The Keeping Place

by Isobelle Carmody

  “I’ll come with you tomorrow when you farseek,” Kella murmured. “That way I can drain off any pain as it accumulates.”

  “I’m just going down to the Brown Haw Rises, and I’ll be farseeking any group I can reach from there. Hopefully I won’t need you this time.”

  “Somebody else might. Those soldierguards you mean to lure into Malik’s trap, for instance. I would not trust him to keep his word to leave them unharmed,” Kella responded darkly.

  Angina came out of Dragon’s room. “I thought I heard you out here, Elspeth. Did you farsend to Duria?”

  “Lirra is fine,” I said. “But I think being close to Malik is taking a severe toll on her. Duria seems to think she might not last out. What do you think? If all goes according to plan, she’ll only be there another night and day. The battle will shift down to the lowlands, and she can return to Obernewtyn.”

  “Miky and I would like to ride with you tomorrow as part of the decoy operation. It won’t be so bad leaving Dragon alone for a night if you’re away, and if Lirra is too exhausted, one of us can fill in for her. Apart from all else, we need a break.”

  “Very well,” I said, suspecting the twins disliked sending out their guild members while they remained safely at Obernewtyn.

  I made myself go into Dragon’s chamber then. She lay as beautiful and motionless as ever, and useless tears pricked my eyes.

  “Elspeth?” Aras murmured apologetically at my elbow. “We had better go to the farms. The beastmerge is due to begin.”

  I let her draw me away, feeling guilty, because at some level, I was always glad to leave Dragon’s sick room. As we hurried along the halls, Aras questioned me about what had happened with Duria.

  “I can feed more energy if you start in my mind and let me link with Duria,” she offered. “And I can organize a team to act as an energy source. That way, as long as the others can form the whiplash linkups, we can feed them whatever energy they need.”

  I smiled at her enthusiasm. “Remember when you first told me about this idea? I little knew how valuable it would come to be.”

  She smiled. “I am glad to see it works.”

  “Works! Without it, we would be forced to use an old-fashioned relay of messages. This is almost miraculously swift.”

  “It is hard to believe that this afternoon your mind went all the way from the highlands almost to Sutrium,” she admitted, beaming. “It’s a pity about the Suggredoon or eventually we could go right to Murmroth.”

  “Having someone travel back and forth on the ferry will not cause too much of a delay. Tomorrow we will see if Zarak has heard anything from the west coast. I won’t stop feeling anxious until I have heard from all the teams.”

  That night, I dreamed of Cassy again. She was with the Tiban rebel who had gone with her to the library.

  “You did what?” he demanded, stopping and staring at her. They were in some sort of park.

  “I got a tattoo,” Cassy said flatly, continuing to walk.

  He hurried to catch up to her. “You know this won’t just wash off when you’re sick of it, Cass. You’ll get bored with it in a few years….”

  “I want it to be indelible, and I won’t get bored with it,” Cassy said, pushing her hands deep into her coat pockets. “It’s a symbol of a promise I made.”

  “To that crazy woman?”

  “She’s not crazy.”

  “You know every nutcase swilling synthetic metho in the street prophesies doom and the imminent end of the world.”

  “Maybe they’re right,” Cassy snapped.

  The young man sighed. “Don’t let’s talk about doom when tomorrow—”

  Cassy gave a groan and leaned into his chest. “I swear, every time they send you in, my heart dies a little bit. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

  “Nothing will happen. Any more than the world will end no matter what your precious Hannah says she foresees….”

  My shock was so great that the dream dissolved, and I woke. It was still deep night, and the fire was alight.

  Knowing I needed my strength for the next day, I tried going back to sleep, but hearing that name was too jarring, for it told me that Cassy had contacted Hannah Seraphim. Even more stunning was the dream’s implication that Hannah had foreseen the Great White, for what else had that been but the end of her world?

  I blinked, struck by a queer thought.

