, 'I am the Seeker.'

  'Deeper. Must come deeper,' Maruman responded instantly.

  'Whymust?' I asked.

  'The Old One wishes it.'

  I shivered violently, becoming suddenly conscious of my physical presence in the Healer Hall. I forced myself to concentrate, but I was unnerved. It struck me that Maruman had let me in easily because he had wanted me to enter his deepest mind. Why? I could only know that by slipping deeper but I was almost at my limit. The desire to rise was powerful and my energy was running away quickly. Before long I would have no choice. I would not have the strength to remain. If I were to go deeper, I had to do it immediately.

  Yet I hesitated.

  At the depths of the mind is a great unconscious mind-stream. It was into this that the futuretellers dipped for their predictions. Without training it was possible for a mind to literally dissolve. I was already deeper than I had ever gone before.

  I braced myself. Fighting an irresistible urge to rise, I pushed my mind fraction by fraction into the depths. All at once the void seemed to brighten and, below, I was aware of the shining silver rush of the mind-stream.

  Now I felt an
opposite tug from the stream itself, a siren call to merge. My innate fear of losing myself gave me the strength to resist.

  'I have come,' I grated.

  'Deeper,' Maruman urged. 'Must come deeper.'

  I was frightened now, for it was possible Maruman did not realize the danger. I hesitated and felt myself begin to rise. I clamped on my probe and forced it deeper. Now I could feel the wind of the stream and its incredible cyclonic energy below. It seemed to sing my name in an indescribably lovely voice, willing me to join. Again, fear of losing my identity helped me to resist. Then, suddenly, the pull to join the stream and the pull to rise equalized exactly and I floated motionless.

  Then I was on a high mountain in the highest ranges, the air around me filled with cold gusts of wind. I was inside the body of Maruman. I felt the wind ruffle his/my fur. I/We waited.

  An illusion, but real as life.

  I/We licked a paw and passed it over one ear.

  Then I felt the calling. It was not a voice so much as an inner compulsion. Maruman/I rose at once and began to walk, balancing with easy grace on the jagged spines of rock leading to a higher peak. It was there, I sensed, that the calling originated.

  Then I heard my own name, but the voice was not Maruman's.

  I was so astonished that the mountain illusion wavered and for a moment I saw, overlaid, the Healer Hall. I was in Maruman's deepest mind, and yet heard a calling that used my name!

  'Do you know me?' I ventured.

  'I have always known you,' came the response.

  'Who are you? What are you?'

  'I/We are Agyllian,' it answered, in a tone a mother might use in speaking to a small child. 'I have used the yelloweyes to communicate with you, Elspeth Innle, knowing you would come to his deepest mind. He is weary to death and it would be kind to let him join the Stream, but he is not ready to go yet and nor, I think, are you ready to let him go. His pain and his strange mind make him receptive to us and allow us to use him.'

  Then it's you making him sick,' I said indignantly.

  'Be at ease. He permitted it. He will suffer no harm, but he can sustain us little longer lest he pass into the Stream of his own accord. I come only to warn you that your tasks have not ended, and to remind you of your promise. The death machines slumber, waiting to be wakened. While they survive, the world is in danger. When the time is right for you to seek out the machines, you must be ready to act swiftly and without doubt. You must not allow the concerns of your friends or your own needs to sway you. When the time for the dark journey is near, you must come to us and we will provide you with help.'

  'Journey? What journey?' I cried, but I was alone.

  The mountains dissolved and I used the last of my strength to rise to where the upward drift would carry me to the surface of Maruman's mind. I was vaguely conscious the upper levels were now quiet.

  'Are you all right?' Alad asked tensely as I opened my eyes. I was slumped in the chair, soaked with perspiration and vaguely amazed to find it was dark.

  He reached out and touched Maruman gently. 'He will recover. He's sleeping normally now. What did you do?'

  I was too tired to answer. Seeing I was nearly asleep in the chair, Alad and one of the healers helped me to my room.

  Yet lying in bed, I found myself unable to sleep, and even the following day I was preoccupied with the memory of the voice inside Maruman's mind.

  Had it been a deepprobe illusion? They were common among Futuretell novices unused to the strict mental discipline required to deepprobe successfully. But I had not been in my own mind. Such an illusion ought to have been a distortion of Maruman's thoughts, but apart from imagining that I was using Maruman's senses as I occasionally used Matthew's, there had been no sense of invading the cat's dream.

  It was possible the illusion had risen from my own conscience, and from my fleeting worry about what Henry Druid, if he still lived, might find in his meddling with the past. Perhaps that and my visit to the Teknoguild caves had stirred up too many old ghosts, and the vision in Maruman's subconscious was the result.

  Perhaps not.

  It was hard to separate reality from illusion in the deeper levels of a mind but, if I had imagined it, why had Maruman been released from his torment the moment I had left his mind? Yet if it had not been an illusion, what had spoken through Maruman to me?

  And what of its words? The voice had warned me about the weapon machines, reminding me of my vow to destroy them before they could be used. It had warned me to be ready to act when the time was right. But how would I know?

