The Seeker (64 page)

“It will take much to convince me to let you go away again,” he said gravely. “Yet I sense you don’t really belong to us or to Obernewtyn. There is something in you that holds you ever apart. You are like a piece of smoke in my hand.”

“I am glad to be home,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

A wintry smile lit his dark features. “Home? This is the first time I have heard you call Obernewtyn that.”

I smiled. “You would be astonished at how often I thought of it that way and longed to be here. What is that saying Louis has?”

“The greenest grass is home grass … something like that.” He gave me a long look. “You are a strange one, Elspeth. Everything you do is mysterious and unexpected. Roland is sadly puzzled over the healing of your feet. He tells me even the scars have disappeared—something he assures me is impossible. The coercers talk of nothing but your ability to coerce as well as Gevan, and the healers praise your miraculous healing of Maruman. Not to mention the change in Gahltha. And what of your sudden appearance when we had thought you dead? How much more is there about you that you choose to keep hidden? I would swear you tell more to Gahltha and that cat than to any of us.”

I suppressed an urge to smooth the frown from Rushton’s forehead. I had never imagined loving anyone, and I had always believed Rushton incapable of doing so. Perhaps I was wrong in both cases. But something stayed my hand and tongue.

My life would not be fully my own until I had fulfilled my vow to destroy the weaponmachines. Until that was done, I could not truly belong anywhere or to anyone; I had no right to think of Rushton as anything but the Master of Obernewtyn while my dark quest lay before me. That secret set a tiny chasm between us. And until that was gone, I did not belong even to myself.

“Tomorrow you go to the lowlands,” I said, wanting to distract him.

He looked out beyond the walls of Obernewtyn. “Maryon said the time to take our stand is not far away. I want to meet Brydda’s friends and see how they regard Misfits. There is no good our making allies of bigots, and despite his optimism, I think not all his friends will welcome us with open arms.”

“What about Ariel? Domick said he has taken vows to become a Herder,” I mused.

Rushton shrugged. “We have nothing to fear from those dabblers in dresses. But Ariel has much to fear from me. I’ll deal with him once I have dealt with the Council.”

I looked at him, hoping he was right.

“We have come far, but the road is not yet ended,” Rushton said.

I sighed. “Don’t you think of anything but fighting battles and winning? There must be more to life than that.”

“More? Perhaps,” Rushton said. “But life is a battle just the same, whether you fight it with weapons or with words. You have to fight for what you believe in and for the things you want.”

Abruptly, he held out a hand. “Dance with me.”

I stared at him, astonished. I had never seen Rushton dance, and I did not dance myself. I opened my mouth to say so, but the words died on my lips.

His arms went about me, lightly and impersonally as one might hold a piece of soap.

“I have always fought for what I want,” Rushton said with calm determination.

EPILOGUE

I
T WAS RAINING
.

“Soon the coldwhite will come again,” Maruman sent.

I looked down at him, marveling again at his recovery. His appearance was as disreputable as ever, but his eyes shone with their old stringent light. We were in the Futuretell hall, waiting for Maryon.

“The time of cold is the time when Obernewtyn is safest, secure behind a barrier of snow and ice,” I sent.

“There are some things no barrier can hold away,” Maruman sent.

I stared at him, suddenly uneasy. “What do you mean?”

“When the others come, it will be time to make the dark journey,” he sent.

I shivered, knowing at once what he meant, though we had barely spoken of it since the day I had returned from the mountains. “What others?” I sent.

“You will not go alone,” Maruman responded. “The oldOne has promised.” I received a vague mental picture from Maruman of what looked like many dogs. One, I knew.

“Darga?” I whispered, wondering if it was really possible Darga had survived and, if so, where he was. And what did he have to do with my quest?

“He will come, and when he returns, it will be time. Best to forget until then,” Maruman sent.

I dared not ask him to explain. Maruman had only ever told what he wanted and no more. Besides, I thought morosely, I would know soon enough if what he said was true.

If Darga returned …

I wondered suddenly if this had anything to do with Maryon’s request for me to call on her. I was aware she was more likely than anyone else to see what lay ahead for me. Already I had appeared in her dreams, but as yet she had not fathomed the meaning.

Abruptly, I felt cold with premonition. Unlike Maryon and those of the Futuretell guild, my ability to see the future was restricted and infrequent. Most often, my premonitions were no more than a strong feeling of danger, but I had become accustomed to trusting them.

Sensing my mood, Maruman looked at me, his yellow eyes gleaming in the dull evening light. “Fear or no, you must do what must be done. You are the Seeker.”

“That’s what scares me most,” I sent. “If I fail …” Strangely, Rushton’s face and his words on the day of our moon fair came into my thoughts.

Life is a battle. You have to fight for what you believe in.…

“Even the funaga have their times of wisdom, rare though these come,” Maruman sent with oblique humor.

I laughed.