The Seeker - Isobelle Carmody [32]
I left as fast as I could to escape those curious, watchful eyes.
The packages lay on a piece of cloth on the ground next to a large bucket of milk covered with a piece of gauze. I scooped up a mug of milk but avoided the squashy packages I recognized from my days in the kitchen as bread and dripping. Propping myself against a rain barrel in the sun, I again berated myself for my foolishness in working so quickly. I could have been with Sharna and the horses all day, but instead Rushton was sure to give me some horrible job now that he thought I had wasted his time.
I turned my thoughts to Maruman and wondered if he had been in the mountains. I doubted it. He could not have crossed the tainted ground on foot, and I did not think Enoch’s carriage had returned since my arrival, because I had noticed no new faces at meals.
I was so deep in thought that I did not see Matthew and Dameon approach, and I jumped as their shadows fell across my lap. They sat beside me, and I felt as though everything had changed in a matter of hours. Only yesterday this casual intrusion would have annoyed me, but I found I did not resent the company of this odd pair.
Nevertheless, I felt bound to point out to them that we made ourselves vulnerable by showing friendship openly. “I’m not saying I don’t want your company, but maybe it’s not a good idea to be so obvious,” I ventured, looking around doubtfully at Misfits sitting nearby.
Matthew shrugged. “Elspeth, yer thinkin’ like an orphan. We are Misfits now. What more could they do?”
Burn us, I thought, but did not say it, for that seemed unlikely now. And he was right. I had been thinking like an orphan. The two boys unwrapped their lunches. Dameon rewrapped his with a grimace, but Matthew ate his with a bored expression.
“Have ye come across old Larkin yet?” Matthew asked presently. I shrugged, saying I hadn’t seen anyone but Rushton. “Nivver mind,” Matthew laughed. “Yer bound to see him soon. Ye’ll know when ye do. He’s not th’ sort ye could easily forget.”
“Who is he, a guardian?” I asked curiously.
“There are only three permanent guardians up here,” Dameon explained. “The others come and go. They don’t last long, though.” I thought of Guardian Myrna’s treatment of the hapless Hester and did not wonder.
“Strictly speakin’, Larkin is a Misfit, but he’s much older than the rest of us,” Matthew said. “Do you notice how there are no older Misfits? They send them to th’ Councilfarms. But Larkin has been here forever, and probably the Councilfarms dinna want someone as old as him. But he’s a queer fey old codger. An’ rude as they come—I’m not even sure I like him exactly. But if ye can get him talkin’, he has some interesting ideas.”
“I don’t suppose half of it is true,” Dameon said with a grin.
But Matthew refused to be drawn. “I daresay he does make a lot of it up. But he knows a lot, too. An’ some of th’ things he says about th’ Beforetime make a lot more sense than the rubbish the Herders put about. There’s no harm in hearin’ ideas … unless ye happen to be blind in more ways than one,” he added with an oblique glance at Dameon. I thought it a rather tactless jibe, but Dameon only laughed.
“So where is he, then?” I asked crossly, somehow envious of their casual friendship.
“Well, he’s nowt a man to blow th’ whistle an’ bang th’ drum. In fact, I sometimes think he’d like to be invisible. But he works on th’ farms, so ye’ll meet him soon enough, doubtless,” Matthew said.
I thought of something else. “Tell me, the overseer—is he a Misfit?”
“Nobody really seems to know,” Matthew said. “I asked Larkin once, an’ he told me to mind my business.”
Dameon nodded. “He might work for pay, like the temporary guardians. But I don’t know. Whenever I’m near him, I sense a ferocious purpose and drive, though to what I do not know.”
“What about Ariel, then?” I asked.
“I hate him,” Matthew said with cold venom. I