The Seeker

by Isobelle Carmody

  For a long time, we simply stood there and stared. Even Pavo, who must have anticipated such a find, was struck dumb by the scale of the storehouse. Surely all the knowledge of all the ages of man before the holocaust must be contained in the thousands of books we saw before us.

  Then Pavo stepped forward and laid his hand reverently on one of the books. “Just think of it,” he said in a voice that trembled with excitement. “We are the first in hundreds of years to come here. The first since the Oldtimers.” He gathered himself visibly.

  “The books are old and frail. Only the dry air has preserved them. Handle them lightly and as little as you can. Look for books on Oldtime machines like the Zebkrahn and books on healing. Also any showing maps of the old world. The Beforetimers were very orderly. If you find one map book, you will have found all such books,” he said. “We will each take a different section. Bring anything worth looking at to me, but mark your place so you don’t forget where it came from.”

  I padded to the far end of the vault, amazed at the scale of it. Despite the orderly arrangement of the books, the sheer volume made it hard to find what we wanted. And though I understood the words, many of the books made no sense to me, being filled with references to things I did not understand. Some of those I could piece together offered up bizarre notions and ideas.

  One book claimed there had once been midget races of various kinds—squat, wizened men with huge axes and tiny people with wings. Another book talked of a land where there were men and women taller than skyscrapers. Kella came hurrying down to show me a book she had found showing drawings of people with fish tails instead of legs.

  I began to feel bewildered. If there had been so many different kinds of races, what had happened to them all?

  Jik gave a shout. He had found a book showing wonderfully clear pictures of a Beforetime city. Pavo stopped his sorting to explain that the remarkably lifelike pictures had not been drawn by artists but were actual images of reality, somehow preserved by a process designed by the Oldtimers.

  Jik’s book seemed to be composed entirely of such images showing a number of Beforetime cities in all their glory. Here were the dark towers we had seen in the city under the mountain but lit by bright lamps, thousands of them. “Cities of light,” Kella whispered, awed. It was hard to reconcile the dark, decaying city under Tor, or the rubble above us, with the sheer beauty of those images.

  Jik was the first to find a map, though whether it was real I couldn’t say. It’s fringes showed beasts unlike any I’d seen, lizard-like and menacing. “Here be dragons,” it read.

  “And that was before the mutations of the Great White,” mused Pavo.

  Soon after, I came across a section containing books on machines. They meant nothing to me, but Pavo went through them carefully, rejecting this, keeping that.

  He waved away the books of half-fish people, saying the creatures must have been of a race that had become extinct before humans came. However fascinating, we did not have room for such things, he said.

  There were hundreds of books on very trivial subjects—books that told how to dress your hair or make a garment, books on how to set flowers in a jar, and even a book showing how to fold paper into the shapes of animals. It struck me that the wondrous Oldtimers had possessed a silly, trivial side.

  There were books on every conceivable subject. Books on machines that carried men and women over land, over sea, and even up to the stars. The more I read, the more I understood that the old world really had passed away forever. So much had changed; so much knowledge lost that could never be regained. The teknoguilders’ fascination with the past suddenly struck me anew as pointless. The future was what really mattered. And perhaps the past was better lost, if it had led the Beforetimers to the Great White.

  “It is such a waste,” Pavo lamented, wrapping books in waxed cloth to be carried by Jik to the foot of the stairs. “Now that we have broken the seal, the books will decay quickly. You must tell Garth to send another expedition soon, before they are lost to us.” I felt a chill at Pavo’s calm acceptance that he would not be there to do the telling.

  I was about to turn into another aisle when my gaze fell upon a particular title.

  Powers of the Mind.

  I stared at the book as if it had eyes and might stare back. Breathing fast, I took it down. I let it fall open where it wanted, then struggled to read the tiny script.

  Every mind possesses innate abilities beyond the five known senses. For most people, these abilities remain hidden and untapped. Sometimes, they are used accidentally or imperfectly and called hunches, insight, or inspired guesswork.

