The Seeker - Isobelle Carmody [65]
I had not gone far when, very quietly, a voice spoke behind me.
“If you make one sound, I will kill you.” To my utter terror, I felt the tip of something sharp press into my neck.
PART III
THE MASTER OF OBERNEWTYN
22
“NOD IF YOU will not cry out,” the voice said.
With a queer sense of desolation, I recognized whom that whispered voice belonged to. I moved my mouth to speak, but the hand over my mouth tightened. Limply, I nodded.
He unlocked a door beside us and propelled me into a small but lavish bedchamber. Candles were lit and a fire warmed the air.
I stared about me with a kind of despair, for this was not the room of any hired servant. Like the rest of Obernewtyn, the room was hewn of gray stone, but unlike those in the chambers of Misfits, the window in this room was wide and would afford a view, too, though now the shutters were pulled across to keep out the cold night air. The floor was covered in a thick, beautiful rug, and the table and chairs and the comfortable couch were enough to make anyone suspicious.
Forgetting my initial fear, I turned angrily to stare at my captor—Rushton.
“I thought you worked for pay,” I said accusingly.
He shrugged, seemingly unashamed of himself. “My position here is … ambiguous,” he said softly. “Keep your voice down,” he added.
Outrage gave way to confusion. If he didn’t want us to be heard, then he must not intend to denounce me. I watched him warily as he crossed to the front of the fire. He poked at the embers with a stick, and gradually I went closer.
He looked up at me, the firelight flickering over his grim face. “You don’t seem frightened. Are you?” he asked.
“No,” I said simply, because it was true. I felt too numb. He gestured for me to sit on the couch, and I shook my head. Uttering a growl, he moved swiftly, plonking me unceremoniously onto the seat.
“Then you are a fool,” he said. I looked up at him resentfully. “Only a fool would not be afraid in your situation. I could have been one of the guardians.…”
My anger and bewilderment melted at his grave tone.
He sat down opposite me. “It is time for us to talk. Lud knows we should have done so before now.” He shook his head as if at his own folly.
“Why were you sneaking around in the dark?” he asked with some of his old haughtiness. I bridled at his tone and gave him a sullen look that made him frown.
“I ought to march you off to Madam Vega right now,” he said, but his tone was one of weary contempt, empty of threat. “You have caused me a great deal of trouble, and it might be the best thing to let them have you. I knew there would be trouble the first time I saw you,” Rushton added. “And Louis warned me.…”
I stared. “Louis warned you about me?”
He actually smiled at that. “It is rather late in the day to become cautious, Elspeth. He said you were curious as a cat, and so you are. Perhaps I should tell you that I know Alexi is searching for a Misfit with particular abilities to help him find something hidden. I believe you have the abilities he seeks, and I suspect he finally knows that.”
I gaped, my heart thundering. How could he know so much? “I … I don’t know what you mean,” I faltered.
He lifted his dark brows skeptically. “I am also aware that the Council has sent men to bring you to Sutrium. And I can guess that your friends have been unable to help you except to advise you to run, as far and as fast as you can. It is wise advice, for it appears the Council is very interested in Misfits like you—there are far more of you than most realize. The Council interrogates them, then burns them, or they are given to the Herders who carry them off to Herder Isle.”
I looked at him dumbly, aware that I was shivering from fear.