I looked at him properly, for the first time, and incredibly, realized I did know his face.
'Daffyd?' I whispered, unable to believe my eyes.
He sat back on his heels. 'Lud save us, it is you, grown into near womanhood. I met you only that once, yet I never forgot what you looked like.'
I sat up too quickly, and the world tilted crazily out of focus. I leaned forward and vomited on the ground, heaving until my stomach ached. Gently, Daffyd wiped my mouth with a piece of cloth. I felt no pain, and the nausea was swallowed up immediately by the suppressing, but I stared down at my legs, frightened. I sensed pain radiating out from them in a fiery arc and being absorbed by the barrier.
'I think you'd better stay still,' Daffyd said. 'You must have breathed in too much smoke. You're lucky I came along when I did.'
I looked at Daffyd searchingly. 'You may call it luck. I call it fortunate chance . . . unless you mean to turn us over to the Druid.'
Daffyd smiled. 'Gilaine spoke to me of you and your friends. This is one Druid armsmen you need not fear. I was surprised when she called you a gypsy, then I realized you must have escaped during the fuss over the Seditioners at Obernewtyn, and somehow ended up travelling with gypsies.'
Daffyd screwed up his eyes and I was astonished to feel a clumsy probe seeking entrance to my mind. The weakest shield would have held him off. It was like watching a baby trying to walk. He sighed. 'I'm not very good at it. Gilaine showed me how to think outside Lidgebaby's net, the way you showed her. It is odd to think we were both Misfits when we met in the Councilcourt that day, though I did not know it then.'
He coughed, as a thick cloud of smoke blew directly into the cave. 'We thought you were dead. The Druid had everyone out searching for you when I arrived. He was convinced it was a trick, even though Gilbert saw the raft go into the mountain.' He frowned. 'Was it a trick then? Have you been hidden in the valley all this while?'
'The raft carried us through the mountain and down to the Lowlands safely, though I would not want to take such a passage again. I came back through the Olden way,' I said. 'It's less poisonous than the Druid thinks. We were trying to get through the compound when the storm struck . . .'
I looked at the cave opening worriedly. 'I hope the others are safe. I pray this firestorm ends quickly.' I made to rise, but all the suppression in the world could not make useless limbs work.
Daffyd laid a gentle hand on my arm. 'Be patient. Even when the storm front passes, there is the rain. We can't brave that and live.' He looked at my legs speculatively.
As if his words were a signal, it began suddenly to rain with great force. For a moment we both looked outside watching steam hiss and billow from the dying fires. I bit my lip and hoped Dragon understood the danger of being out in the stinging rains. It was clear she had known what a firestorm was and had recognized the signs.
The cave we were in was no more than a shallow scoop of erosion and if the rain had been slanting from the opposite direction, it would have filled the cave. As to the fire, the blackened ground showed that it had come to within a single span of the rocks. I shuddered. The area visible from the cave was devastated and some of the trees were still aflame with their eerie blue halo. The beat of falling rain was curiously soothing amidst the sight and smell of destruction and my eyes drooped. The suppressing was draining my reserves.
'Elspeth, Gilaine said you were trying to reach the coast. If you did get through the mountain, why did you come back?' Daffyd asked.
Forcing myself to full awareness, I looked at Daffyd squarely. There was a time to be silent, and a time to speak. I had always found it hard to trust people, but this time I did not hesitate. My infected feet rendered me useless as a messenger, yet someone had to carry my knowledge to Obernewtyn before the pass closed. No matter what had become of Dragon and the others, that was my first priority. Providence had brought Daffyd to me.
The Druid's friend on the Council,' I said. 'What do you know of him?'