  Even those who have demonstrated these mental abilities, or extrasensory perceptions, are barely touching the edge of their true potential. It would take some immense catalyst to break through the mind’s barriers and allow men and women to use and develop that hidden portion of their minds …

  I felt hot and faint, for what could it mean but that the Oldtimers had speculated about Talents? I trembled at the revolutionary idea that the powers we had always imagined to be caused by the Great White might have existed before the holocaust—that they were not mutations but some natural development of the mind.

  I flicked a few more pages and read.

  For time eternal, some men and women have exhibited flashes of future knowledge and been called fey. But who is to say they are not simply the forerunners of some evolutionary movement, destined to be scapegoats and ridiculed, tormented and even killed for their strangeness, until the rest of the human race catches up.…

  My eyes flew down the page. Flicking back and forth feverishly, I found the book mentioned many of the abilities I knew to be real and even some I had not encountered.

  My head ached with the tremendous feeling of having made a discovery that might well change our future. If the Council saw such a book, they would have to admit Misfits were not mutations. But the Council called such books evil and burned them.

  And the discovery might only make things worse for us; if our kind was the future and not some freakish sideline, what were ordinary people but a dying breed?

  I shivered and read on more soberly.

  The Reichler Clinic has conducted a progressive and serious examination of mental powers and has produced infallible proofs that telepathy and precognitive powers are the future for mankind. Reichler’s experiments have taken mind powers out of the realms of fantasy and set them firmly in the probable future.

  I shivered again, knowing in my deepest heart that the truths contained in the book would not make us more accepted.

  “Elspeth?” Jik asked. I started, instinctively closing the book. “Are you all right?” he asked curiously.

  I nodded. “What is it?”

  “It’s Reuvan. I was taking books to the stairs, and I heard him call out,” Jik said.

  I bit my lip, slipping the book into my pocket and cursing the unyielding tainted earth that would not let me reach Avra mentally. Then I told myself to be glad the taint was not lethally strong, as in the Blacklands. I left Pavo to his books and returned to the stairs, climbing up to poke my head aboveground. It was nearly dawn, and pink light showed faintly in the east. I sent a query to Avra.

  “He has gone,” the mare sent perplexedly. “I could not find your mind. The funaga ran away.”

  “Why did he leave?” I asked.

  “I saw nothing. There was nothing,” she sent.

  Bewildered, I lifted my torch and climbed out, wondering what could have frightened Reuvan badly enough that he would desert us.

  I opened my mouth to call down the steps, but the words died in my throat.

  Fear had seized me.

  My heart pounded and the night was suddenly ice-cold as I watched the air before me shimmer and smoke in a way that could not be natural. The smoke coalesced into a spectral face so grotesque and malevolent that only some Herder hell could have spawned it. Almost reptilian, it watched me from the end of the alley, a shadowed creature of
roiling smoke and razor-sharp teeth.

  Terror flooded my mind; the lantern slid from my nerveless fingers. I screamed then, barely registering the footsteps coming up the metal steps behind me. I heard Kella cry out before I saw her, falling at my feet in a dead faint. That shook me enough to break my trance. I dashed the books from Pavo’s arms and half dragged him and Jik out of the doorway. They stared at the specter in astonished wonder.

  “Ghosts …” Pavo moaned.

  I grasped his shoulders and shook him to make him help me lift Kella, all the while keeping an eye on the creature. It did not advance but opened its mouth menacingly. Then there was a savage growling, but not from the monster—it came from the far side of the mound of rubble and was followed by a high-pitched scream.

  Then, just as abruptly as it had appeared, the smoky demon vanished.

  “What just happened?” Pavo asked.

  Jik looked at me, his face transformed. “That growling. It was Darga!”

  I thought fear had deranged him, but there was barking nearby, and this time I recognized it. I sent out a probe and immediately encountered Darga.

  “There you are,” he sent imperturbably. “Come to me.”