  One part of Kasanda’s message had bade me seek a woman who had first foreseen the darkness that would come. Was it remotely possible that this referred to Hannah Seraphim? Or was I forcing impossible connections? After all, there must have been other futuretellers back then, and who was to say that Hannah had been the first to see what would come? And in any case, if she was, how on earth was I supposed to seek a woman so long dead?

  Unless that was what the message meant. Go where that woman’s body lay. Her grave.

  My mind skipped sideways, and I thought of the crumbled cairn the teknoguilders had found. Jacob Obernewtyn’s grave. Where, then, was Hannah Seraphim laid to rest?

  There was a strange poetry in the thought that part of the key to saving the world from a second Great White lay with a woman who had foreseen the first. Certainly there were some tenuous connections between Kasanda and Hannah. The doors to Obernewtyn, for instance…

  “Sleep,” Maruman sent crossly.

  “I’m sorry I woke you,” I sent back.

  “Too late to be sorry,” the old cat grumbled. “Short-sleep is like young mouse to old feline. Hard to catch.”

  “I’m sorry,” I sent again, feeling an ache of love for the battered cat. His mind had grown clearer, but he was little inclined to communicate these days. I stroked him tentatively, and for once he did not object. Soon he was snoring softly, and I drifted back to sleep, too, wondering what promise Cassy had made to Hannah.

  The following day passed all too slowly, for none of us could concentrate on anything but the rebellion, which would begin that very night.

  Far from being nervous, I was only too glad when it was time to ride down to Ceirwan’s camp. Aras, Kella, Roland, Miky, and Angina were also mounted up and attired as gypsies, as were several beastspeakers with empathic or coercive secondary abilities. Lina and another group had ridden down earlier in the day. We had been wary of advertising our presence in the high mountains, and small groups were less remarkable than large ones. Malik had been told that we intended to gather near the soldierguard encampment from all over the Land. Under no circumstances must he learn that we dwelt at Obernewtyn.

  We rode steadily, and passing Guanette, I farsent Duria to let Malik know we would be in position to make our move at midnight as planned. “Has he told you exactly where we are to bring the soldierguards?”

  “He has, but there is no need for me to explain, because I will be in place with him, so you can use me as a guiding focus. The location of the ambush is perfect—a cul-de-sac with steep sides and a single narrow entrance. Whatever else Malik may be, he’s a strategist,” Duria added with grudging admiration. “I don’t think anyone will even have to fire an arrow, because once inside, the soldierguards will see immediately that they have ridden into a trap. Malik will step out of cover with all his men and announce that no one will be harmed if they surrender, and that should be that.”

  “It sounds too simple,” I sent.

  “Simple plans are best,” Duria sent so confidently that my own fears were somewhat allayed. “Oh, I wanted to apologize for letting go so suddenly yesterday….”

  “There is no need,” I cut him off. “I didn’t suppose you did it on purpose. How is Lirra bearing up?”

  “We’ve sent her back to Obernewtyn. It was too cruel to keep her here any longer.”

  I relayed this to Miky and Angina who, after a swift consultation, decided Miky would ride to Guanette to replace the younger empath. I sent as much to Duria, who was obviously relieved. “I don’t like that we can’t gauge Malik’s mind at all with Lirra g
one,” he admitted. “I told him no traitors had been located this side of the Suggredoon so far, and he’s already ranting that they must be in the west coast groups. But from what Zarak said yesterday, I don’t know.”

  “You’ve heard from him?” I asked.

  “I got word from Wila this morning. The only lot who haven’t reported yet are in Murmroth. I decided not to pass this on to Malik, because he’s bound to turn around and start accusing us of incompetence.”

  “I wouldn’t give him any information outside the necessary. But it’s odd news, just the same.”

  “Of course, every rebel hasn’t been tested, because some of them are out in the field,” Duria stressed. “But they won’t be in a position to hamper tonight’s activities.”

  “Let’s hope,” I sent.