Daffyd looked at me closely as if trying to judge if I were delirious. Then he glanced out at the teeming rain and shrugged. 'A couple of years back, a boy stumbled into the camp more dead than alive. The Druid had him looked after, in the hope of some useful information. When he regained consciousness, he claimed to have lost his memory. Eventually, the Druid decided to let him join us. Though fair faced, he was not well liked, yet he had a charm, when he chose to use it. The old man grew fond of him, began to think of him as a son. In the end, he was privvy to the armsmen Councils. Then he came up with a daring plan to infiltrate the Council and feed information back to us. It was a dangerous proposition, but he is an insidious sort of fellow. If anyone could carry out such an audacious plan, it was he. So he went off to Sutrium.' Daffyd shrugged. 'A lot of us thought he would disappear as soon as he was out of the Druid's sight, maybe even betray us, but he did as he had promised, supplying us with luxuries and information, working for the day the Druid comes out of hiding to challenge the powers that be.'
'Ariel. . .' I murmured, not believing for a minute he had lost his memory, or that he worked for the Druid.
'It's strange to hear him named openly,' Daffyd said. The Druid has forbidden us to speak of him by name. How did you come to hear it?'
'We have met before he came to the Druid,' I said bleakly. 'He is a mutant, from Obernewtyn. You have heard of the Seditioners, Alexi and Madam Vega? He was their creature. I did not leave Obernewtyn to join the gypsies. I had to let Gilaine believe that to protect Obernewtyn. The new Master of Obernewtyn has made it a secret haven for our kind of Misfit. We were on a mission when your Druid got hold of us.'
'Then Obernewtyn was not ruined by a firestorm?' Daffyd said.
'No. It is quite safe - so far.'
'But, why are you telling me all this now, if you would not speak of it to Gilaine?' Daffyd asked.
I sighed. 'Because I need you to warn Obernewtyn that Ariel is behind the investigations of Obernewtyn, before the pass is snowed closed.'
'It will open again in spring,' Daffyd said.
'By then it will be too late. The soldierguards will be waiting to ride into the mountains at Ariel's instigation. They will find no firestorm-racked ruins.'
Daffyd looked pensive. 'Ariel always seemed fanatical about Obernewtyn, now that I think of it. He convinced the old man that Obernewtyn was a threat to us. Does he know about you?'
'He thinks I'm dead. And as far as Sedition at Obernewtyn goes, he's guessing. He can't know the truth, but once the Councilguards get up there, it won't make any difference.'
'You know, we heard stories about a place where Misfits would be safe . . . but Obernewtyn.'
'Daffyd, you must help me. Everything we have worked for is in danger unless I can get to Obernewtyn before the pass freezes. Maybe they'll evacuate Obernewtyn, go higher into the mountains. Maybe they'll decide to fight, defend the pass. But if I don't get word to Obernewtyn, they'll be defenceless. Ariel will have won.'
'I still don't understand what Ariel has to gain out of destroying Obernewtyn.'
'Revenge,' I said bitterly. 'He and his Seditious masters were routed by Rushton, the true Master of Obernewtyn. Ariel escaped. We thought he had died. He knows Rushton can expose him to the Druid, or to the Council, as a mutant and a Seditioner.'
Daffyd's eyes narrowed. 'You're lucky I found you and not one of the others. Ariel came up here not long after you had gone. He was very interested in you and your friends. He cursed when there was no trace of your bodies, and swore you had not died.'
'I'm not sure if luck is the right word for it. Daffyd, will you help me?' I asked, too weak for pretence. 'Will you go to Obernewtyn?'
Daffyd's eyes flicked to my legs. I nodded. 'They're badly infected. So far I've been able to block the pain so it wouldn't slow me - one of my more useful Talents. But stopping the pain can't make these legs carry me any further. Help me warn Obernewtyn and join us, you and the others.'
'What about you?' Daffyd asked, after
a long pause.
'I'll be fine. I'll wait for Dragon and Jik, and Rushton can send help for us. The storm is interfering with my farsensing, but once it's over, I will call them to me.'
I looked out of the cave. There were no more flames and a grey curtain of firestorm rain obscured the outside world. Carefully, I related to an astonished Daffyd all that had befallen us in the Lowlands. When at last the rain ceased, I urged him to leave at once.
'You must go now . . .' I began, when an anguished cry shattered the stillness.
It took a moment for me to understand that it was Dragon screaming, the grief in her voice tangible and terrifying. Daffyd gave me one startled look then plunged out into the open.
Long moments later, he returned carrying the prostrate form of Dragon.
