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had heard stories about Obernewtyn. Parents and orphanage guardians used it as a sort of horror tale to make naughty children behave. But, in truth, very little was known about it.
    In its early days, the Council had been approached by Lukas Seraphim, who had built a huge holding in the wilds of the northern mountains, on land ringed by savage peaks and only just free of the Blacklands. He had offered this holding as a solution to the problem of where to send the worst-afflicted Misfits and those who were too troublesome for use on the Councilfarms.
    In the end, an agreement had been made to send some Misfits to Obernewtyn, where they would be put to work. A few generations later, the agreement still stood. Some said it was just like another Councilfarm and that the master there only sought labor for an area too remote to interest normal laborers. Others said the Seraphim family was itself afflicted in some way and pitied the creatures, while still others claimed they practiced the dark arts and needed human subjects.
    Those Misfits taken there were never seen again, so none of these stories had ever been authenticated properly. But such was the legend of Obernewtyn, grown over the years because of its very mystery, and it was feared by all orphans,not the least because in more modern times, it sent out its keepers to investigate the homes, seeking undisclosed Misfits among us.
    It was said these keepers were extraordinarily skillful at spotting aberrations, and that the resultant Council trial was a foregone conclusion.
    If what I feared was true, Maruman’s garbled predictions and my own premonitions could only add up to a visit by a keeper from Obernewtyn. In the past, I had been fortunate enough never to have been present at a home under such review, but it was an occasion I had dreaded, particularly as my abilities made me far more deviant than any Misfit I had ever heard of.
    When official word of an Obernewtyn keeper’s imminent arrival was circulated, my worst fears were realized. All the omens implied disaster.
    Jes was worried enough to catch me alone in the garden and advise me to be careful. His warning itself did not surprise me, but he looked scared, and that made him more approachable. Impulsively, I told him of my premonition, but that only made him angry. “Don’t start that business now,” he said.
    “I’m afraid,” I said in a small voice.
    His eyes softened, and to my surprise, he took one of my hands and squeezed it reassuringly. “She can’t possibly know what you are unless she is like you.” I stared because that was the first time in many years he had mentioned my secret without bitterness.
    He went on. “Look, why do you think everyone finds out she’s coming before she gets here? They do it deliberately, to scare people. If people are nervous, they’re more likely to give themselves away.”
    Wanting badly to please him, I nodded in agreement. He looked surprised and rather pleased; we had done nothing but argue for a long time.
    We smiled at each other hesitantly.
    The keeper arrived three days later, and by then, the atmosphere in the home was electric. Even the guardians were jumpy, and the Herders’ lectures had grown longer and more dogmatic. A keeper could not have wished for more.
    Like me, many of the orphans had never seen an Obernewtyn keeper. I was amazed to see how beautiful she was, and not at all threatening. It was impossible to look at her petite, fashionably attired form and credit the Gothic horror stories that abounded in connection with Obernewtyn.
    She was introduced to us at a special assembly as Madam Vega, head keeper of Obernewtyn.
    The orphans who met her spoke of her beauty and sweetness and gentle manner. Nothing was as we had imagined, and nothing happened in those few days to cast any suspicion on me. I was even able to convince myself that both Maruman and I must have been mistaken. Even so, I greeted the morning of her departure with a kind of relief.
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