  Startled, I told the others to wait inside and picked my way over the rubble, tracing his probe to what remained of a building fronting the alley. It was little more than four walls, and in one corner a growling Darga held a thin, ragged figure at bay.

  I was beside him before I realized it was a girl cowed against the wall, her skin as black as if she had rolled in the mud. To my bewilderment, she hissed and bared her teeth at the sight of me.

  All at once, fear assaulted me.

  Darga growled again, and the fear vanished.

  I stared at the girl in wonder. “She’s doing it!”

  “I learned from a dog that you had left the city. I followed your scent,” Darga sent. “Then I saw the child-funaga’s mind making you see things. I frightened her enough to break her grip on your mind. She does not know how to speak to my mind, so she cannot make me afraid.”

  The urchin snarled at me, pressing herself deeper into the corner.

  “She is like a wild wolf pup,” Darga sent.

  I looked at the girl. “Well,” I said aloud in a gentle voice, “if you are wild, then I will have to tame you.” I backed away, telling Darga to follow. The girl suspiciously watched us withdraw, then ran forward and slithered through a hole in the wall, swift as a snake.

  I reached out but could find no trace of her mind.

  There was a joyous reunion between Jik and Darga. The others were astonished and relieved that the demon we had seen was no more than a vision. Pavo suggested returning to the library, but I decided we had better find Reuvan, Brydda, and Idris.

  “It’s been a long night. And we have plenty of time to go through the books. We’ll have to stay until I can tame our wild girl.”

  We found Reuvan unconscious, having run into a jutting piece of stone in the darkness, then returned to Brydda. He was fascinated to hear the truth about his ghosts and, though still wary, agreed to cross into the city. But he was skeptical about my intention to tame the girl.

  I shook my head wearily. “I can’t give up. I have to win her trust.”

  “Why?” Brydda asked. “What does it matter?”

  I looked at him. “Don’t you understand? She is the one I came all this way to find. She’s one of us. And I have a feeling she needs us as much as we need her.”

  19

  WE CALLED HER Dragon, after the picture I had seen in the library.

  We had set up a comfortable camp inside the roofless shell of a building with a clear view of Aborium and the surrounding plains. Each night, I set food out, hoping to make her understand that I meant no harm. But though the food had been gone each morning, we did not catch sight of her. Sometimes I sensed her watching us but could not reach her. After a few initial attempts to instill her particular brand of fear into one or another of us, and being fended off by me, she had given up trying to frighten us away.

  The third night fell, and I was silent and preoccupied with thoughts of the ragged urchin girl. Kella was trying to force Pavo to set his notes aside and eat. Finally, losing her temper, she shouted at him.

  “If you don’t eat, you’ll be dead before you have the chance to get your precious books out of their hole in the ground!”

  She broke off, looking horrified at herself. But Pavo burst out laughing. “Kella, what would I do without you? All right; you win.”

  We all laughed at the martyred expression he gave the flushed healer.

  “No luck with the girl?” Pavo asked me over nightmeal. “Have you given thought to what sort of powers she has?” Pavo said.

  I frowned. “Empathy and coercing, though I have never encountered that combination.”

  Kella gave me a quick look. “It’s more than coercing. Domick can’t make things appear in the air.”

  I shook my head. “The creature she conjured looks so like the ones on the map. I think she took the image from my unconscious and somehow projected it into all our minds.”

  Brydda yawned. “Whatever she does, it’s kept the soldierguards from looking for us here. And I saw no patrols out on the plains today. I think they have moved the search to Half Moon Bay or Morganna. I doubt they will bother with Murmroth or Port Oran, given the distances involved. As soon as you’ve finished with the books, we can leave.”

  Pavo nodded absently. “I feel as if I could never be finished, but I’ll have as much as we can safely carry by tomorrow.”

  No one looked at me, but I knew they were thinking of Dragon.

