The Farseekers Read Online Free PDF Page B

meddling with the past. Perhaps that and my visit to the Teknoguild caves had stirred up too many old ghosts, and the vision in Maruman's subconscious was the result.
    Perhaps not.
    It was hard to separate reality from illusion in the deeper levels of a mind but, if I had imagined it, why had Maruman been released from his torment the moment I had left his mind? Yet if it had not been an illusion, what had spoken through Maruman to me?
    And what of its words? The voice had warned me about the weapon machines, reminding me of my vow to destroy them before they could be used. It had warned me to be ready to act when the time was right. But how would I know?
    I shivered. I wanted to ask someone's advice, but suspected everyone, even Dameon, would tell me I had imagined the whole thing.
    Yet they did not know that the weapon machines had survived. Ironically Alexi's tortures had enabled me to see the death machines, but I had kept the secret, believing the knowledge too dangerous even for Rushton.
    Both Maruman and poor Sharna had believed me to be a mysterious being in beast mythology named the Seeker, who they claimed was destined to fight a dark battle to save what remained of the world. It was too fantastic to believe.
    Or was it? I was certain the voice in Maruman's mind had not been human - perhaps it had been some kind of animal. Was it possible those of the beast world knew something the humans, or funaga, did not? I wondered if I should speak to Maryon or one of the other future-tellers, to ask for a future reading.
    Fortunately, a busy Guildmerge meeting to sort out details of the coming expedition drove all these thoughts to the back of my mind. After the meeting I went to see Maruman. He had not wakened, but the sleep was natural. The best kind of medicine, Roland had said reassuringly.
    Coming across the lawns from the Healer Hall, I found myself thinking of the Guildmerge and Rushton's plans and feeling more certain than ever that things were about to change at Obernewtyn. Glancing up, I half expected to see dark clouds gathering overhead, but the sky was a clear and cloudless blue.
    Inside, I noticed Dameon making his way down the hall towards the kitchens with Matthew.
    I watched them approach, wondering what kept Dameon from running into things. His empath ability would not help him see, yet he was never clumsy.
    'Elspeth?' he said unexpectedly in his soft beautifully spoken voice. His father had been a member of the Council before his death, and Dameon had been a product of that privileged class before a cousin had arranged to have him judged Misfit, and Claim the deceased estate. It was one of the beauties of the Misfit charge that it could not be absolutely proven or disproven.
    'Are ye sure ye canna see?' Matthew asked the empath, walking behind because of the narrowness of the hall at that point.
    Dameon smiled sweetly. 'I possess neither sight nor the wondrous magic of your precious Oldtimers,' he teased. 'I knew Elspeth was there because of your reaction to her.'
    'You empaths!' Matthew exploded. 'I thought I had th' shield in place then. Ye'd think emotions at least ought to be private.'
    'You need to perfect that shield,' Dameon admonished. 'Do you think I want to be privy to your emotional turmoils, entertaining though they are?'
    Matthew blushed to the roots of his hair. 'One canna always be screenin' every thought,' he muttered.
    Dameon laughed aloud. I bit my lip to conceal my own amusement and Dameon smiled accurately in my direction. There was a touch of sadness in his face that had not always been there. I looked up to see Matthew give me a speculative look. Annoyed that he seemed to know something I did not, I was tempted to probe him.
    'Come, or we will arrive for midmeal at firstmeal,' Dameon said so pointedly, I wondered if he had somehow deepprobed me.
    Rushton called Dameon his conscience and suddenly I understood why.
    Dameon held out his arm and I took it with a wry smile. 'I hear young Una