The Seeker - Isobelle Carmody [44]
I stared at him. I had not thought beyond escape, but he was right. We had to plan everything, otherwise we would find ourselves condemned to whitestick cleansing.
“What about dressing up as gypsies?” Dameon said.
“Wonderful!” I cried, for gypsies did not have Normalcy Certificates, and they moved constantly about the Land.
Suddenly Matthew stiffened, looking over my shoulder. “Look out. It is our surly friend, the overseer.” I turned my head slightly to see that he was talking with another Misfit.
“He takes an interest in us,” Dameon said softly, obviously empathising the overseer as he came closer. “He does not like what he sees.”
“Maybe he’s only interested in one of us,” Matthew muttered with a sly glance in my direction.
Catching the gist of his thoughts, I scowled. “Don’t be an idiot,” I snapped. Rushton made no pretense of his dislike of me.
“He’s coming over,” Matthew said, and we all munched our food casually.
“You! Elspeth. I have a job for you,” Rushton called. Nodding to the others, I got to my feet and went to the waiting overseer. I could not make out his expression, because the sun was behind him. He led me away.
“You are foolish to make your friendships so blatant,” he said angrily. I stared at him in astonishment. “But I did not call you to say that. The girl Selmar sleeps in your chamber. When did you last see her?”
“She wanders at night,” I said, suspicious at his knowledge of household matters.
“Did she sleep there the night before she disappeared?” he queried.
“I don’t know. I don’t know when she disappeared, I mean,” I said, completely dumbfounded. “Why do you want to know?”
“You have no right to ask me questions,” he said haughtily.
I saw red. “And what right have you to ask them of me?”
“I belong here,” he said icily. I did not dare speak; he was so angry. “Fool of a girl,” he snarled. “Go back to your cows.”
Bewildered by the encounter, I went to the barn. Louis was waiting, and he seemed to have forgotten his anger with me. Recklessly, I asked him again about Selmar.
To my surprise, he did not lose his temper, but only sighed. “She were a lovely girl,” he said sadly. I frowned, because he was talking as if she were dead.
“She is free,” I said gently, now certain that they had once been friends.
“No,” he responded, anguish in his face. “That devil-spawned brat, Ariel, has caught her, and no doubt he has taken her to the doctor, though what more he can do to the poor bairn, I dinna ken.”
“That is what happened to Selmar, isn’t it?” I asked slowly. “The doctor’s treatments destroyed her mind.”
“He never meant it to be so here, th’ first master didn’t,” Louis said. I did not understand what he meant, but instinct kept me silent as he went on. “He were a good man, an’ he built this place because he thought th’ mountain air were a healin’ thing. Two sons an’ a wife he had buried already from the rotting sickness, an’ another child burned. He wanted to make this place a sanctuary, and he took another wife to help him in his work. But she were no helpmate, an’ when he died, their son, Michael, were too weak to fight against the yellow-eyed vixen. It was she that started buyin’ Misfits from the Council.”
I wanted to ask about the doctor, but Louis set me to churning, so instead I thought about the things he had told me. The first Master of Obernewtyn—Lukas Seraphim—had moved here out of grief and a desire to start anew. He had married again—someone Louis called a “yellow-eyed vixen,” who must be the mother of Michael Seraphim, who had grown up to become the second Master of Obernewtyn. Though from what Louis said, his mother had been the true master. But who was master now?
That evening, on my way back from the farms, one thought overshadowed all these others. Louis had confirmed my fear that the doctor’s treatments could leave Cameo a ruin. It seemed to me that the only way to save her would be to make our escape, and soon.