The Seeker - Isobelle Carmody [46]
It was a slim hope, but I clung to it. I had one moment in which to wonder where the real Master of Obernewtyn was, and to think he was no less mysterious than the doctor, when Willie emerged from a door and gestured for me to go through. There was a sulkiness in his face that made me think he had wanted to stay while I was being interviewed and had been sent away. Willie was one of those informants who served his masters out of spite and slyness rather than out of fear or for favor.
Taking a deep breath outside the door, I pushed it open resolutely and reminded myself to stay calm no matter what happened. My first impression on entering was of heat. A quick look around revealed the source—a fire burning brightly in an open fireplace despite the warmth of the weather. Spare wood was piled high on one side of the fire, and two comfortable-looking armchairs were drawn up facing the hearth. The stone floor was covered by a brightly colored woven rug, and there were a number of attractive tapestries hanging on the walls. It was a pleasant, lavish room compared to the rest of Obernewtyn.
Against the back wall of the room was a desk, and behind this a wide window with a magnificent view of the cold arching sky and the jagged mountains. I stared, mesmerized, until Madam Vega stepped abruptly into my line of sight, the same stylishly attractive figure that I remembered. But her expression was no longer the coy, girlish one she had worn during her visit at Kinraide. Her blue eyes were cold and calculating, and she waved me impatiently to the chair nearest the fire. I sat down obediently, though a strange smell seemed to emanate from the fireplace, and I felt slightly sickened by it.
“You should have told me that you had only begun to show Misfit tendencies after being exposed to tainted water,” Madame Vega said briskly. “I thought …” She bit off the words and drew a long breath.
“Still,” she said after a moment, her voice now calm. “There may be some use in you. I am told that you have formed a circle of friends.” I opened my mouth to deny it, but she held up her hand to silence me. “Do not trouble to lie. It bores me, and you do not want to bore me.” There was a clear threat in her words, and I swallowed and said nothing.
“Well then,” she said sweetly. She sat back and watched me through narrowed eyes. “Tell me about your friends,” she said.
I thought of Rushton and damned him. It seemed he was an informer after all. “I only eat with them at meals,” I said. “I won’t do it again.”
Irritation flicked over her features. “There is nothing wrong in your forming friendships. Indeed, it will suit me if you widen your group of friends. You will be my eyes and ears among the Misfits.”
I stared. “I couldn’t spy,” I said stiffly. I would pretend stupidity but not that.
“I do not want you to report plots and petty misdeeds or even subversive gossip,” she said so kindly that I was filled with suspicion. “All I want you to do is watch for any Misfits who seem … different. I am concerned that some of those brought here do not reveal the full extent of their … mutancy. That is most unfortunate, because it means we cannot help them.” She performed this beautifully, and I even saw a hint of tears in her eyes. But I could only think of what was being done to Cameo. And what had been done to Selmar.
“What do you mean by different?” I asked, hoping I sounded dull-witted rather than frightened.
“I want to know of anyone with unusual or undisclosed deviations of the mind,” she said. I could do no more than nod. “Good. I am sure you will be of much help to me,” she purred. She smoothed her skirt and said very casually, “Cameo tells me you are her friend.”
I felt the snakelike coil of fear in my belly. “She is a defective true dreamer,” I said, but I wondered how much Cameo had said when she was hypnotized. We had not spoken to her about our undisclosed abilities, but neither had we been careful not to refer to them in front of