  “I will ride with Malik until his people reach Sutrium, if you don’t object. He repels me, but watching him is like watching one of those deadly spiders they have on Norseland. It’s horrible, but it’s fascinating as well. He never uses reason where he can use fear or intimidation instead. What makes such a man?”

  “Who can know? How is Gevan?”

  “Pretty much as I am. He wants me to stay with the rebel group who will take over the Guanette cloister. Malik is leading another group on to the Darthnor cloister, because Lydi’s people may need the support. Gevan will be going with them. The plan is that we must take over the cloisters and be back here ready to ride to the White Valley well before midnight.”

  “Farsend when you’re on the verge of leaving for the Valley. And be careful,” I sent seriously.

  Several hours later, we went down the little-used track that ran between Berryn Mor and the Rises from the main road to the coast. When we had gone far enough to ensure we would not be seen ascending the slopes of the Brown Haw Rises, we set a course for the camp. Ceirwan and the others had erected a small series of canvas huts patterned after the nomadic dwellings that the Sadorians called tents. Though constructed of waxed cloth and hollow poles lashed temporarily together, they were surprisingly good protection against the weather, in addition to being light and easy to carry.

  Ceirwan was preparing an evening meal when we rode up. Before long, we were all eating and talking about the coming night, the horses clustered nearby grazing and communing with the beastspeakers. Miryum and her coercer-knights had arrived, the guilden said, but they had ridden out almost at once to station themselves close to the soldierguard encampment. Miryum wanted to scry out its inhabitants and gain a working knowledge of the daily operation of the establishment. Only then had they carefully constructed, within the minds of key figures within the camp, the illusion that a small band of soldierguards had taken Henry Druid prisoner in a brilliant coup. The soldierguard captains believed a daring rescue attempt would be made by some of the Druid’s men. They had been convinced coercively that this escape must be allowed so that the soldierguards could learn the whereabouts of the Druid’s secret camp in the high mountains.

  It was a meshing of rumors set in motion by Malik’s people and pure coerced illusion, and it played hard upon the ambition of the head soldierguard to become a Councilman. He reasoned that capture of the notorious Henry Druid would make him famous, but the taking of him and all his followers would be a success so spectacular as to make it impossible for the Council to refuse to make him one of them. Whether or not this was true, he believed it, thanks to Miryum’s manipulations. The main problem was convincing the soldierguards that they had Henry Druid in a cell within the camp. The capture and all else could be built of implanted memories, but Miryum had had to create a physical illusion of Henry Druid in the minds of anyone who looked into the cell where he was supposedly being held. For this reason, she had made the soldierguard captains decide to keep their infamous prisoner a secret from the majority of their people for the sake of security. This ensured that only the few entrusted to guard the empty cell would need to be constantly coerced into seeing what did not exist.

  The part the rest of us were to play was ludicrously simple. At some point around midnight, upon a signal from Miryum, we were to erupt from concealment in the forest nearby the encampment and ride wildly up into the high country. Miryum and her team would ensure the soldierguard force followed us.

  Since they could not coerce all the soldierguards individually and constantly, the knights intended to focus on the leaders, both formal and informal. Being soldierguards, the majority would obey their superiors without question, but because there were always men and women who were less slavishly obedient, the coercers had spent a lot of energy locating them and tampering with their minds as well. It was a plan that relied less on brilliant mental strategy and subtlety than on the sheer ability of Miryum and her coercers to control minds. It struck me rather as one of the card houses that moon-fair conjurers liked to construct, but I trusted Miryum’s abilities and her determination. Those, at least, were no illusion.

  “They’ll be so full of the hunger to win glory an’ a fat coin bonus that they won’t wonder why we would allow ourselves to be followed back to our secret camp,” Ceirwan said.

  “Bonus?” I echoed blankly.

  “Miryum means to plant th’ notion at th’ last minute that there is a large reward fer each armsman’s brought in,” the guilden explained. “Greed really is a good emotion to work on, because it almost entirely overcomes the ability to think clearly.”

