The Seeker - Isobelle Carmody [117]
Pressing one ear against the door, I heard faint voices. Dry-mouthed, I made my decision. The door swung open soundlessly.
I gaped at the complete unexpectedness of what lay inside. The building was composed of a single, long, almost bare room filled with babies and very young children. On the far side of the room, a thin dark-haired girl wiped the face of a bawling tot.
In the middle of the room, playing with a group of happy children, was Gilaine.
She looked up idly, and her face registered my own shock.
I could not think of a single thing to say. The room was obviously a kind of communal nursery, but I was convinced it was also the source of the block. The machine had to be concealed somewhere in the room.
The dark-haired girl came over. “Yes?” she said pleasantly.
Gilaine touched her arm and made a few intricate hand motions. “Gilaine says you’re a friend. Come in.”
Gilaine made another agitated hand movement and the girl nodded. “I’ll do it. You talk to your friend,” she said kindly.
“What is this place?” I asked Gilaine when we were alone.
She frowned and pointed to the children. One of the toddlers waddled after her and lurched at my knees. Reaching out to catch him, my hand brushed against Gilaine’s.
The baby gurgled in delight, oblivious to our stunned looks. The moment our hands touched, I had immediate access to her mind—and she to mine! Gilaine was a Talent. She had the same unusual combination of empath and farseeking abilities as Jik.
She pulled away almost immediately. I leaned forward slowly, not wanting to alarm her, and touched her forearm. Again contact was established. It seemed the block did not work if I was actually touching the person I wanted to communicate with.
“Gilaine?” I sent gently. She recoiled. I stood waiting, and she reached out, touching my shoulder with a tentative finger.
“Elspeth?” her mind responded. It was a weak signal despite the strength I had found in her mind.
I nodded. Gilaine sat on a chair as if her legs would not hold her and pulled the toddler onto her lap. I reached forward, pretending to look at the baby, and touched her. “We must not make ourselves obvious,” I sent, at the same time wondering if Gilaine was the trap.
“You … are like us, but different,” Gilaine sent timidly.
“Us? There are other Misfits here?” I asked, astounded.
She nodded almost imperceptibly. I sensed that she did not want to talk about them.
“Does your father know?” I asked.
She shook her head vehemently. “Must not know.” The baby began to struggle to be put down. Gilaine jiggled her knees up and down, and he gurgled contentedly. “Father-druid thinks Misfits only feebleminds or dreamers. He does not know about us/you. He thinks Misfit/mutant evil,” she stressed.
“And you? Do you think this is evil?” I asked.
She shook her head but without much conviction.
“It’s dangerous for you and your friends here. Why do you stay?” I asked.
She shrugged, but I was startled to see a familiar face in her mind. It was the boy I had met in the Councilcourt in Sutrium years earlier, when I had been waiting to be sentenced to Obernewtyn. In her vision, he was older, but it was unmistakeably the same person. He had spoken to me of running away to take refuge in the mountains. He had even mentioned Henry Druid, saying the rumor of his death was a lie. Clearly, he must serve the Druid. I fumbled in my memory for the name he had told me. “Daffyd,” I murmured aloud triumphantly.
Gilaine almost dropped the baby in fright. The startled child hitched in a breath and began to scream. When it was quieted, Gilaine touched my hand. “How do you know that name? Did you read my behindthoughts?” she asked suspiciously.
I shook my head without bothering to explain that I could have if I’d chosen to. People always thought I wanted to eavesdrop on their private thoughts, whereas the notion actually embarrassed me. “I saw his face in your