'She's not . . .' I began, but he shook his head.
'Fainted,' he said stiffly as if his lips were frozen. His face was very pale as he laid her on the ground inside the cave and wiped the wetness from her bare skin.
'What is it?' I asked, sensing disaster.
He looked up bleakly. 'She had found a body. Burned beyond recognition. It might be one of the people from the compound,' he added unconvincingly.
He reached into a pocket. 'I found this in her hand.' He held out a hand and something glinted dully in his palm. It was a small empath novice token.
I felt the suppressing barrier weaken with shock and revulsion.
Jik. It was Jik.
I was filled with a guilt deeper than anything I had ever imagined possible. I was responsible for his terrible death. I might as well have killed him with my own hands. If only I had left him with Brydda. If we had not brought him away from Obernewtyn, had not brought him out of the Cloister. My teeth chattered and I felt dizzy with horror.
Daffyd knelt beside me and made me drink water from a tin jar. My teeth clattered against the rim. 'It's not your fault,' he said. I held up my hand to stop him offering excuses, trying to make myself cold. But his eyes, filled with honest pity and compassion, were my undoing. I wept then, great choking tears that seemed to take pieces of my soul, because I knew in my heart that Jik's death was no one's fault.
Yet his face rose in my mind's eye, sweet and grave with eyes always a little too old for his years. He had hardly joined us before we had set him on a path to this horrible death. And what had bringing him achieved? Maryon had said he must come, or the expedition, and ultimately Obernewtyn, would fail. I was now certain Jik's presence had been necessary on the expedition only because it ensured Darga's. Maryon had admitted her prediction was unfocused. I could not recall any vital action of Jik's but, without Darga, we would never have found Dragon, or completed our survey of the library, could not have come through the Olden way. But even if Obernewtyn were warned in time, was even that enough to justify Jik's death?
There was no sign of the dog,' Daffyd said quietly. 'It might have escaped.' I shook my head, knowing Darga would never leave Jik in danger by choice.
I wept myself empty of tears.
Daffyd went to bury what remained of Jik's body, and returned looking pale and weary.
'Daffyd,' I said. 'You have to go now, if you mean to go, or it will be too late. Take Dragon.'
'I'll carry you,' Daffyd said. I shook my head. I would slow them to no purpose. Not even Roland could help me now. Too much pain had accumulated.
Dragon was less easy to convince when she woke, since she could not be coerced. She only agreed when I told her Daffyd's friends would be coming to help me. I told her Daffyd needed her help. Jik had told her about Obernewtyn and she had built it up in her mind to be a place of endless happiness where everyone was always safe. Her horror at the manner of Jik's death made her vulnerable, and I exploited this shamelessly.
I made them go immediately, maintaining a calm facçade for Dragon's sake. I shook Daffyd's hand, pressing my armband into his hand. This will make them believe you,' I said softly.
'Is there anything . . . anyone . . .' Daffyd hesitated.
I thought of Rushton as I had last seen him, his hand raised to me through the driving rain. There had always been a strange prickly affection between us, a bond of sorts. It was hard to believe I would not see him again.
I smiled. Tell him . . . Tell them, goodbye . . .' I said.
When they had gone, I sank gratefully into a black feverish sleep filled with dreams, but I did not release the suppressing. At the end, life and sanity were too sweet to give up involuntarily. I knew it would not be long before the barrier gave way of its own volition.
I dreamed a horse with wings came and carried me to the mountain tops. I dreamed Darga was there, and singing to me in Jik's high, sweet voice. I dreamed of Maruman, his fur ruffled by the winds. I dreamed of a voice inside my mind calling and calling.
I dreamed ... of birds.
23
The sound of a breaking branch in the utter silence of the devastated valley dragged me from my feverish drowsing. I had imagined myself beyond fear, but the notion came to me that the sound had been made by a predator seeking easy prey in the aftermath of the firestorm.
I stared out of the cave craning my neck as far as I could to keep from hurting my legs. I dared not overload my mind with any more pain. Miraculously, the suppressing was still intact, although my vision and hearing seemed distorted.
