The Seeker - Isobelle Carmody [57]
He was as brisk as ever, but strangely his manner no longer offended me. I rose, feeling empty of all emotion. Rushton sent me to a distant field alone to check the foot of a horse he said might be going lame and bade me walk him very slowly back to the stables.
As I walked, I realized that I believed Rushton when he had said he was not an informant. Any number of Misfits knew of my friendships and might have spoken of them to Madam Vega; Rushton had only warned me that it was dangerous making friends too openly. It was my resentment of him that had made me jump to the conclusion that he had spoken to Madam Vega.
Remembering that he was Enoch’s friend, I considered asking him to inquire about Maruman. But even if my fear and hatred of Rushton were misplaced, I could not believe there was true friendship between us or any kind of easiness that would allow me to ask for his help.
Perhaps it was only because Maruman was so much on my mind, and I was still raw at the news of Jes’s death, but the next morning I awoke with Maruman’s dear grizzled face in my mind, his golden eyes clearly reflecting the jagged mountain range that lay between us. I told myself it was only the wisp of a dream, but what if I was wrong? What if Maruman was gazing at the mountains and longing for me as I was for him? What if he decided to try to find me?
19
THE FINAL WEEKS of harvest passed swiftly as everyone worked hard and long to complete preparations for the wintertime. The pain I had felt at learning of Jes’s death had faded all too quickly; it was as if a memory had died rather than a person, because I had already accepted that I would never see him again. I had been nervous that Rosamunde would say something that would reach the ears of Madam Vega, but after that one conversation, she seemed to retreat into the silent blankness that I supposed was the reason she was sent to Obernewtyn.
I had finally, and with some trepidation, told Matthew and Dameon what Rosamunde had told me about Jes. Like me, they felt the soldierguard’s death could not have happened as she had described. I could exert force enough to open a lock, and I had at last confessed my ability to coerce. But I could not possibly exert a force powerful enough to stop a person’s heart or breathing. Most likely, having witnessed Jes’s death and suffered torture, Rosamunde’s crumbling mind had invented the vision of Jes destroying his tormentor.
No matter what had transpired that night, I feared it would eventually be discovered that Jes had a sister who had been convicted as a Misfit and sent to Obernewtyn. I was determined to escape before that happened.
But in the meantime, the doctor or Alexi seemed to have lost interest in Cameo. She no longer disappeared, she slept more peacefully, and she grew stronger physically. A sly relationship grew between her and Matthew, and he and Dameon spoke less urgently of escape.
One midmeal, Dameon said, “It has occurred to me that if we organize our escape for the end of wintertime, just before the pass thaws, we would not have to survive the whole wintertime. I don’t know how we would steal or carry enough food to sustain us for the entire season. And this way, we would only have to contend with Ariel and his wolves. With Elspeth’s ability to speak with beasts and her coercion, I think we could manage to evade them.”
Back and forth we talked, proposing plans, refining them, arguing, changing our minds and then changing them back again. But always Dameon was the one to make the point that ended a discussion. I had been right about him being the one to lead us.
One morning, there was a rumor at firstmeal that someone had broken into Madam Vega’s chamber. I was immediately convinced that they had found the letters I had shoved under the steel cabinet in the doctor’s chamber. There was no way they could trace the matter to me, but it meant I must wait a time before going back for a map. I chafed at yet another delay, but we were able to prepare for the escape in other ways. We were