  “Making sure their greed does not find a target will take a terrific lot of energy. We won’t be able to stop them shooting at us forever,” Angina warned.

  “We won’t need to,” one of the beastspeakers said eagerly. “We’ll be out of their reach for most of the ride, and once we get them to the ambush point, their minds will be on other things.”

  Ceirwan stiffened and looked at me. “It’s Wila, Elspeth. She’s ready to link ye to th’ others.”

  I nodded, and we moved a little aside from the fire as Aras arranged her team into a simple merge. When Ceirwan had established contact with Wila, the young ward connected the two merges with her own probe. I waited until they were all securely engaged, then sent my probe smoothly along the path to Wila.

  “You are so clear!” the older farseeker exclaimed in a startled mindvoice. “It’s like someone is pouring energy into me.”

  “That’s exactly what’s happening, but let’s not waste any time just now on explanations. Can you try linking with Khuria?”

  The connection was established, and as with Wila, Khuria’s surprise shivered it dangerously, but he quickly collected himself. I asked him how matters were proceeding in Saithwold. He explained that Vos had decided to secure Councilman Noviny’s holding before taking over the cloister.

  “I was there last night, scrying to see if there was any sort of alert,” Khuria sent. “It seemed a very peaceful place to me. The servants and bondservants and even the animals are content with their master. I had a brief look into Noviny’s mind, and to tell you the truth, I like him somewhat better than Vos.”

  “He is a better man, by all accounts, and that’s all the more reason to make sure no one gets hurt. You might remind Vos that he will have trouble afterward if he hurts someone as well liked as Noviny.”

  Khuria agreed. “I have been in touch with Zarak, by the way,” he added. “He wants to speak with you. Maybe you can try going through me?”

  The merge felt strong and stable with Aras’s input, so I concurred. I felt him link with Zarak, and at once the Farseeker ward responded. “I’m glad to hear from you,” he sent.

  “It’s an amazing thing that you and Aras have done,” I sent. “I hear you’ve scried out no traitors in Sutrium?”

  “Not a one so far, though a few of Bodera’s people seem to have considered pulling out from time to time, and a number of them are secretly in favor of Malik’s hard line. But I suspect you’d find a few of Malik’s people preferring Bodera’s ideas, too. I told Brydda, but he said that other than outright traitors, he was not interested in knowing
people’s doubts. He said they have a right to doubt and question in the privacy of their own minds. He wanted me to tell him who is most firm in their support of Bodera and who is most trustworthy and faithful. They’re the only ones he’s told the whole plan.”

  “He was ever a canny man,” I sent in admiration. “You’ve been in contact with the west?”

  “I have, and everyone’s in place. The teknoguilders have found all sorts of subterranean tunnels. It seems like what you see aboveground is only the tip of the city. Anyway, the good thing is that they haven’t had to set up on the surface, so there’s almost no chance of their being spotted. Dragon’s illusions all that time ago still keep folk from poking around.”

  I thought of Dragon with a stab of pain and wondered if it would not have been better if she were still there now, rather than comatose in the Healer hall.

  Zarak went on. “The only problem is that someone always has to be aboveground in case anyone tries to reach them. Oh, they said Dell has been dreaming of treachery, but she doesn’t know to whom or what.”

  “Helpful,” I sent tersely.

  “She said she’s trying her best.”

  “I know, but it is frustrating to be given such vague warnings.”

  “Dell said to say this is specifically to do with the west coast. She dreamed of treachery when she was at Obernewtyn, like a lot of the other futuretellers, but she says that it’s different here. She thinks it is another matter entirely.”

  “Treachery on two fronts. That is troubling, but I suppose given the number of people involved in this rebellion, it’s not surprising. Speaking of which, did any of the west coast people scry out traitors?”

  “One or two apparently, but no one really important. They don’t account for the kind of information that was leaked out. Some of us are starting to think that, without a highly placed traitor, the only way the Council can have got hold of some of the things they know was to have had a Misfit working for them.”