I could see nothing outside but blackened trees and earth, and a drifting haze of smoke. There was no sign of life anywhere, but I felt I was being watched. My scalp prickled and I groped for a rock to use as a weapon, when I heard a distinct rustling noise outside.
'Who's there?' I called, my voice sounding slurred and groggy, a dry, frightened croak.
Letting my mind loose in desperation, I was astounded to find myself listening to a mental dialogue.
'What do you think it is?' one mind asked, sounding perplexed.
'A funaga, of course, what else makes such ugly noises?' came the fastidious response.
Astonished at the strength of minds which were clearly non-human, I projected, farsending my own thoughts, 'Who/where are you?'
'It spoke!' came a third mental voice. Younger than the others, and less controlled, I thought. There were quick shushing thoughts from the other two, who recognized the significance of my mental questions.
I gathered myself, trying to decide if I were dreaming.
Forcing down a mad urge to giggle hysterically, I made an effort to sound normal. 'I know you're out there. There are three of you and I can hear your thoughts!' Nothing. 'Answer me!'
I heard a faint movement and craned my neck, trying to work out which direction it came from.
A shudder of branches caught my eye. Squinting, I realized there were birds in the tree. I let my eyes follow the trunk to the ground, thinking the three Talents might well have disturbed them.
No one.
The branches rustled again and I looked up, wondering what had brought the birds to such a place. Animals generally avoided firestorm-devastated areas for months after, sometimes years. There was no small prey, no insects and no plant life. No reason - yet there they were, just sitting and staring.
One of the birds extended its wings and I drew in a sharp breath at the flash of red on its plumage. Guanette birds. I had seen one up close only once, a stuffed trophy. Even dead, the bird had possessed a quality that had enthralled me, a wild sort of nobility.
I shivered at the memory, for Ariel had slain the bird.
Looking more carefully, I could tell one of the three was a male with the straighter beak and smaller body. The two larger, with curved beaks, were female.
Impulsively, I sent a questing probe to the birds. After a moment, the smaller began to fidget, shifting weight from one claw to the other like a sheepish child. I sent a more aggressive enquiry. The male flexed his wings and gave a faint chirrup.
'Will you answer?' I sent directly to him.
There was no response, and I was unsure I had reached the bird. Its mind was oddly opaque and I
felt lightheaded and weak. Then I felt a probe in my mind. It had entered with such precise delicacy I had not even been aware of being broached. The finest shield I could create would not bar entrance to such a fine-tuned probe.
'Greetings, Funaga,' came the thought, shyly, but with undeniable ability.
'I am Elspeth Innle,' I sent. 'What name/shape may I call to you?'
'Do not speak to it!' came a sharp intrusive probe, no less delicate than the first. I wondered if the infection were somehow weakening my natural defences.
The first hesitated, then spoke again, its presence the merest cobweb in my thoughts.
'My name is Astyanax,' he sent. I heard a brief aside directed to the other mind. 'And it is a She.'
The two females, still side by side on the topmost branch, exchanged a doubtful look and the effect was so like two old women conferring that I laughed in spite of everything.
All three looked up at the sound of laughter. One of the others addressed me. 'Funaga, we of the Agyllians do not give our names lightly. But answer this: are you a male or a female of your kind? It is not easy to tell your sort of creature apart. You all look so much alike, plucked and naked as an eggling.'
'I am female,' I sent, wondering why the strange word sounded familiar. 'What are Agyllians?'
No one seemed ready to answer, and the two females looked at one another for so long, I sensed they were communicating on some unknown level.
Without warning, the silent communion ended and the largest of the three birds dropped from the tree and glided to land near the cave entrance. The bird was much bigger up close, standing higher than a tall man. I drew back nervously, wondering if Guanette birds were carnivorous. For a time after the Great White, many creatures who had before eaten grasses and leaves turned to meat to survive. It was whispered that men had eaten manflesh at the height of the Chaos, but most creatures had reverted to their natural eating habits. Very little was known of the Guanette bird. Pavo once said he believed the bird to be a new species of creature.
'Is it the one?' the bird sent, apparently thinking aloud. It eyed me intently with beady black eyes.
The Farseekers Page 22
