The Farseekers by Isobelle Carmody Read Free Book Online Page A

speaking the truth about having said nothing of his encounter with the demon. He believed, at least superficially, that this was because the private agonies of a priest must remain locked in his own mind. Herder teaching said anything outside normal abilities was a mutation, but he had refused to admit his secret fear that he might be a Misfit.
    He was no hardened fanatic for all his reactions. We rescued few older folk since most were unable to accept that their mutant abilities might not be evil. Those we encountered whom we judged a bad risk, we simply blocked, making it impossible for them to use their powers.
    This horrified the Healers, but, in truth, the Misfits were happier to seem normal. Many believed Lud had cured them. The Herder boy's youth was a mark in his favour, since most of our rescues were of children. It was his youth that stopped me simply having Domick expunge the memory and block his mutant powers. Instinct told me he was worth rescuing but, because he was a Herder, I had to be sure he would respond the right way. I had promised Rushton I would do nothing until I was certain he could be trusted.
    'How do you know I am a demon?' I asked, curious to know how much dogma he had swallowed.
    The response was immediate. 'You are a greater demon. The other was a lesser novice. Only demons can talk inside a man's head. My master says many are driven mad by such things, but you will not find me easy to break.'
    I sensed Ceirwan's amusement. 'A puppy,' he sent in ardent relief.
    'If we can bring him in we would have an insight into the Herders' world. It's always possible those men asking questions about Obernewtyn were from the Herder Faction.'
    Ceirwan looked unconvinced. 'He is a novice. Unlikely to know their inner secrets.'
    'He is one of us,' I insisted stubbornly. 'If we leave him, the Herders might end up finding out what he is anyway, sooner or later. Then he might betray us at their behest. He is not fully committed to their way and, deep down, I think he knows it. He's suppressing it because he is frightened.'
    'A rescue would have to be completely foolproof,' Ceirwan warned.
    'Are you still there, Demon?' the boy sent.
    The wistful enquiry in his voice decided me. I remembered my own long mental loneliness, thinking myself a freak, living in fear of disclosure.
    'Do others of your kind speak to demons?' I asked.
    There was a significant hesitation in his mind before he answered. 'Demons test many priests.'
    'I have not encountered any other human who could communicate with me,' I sent, trying to sound like a demon.
    Still probing his lower mind, I sensed him shy away from the half-formed thought that followed my comment. I was reminded of my own childhood in the Orphan Home system. I had not known at once that I was a Misfit, but some instinct of self-protection had kept me silent about my abilities. My brother, Jes, had been even more frightened. His hatred of my mutant abilities had warred with his love for me. He had spent a lifetime suppressing, even from himself, the fact that he, too, was a Misfit. In the end, he had been killed trying to escape from an Orphan Home after I was sent to Obernewtyn. For all his apparent devoutness the Herder boy was afraid, loath to speak of his abilities because of a gut feeling of danger.
    'I want to bring him out,' I told Ceirwan aloud.
    The memory of Jes made me determined to rescue the boy before leaving for the Lowlands. With this in mind, I contacted him every night, working on his buried fears. At last he broke down, confessing his knowledge that he was a Misfit; his belief that his masters had begun to suspect him.
    'Surely such a small mutation would not matter,' I said, at the same time evoking an old nightmare in the boy's mind based on a Burning he had once witnessed.
    I was startled at the strength of his reaction. He screamed.
    The noise brought an older Herder. Fearing the worst, Domick struck. I deflected his blow with an ease that made him glare