  Time was running out, yet I seemed no closer to reaching the girl than when I had begun. I went out with a pot of stew and sat down to wait, determined to make some sort of contact. Hours passed, and I was beginning to drift off to sleep when I heard a faint sound.

  Snapping wide awake, I sensed her trying to drive me off. Frustrated and baffled, she paced outside the light like a hungry, wild cat.

  “Hello?” I called softly. The wind hissed in scorn, but there was no answer. I took up the pot of stew and held it out.

  Still no answer, but instinct told me she was watching. I sighed, feeling suddenly defeated.

  Then I heard a movement, and she was there, the half-moon shedding a wan light on her grubby face. I was careful not to make any sudden movements as she crept forward, never taking her eyes from me. She reached out abruptly and snatched the pot from my hands, turned, and ran into the night.

  I sighed heavily and went back to the campfire. Reuvan sought to comfort me, saying he thought sheer curiosity would make Dragon follow us when we left. That and our food offerings. I was not so certain, but we had no more time to spare.

  That night, we left the city after concealing the entrance to the library under rubble. If Dragon did follow, the city would have lost its guardian, and we did not want the books and all their secrets to fall into the hands of the Herder Faction.

  There was no sign of Dragon as we left, but I sensed her eyes watching us from some dark corner of her lonely city.

  I sent out a broadspan beckoning call, but there was no response.

  Brydda had said that we ought to reach the sparse, distorted trees of the fringes before the moon rose, if we did not stop, for once again we were not able to move at more than a plodding walk. I asked what he would do if we could safely cross the Suggredoon.

  “To begin with, I will ride to Rangorn to see my parents. Then I will return to Sutrium and join the group of rebels working against the Council there. I have already been in contact with their leader,” Brydda said.

  Pavo, Jik, Kella, and I traveled in the cart with the books, and the others rode. Brydda had become adept at communicating with the horses through gestures and spent more time conversing with them than with his human companions. Pavo looked pale and ill, the energy of the last days having deserted him as soon as we left the city. He lay back against his precious bo
oks and slept.

  Huge flies plagued us by day, and the unseasonable heat made me long for the cool of the mountains. I consoled myself by thinking the weather was good for my feet, which had begun to heal again.

  I felt weary when we stopped at dusk the second day. The others talked and sparred while setting up the camp and nightmeal, but I could not help thinking of Dragon and wondering if she would go on as she had before our departure. I had given up hope of her following us and wondered if Maryon’s prediction meant that all aims of the expedition had to be achieved to avoid whatever disaster she foresaw. If so, then everything we had done was for nothing, because I had failed to bring the Talent back to Obernewtyn.

  Remembering how Dragon had cowered back against the wall, I was filled with self-reproach for my failure to reach her. I ought to have tried harder. Under all the dirt and savagery, she was little more than a child. Depressed, I went to bathe in a stream after summoning Darga to assure me that it had not flowed from Blacklands. The air had a misty mauve tone, and in the west, streaks of dusky sunset ran across the horizon.

  Darga’s mind broke abruptly into my thoughts. “She follows.”

  My heart leapt, understanding instantly whom he meant. “Where?”

  “Behind the trees,” he sent.

  I forced myself to walk naturally to the stream. Darga sniffed the water and pronounced it clean. Stretching himself out on the bank, he pretended to sleep. I stripped off my clothes and slid into the icy water with a gasp of delight. Rubbing sand against my grubby skin, I reveled in the coolness, but only half of me was enjoying the bath. The other half was searching for the slightest evidence of Dragon’s presence. I was forced to concede that without Darga, I would never have known she was there.

  I took up a handful of sand and rubbed it against my scalp until the tangled mass of my hair felt clean, then I ducked under to wash it out. Floating beneath the surface and holding my breath, I opened my eyes and looked up.

  To my astonishment, Dragon was leaning over the stream, staring with openmouthed terror into the water. Gasping and spluttering, I bobbed to the surface. She sprang back, and gently I fended off the waves of fright she was generating. I reached for her mind but again was unable to penetrate her shield.