The Seeker - Isobelle Carmody [134]
“My mind grows stronger,” Darga sent.
I was about to answer this when a blinding realization struck me. In my excitement, I shouted, “What if the Talent is not human?”
“What?” Kella asked, looking at me as if I had gone mad.
“I meant, what if the Talent that registered on the Zebkrahn isn’t human? What if it’s a dog or an equine?” I said.
“Does it matter?” Avra inquired coolly.
I was taken aback. Did it matter? If we were to accept animals as equals and allies, this must lead eventually to animal rescues. Sobered, I shook my head.
“I’m an idiot. Of course it doesn’t matter,” I sent.
“Gahltha hoped it would be a beast, to break the funaga prejudice,” Avra sent, mollified.
“Prejudice?” I said.
“The worst prejudice is that which goes unrecognized,” Darga explained. “You think you treat us as equals, but in your deepest heart, you regard the funaga as superior. In part, this is because you yourself are powerful. But that does not make the race of the funaga better than that of dog or equine.” Darga’s gentle criticism cut like a knife. I was not certain I believed the funaga admirable as a race, but there was some truth in his accusation. And how could one fight such an insidious prejudice?
“You are less prejudiced than most of your race,” Darga sent. “But Gahltha hoped we would find a beast mind to rival yours. He believes that is the only way to alter the funaga’s deepest attitudes, even at Obernewtyn. Perhaps he was right.”
“It might be a girlfriend for Darga,” Jik sent with a shy grin. The others had not been part of our silent beastspeaking.
“We’ll know soon enough,” said Pavo.
“How many hours do you calculate from here to the hidden library?” I asked.
Pavo considered. “Half a day, if the distances shown on the map are consistent. I hope we will not be delayed too long in Aborium.”
Coming to the side gate of the city just after sunrise, I was startled and unnerved to see how many soldierguards were posted. There was no mistaking the yellow cloaks they wore as a badge of office. But though they looked searchingly at our faces, they neither spoke nor sought our papers. Just as unexpected as the guards were the huge crowd of people and carts clamoring to be let in the gate. Many of those waiting were laughing and singing, and one girl did a cheeky jig to the calls and encouragement of her friends. I was puzzled by the crowd’s high spirits but reassured, too. Surely a city that had so many eager visitors could not be such a bad place.
The sun was well risen by the time our cart was allowed to enter, and we made directly for the seafront and the Inn of the Cuttlefish. Grufyyd had given us directions, but it was harder than we had expected to follow them, for we were swept along by the crowd past the turns we had wanted to take. The city was of a tortuous design, so there was no working our way back. Streets ran off in all directions, bisecting, curving, and turning back on themselves.
“If we can find the water, we can work our way along,” Pavo suggested. We were loath to mark ourselves strangers by asking the way, but morning passed into afternoon and still we were lost. I did not even remember how to get back to the gate. “No wonder people come in and never come out,” I said wearily. “They probably can’t find their way.”
“We’ll have to ask,” Kella said.
I asked a woman, then a boy and another woman. All claimed not to know the inn. That struck me oddly. Aborium was large, but Grufydd had said the inn was big and well known. Still trying to decide what to do, we continued to be carried along within the milling crowd. Jik warned us that Avra was on the verge of panicking at the way people were pressing all around her.
“Let’s get out of this,” I said, and directed Avra to force her way to the edge of the crowd and take the next turn away from the throng.
“I didn’t know there were so many people in the Land,” Kella said in a shaken voice, when we had reached a quiet side lane.
I looked at Jik, who wore a puzzled air. “There were not so many when