  I shivered. I wanted to ask someone's advice, but suspected everyone, even Dameon, would tell me I had imagined the whole thing.

  Yet they did not know that the weapon machines had survived. Ironically Alexi's tortures had enabled me to see the death machines, but I had kept the secret, believing the knowledge too dangerous even for Rushton.

  Both Maruman and poor Sharna had believed me to be a mysterious being in beast mythology named the Seeker, who they claimed was destined to fight a dark battle to save what remained of the world. It was too fantastic to believe.

  Or was it? I was certain the voice in Maruman's mind had not been human - perhaps it had been some kind of animal. Was it possible those of the beast world knew something the humans, or funaga, did not? I wondered if I should speak to Maryon or one of the other future-tellers, to ask for a future reading.

  Fortunately, a busy Guildmerge meeting to sort out details of the coming expedition drove all these thoughts to the back of my mind. After the meeting I went to see Maruman. He had not wakened, but the sleep was natural. The best kind of medicine, Roland had said reassuringly.

  Coming across the lawns from the Healer Hall, I found myself thinking of the Guildmerge and Rushton's plans and feeling more certain than ever that things were about to change at Obernewtyn. Glancing up, I half expected to see dark clouds gathering overhead, but the sky was a clear and cloudless blue.

  Inside, I noticed Dameon making his way down the hall towards the kitchens with Matthew.

  I watched them approach, wondering what kept Dameon from running into things. His empath ability would not help him see, yet he was never clumsy.

  'Elspeth?' he said unexpectedly in his soft beautifully spoken voice. His father had been a member of the Council before his death, and Dameon had been a product of that privileged class before a cousin had arranged to have him judged Misfit, and Claim the deceased estate. It was one of the beauties of the Misfit charge that it could not be absolutely proven or disproven.

  'Are ye sure ye canna see?' Matthew asked the empath, walking behind because of the narrowness of the hall at that point.

  Dameon smiled sweetly. 'I possess neither sight nor the wondrous magic of your precious Oldtimers,' he teased. 'I knew Elspeth was there because of your reaction to her.'

  'You empaths!' Matthew exploded. 'I thought I had th' shield in place then. Ye'd think emotions at least ought to be private.'

  'You need to perfect that shield,' Dameon admonished. 'Do you think I want to be privy to your emotional turmoils, entertaining though they are?'

  Matthew blushed to the roots of his hair. 'One canna always be screenin' every thought,' he muttered.

  Dameon laughed aloud. I bit my lip to conceal my own amusement and Dameon smiled accurately in my direction. There was a touch of sadness in his face that had not always been there. I looked up to see Matthew give me a speculative look. Annoyed that he seemed to know something I did not, I was tempted to probe him.

  'Come, or we will arrive for midmeal at firstmeal,' Dameon said so pointedly, I wondered if he had somehow deepprobed me.

  Rushton called Dameon his conscience and suddenly I understood why.

  Dameon held out his arm and I took it with a wry smile. 'I hear young Una has been up to her tricks again?' he asked over his shoulder.

  Matthew scowled blackly. 'It was nowt so much the prank as her gettin' me so flustered I sat next to Miryum at nightmeal. That gir
l has as much grace an' wit as a lump of stone.'

  'Yet she is guilden,' Dameon said with faint reproach.

  Matthew looked put out. 'She has Talent, I grant ye. But all she ever thinks about is the latest way to make people do things they dinna want to do. I dinna see how ye can bide her,' he added, belatedly remembering Dameon spent a lot of time with the coercers in his work with Rushton.

  The sound of cutlery clinking and laughter flowed down the hall from the kitchen to meet us. There had long been vague plans to open up another room as a proper dining area, but somehow the alcoves adjoining the kitchen remained the main eating area.

  Guilds had got into the habit of sitting together for meals, but most of the masters sat at the head table with Rushton. He seemed to think of meals as another kind of strategy meeting.

  Dameon saw me seated then went to join his guild members. The empath spent most of his time working with Rushton and he had long ago offered to forgo his place as master of the Empath Guild, to make way for Miky and Angina, who managed it in his name. The twins had refused emphatically. No other guild had quite the same love for their master as the empaths. They made little official demand on his time, but at social occasions they were possessive.

  I was seated beside Rushton. Domick was on the other side of him and they were both absorbed in something being said by Gevan, master of the Coercer Guild. Rushton's soup was untouched.

  I sighed and wondered if he ever noticed anything he ate, or enjoyed a conversation just because it was fun.

  I noticed Louis Larkin standing just inside the kitchen courtyard door peering about short-sightedly. He hated coming to the house, preferring to eat in the farm kitchen. I wondered what had been important enough to bring him to the main house.

  I sent a probe to Matthew, telling him to find out what Louis wanted. 'He says he must talk with you,' Matthew sent after a moment. 'Will not tell me. Can't crack grouchybugger's shield.'

  I sighed. Louis was just as hard to get along with as he had always been. His hair stuck out like coils of wire on each side of his head, but was sparse on top. His cheeks and nose were red with cold but he insisted I come outside before he would talk. Matthew came too, closing the door behind him. It was growing colder and my breath came out in little puffs of cloud.