The Seeker - Isobelle Carmody [189]
The news of Pavo’s death had saddened me, though I had expected it, and the Teknoguild, still mourning his loss, had mounted an expedition to the city under Tor in his memory. I felt the loss of Jik even more keenly.
Maryon had told me she’d foreseen his death soon after we had departed, though not Darga’s. “It is true the predictions focused on the boy, but I think the dog would not have gone without him,” she explained. “Futuretelling is inexact at the best of times, and I regret that. But there is no sense blaming ourselves for Jik’s death. Who knows what would have happened to him if he had not left the cloister or if he had not gone on your expedition and Obernewtyn had fallen. Dwell not on this death, but on his last happy days with us.”
Brydda whirled Kella past me in a dance, rousing me from my memories. I smiled, already regretting that Brydda had to leave. He had a heartening manner and a cheery way of making everything seem possible.
As with all coming and going at Obernewtyn, they would travel across the now barren White Valley and down the Olden way. Few dogs were as sensitive to poisonous taints as Darga, but with care, it would be possible to find a suitable path, retracing our own journey. It was no longer safe to come openly along the main way, as our mountain valley was supposed to be deserted and barren. Domick had gleefully informed us that this was the report made by the soldierguards. It had been accepted by the Council, and Ariel had lost some credibility over the matter. With this and the disappearance of the Druid and his people, Ariel was no longer in a position to threaten us.
From the corner of my eye, I watched Rushton. No emotion showed on his features. It struck me suddenly that he had spent a lifetime hiding his thoughts and feelings.
The memory of his words as he lay dazed after being drugged by the soldierguards came back to me with a queer thrill. No one had heard those words but me, and it was clear from Rushton’s behavior afterward that he did not remember having said them. Yet, in the light of them, many things seemed suddenly clear: Kella’s cryptic scolding about my inability to see the truth of things, for one, and Rushton’s reluctance to let me join the expedition to the lowlands.
I turned to find Rushton standing beside me and flushed at my thoughts, glad he had no ability to deep-probe.
“You are always alone, even when there are people about you,” he observed.
I shrugged. “Matthew tells me I’m too gloomy. But I find it hard to forget all the bad things. All this is wonderful … but sometimes it seems like a pleasant dream that can’t last. So many have died. And Jik was so young. It’s a high price we pay for our place in the world.”
“If we did not fight, there would still be deaths, because Misfits will continue to be born. We want to stop the killing, and that means fighting.”
“War to end war? It doesn’t sound very sensible,” I said. We stared at the dancers for a moment in silence; then I felt his eyes on me.
“I could scarcely believe it when I heard you were alive,” he said remotely. I did not know what to say. When I looked up, embarrassed by the long silence between us, his expression was stern and unsmiling.
“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.