The Seeker - Isobelle Carmody [22]
“There,” said the guardian suddenly, and I saw a sign swinging between two posts. In dark lettering, it read OBERNEWTYN. KEEP OUT.
The sight of it chilled me more effectively than all the Blacklands in existence. Just beyond was an iron gate set into a high stone wall. The wall extended as far as I could see in both directions. Enoch pulled the horses up and unlocked the gate. He walked the weary team through, then relocked it from the other side. I wondered why they bothered—surely Obernewtyn’s remoteness barred the way more effectively than any locks. I tried to see the house, but thick, ornately clipped trees hid their secret well in the curving drive. Someone had gone to great lengths to keep Obernewtyn from prying eyes.
“Obernewtyn,” whispered the guardian, looking out the other window. Her voice was low, as if the somber building that had come into view quelled her as much as it did me. Even the horses seemed to walk softly.
It was a massive construction and outwardly more like a series of bleak buildings pushed haphazardly together than one single mansion. It was constructed of large, rough-hewn blocks of gray stone streaked with flecks of darker stone. Aside from the stone itself, no effort had been made to make one section harmonize with the rest. In some places, it was two or three stories high, and turrets rose up at its corners, with steep little roofs ending in spires. Each wall was pocked with hundreds of slitlike holes that I realized must serve as windows.
The drive curved around an ugly fountain, from which rose a lamppost. Its flame flickered behind gleaming panels, making shadows dance along the walls of the building. Atop a set of wide stone steps, the entrance seemed to move in the shifting light, making me think of an opening maw.
The carriage had drawn to a stop at the foot of the steps, and Enoch unlocked the door. I climbed out after the guardian. The cold air gusted and made my cloak flap violently enough that I clutched at it, fearing it would be wrenched away from me. The branches of the trees were filled with the blustering wind, and the noise they made seemed a mad whispering that made my skin rise up into gooseflesh.
I shivered and told myself sternly not to let my imagination get the better of me.
Only when we reached the top of the steps did I see that the two broad entrance doors were deeply and intricately carved wood. The beauty of the carvings struck me, particularly because the building itself seemed so utterly utilitarian. I studied them as the guardian rang a bell. Men and all manner of queer beasts were represented, many seeming half man and half beast. Whoever had done the work was a true craftsman, for the expressions on the faces portrayed the essences of the emotions that shaped them. Framing the panels was a wide gilt border decorated with exotic symbols. The symbols seemed to me a sort of scribing, though I could make no sense of them.
At last the doors opened to reveal a tall, thin woman holding a candelabrum. The light shivered and twitched in the wind, giving her gaunt features a curious, almost fluid look. She bent closer, and I wondered if she found me as indistinct in the wavering light. I was too tired to pretend dullness and hoped weariness would do as well.
“You’ll get no sense out of her,” said Guardian Hester scornfully. “I thought Madam Vega did not intend to bring up any more dreamers. This one doesn’t even look strong enough to be a good worker.”
The other woman raised her eyebrows disdainfully. “If Madam chose this girl, she will not have done so without purpose,” she said very distinctly, and peered into my face in much the same way Madam Vega had at Kinraide, but without any of her hypnotic power.
“Elspeth, this is Guardian Myrna,” said Hester.
“You may leave now,” the other woman told her abruptly.
“But … but I thought, since it was so late …” Guardian Hester hesitated and faltered