Beyond the city I saw a plain shining white in the moonlight.
I saw Maruman leap up onto a large Beforetime machine sitting on the side of the black road. Parts of it were rotted to black lace but I guessed by its shape and position at the side of the road that it was one of the machines the Beforetimers had used to ride along the ground. Horseless carriages, as Garth named them.
Sitting neatly atop the immobile hulk, the old cat looked utterly at home in the deserted city lit by its many reflected moons, yet his ears pricked and twitched and his eye was dark and there was an alertness to his bearing that told me he was in the midst of stalking something.
But what? I wondered, as the dream slipped away and once again I floated in the vast darkness. I could not find the levels of my own mind. I did not know which way was up or down. A great heavy stupidity seemed to possess me.
I drifted down, deeper than I had ever gone, and yet there was no mindstream. I tried to rise, but a great hand seemed to press me gently but inexorably down into a void of shadows. I grew afraid at the realisation of my powerlessness, but I could do nothing to fight it. I thought of the spirit-force I had for so long feared as a murderous power that had taken up residence in me.
It is part of you, Rushton had told me just before I chained my secrets in the great inner vault that was his Talent. To pretend it is not is as foolish as binding your eyes and pretending to be blind.
Rushton, I thought, with a surge of grief and longing so potent that it disrupted the dreadful downward drift.
Then I was lying on my back beside a greatship driven up onto a sandy shore. The mast was broken and the sails hung in tatters. People stood around me talking.
‘There had better be water here or we’re done for even if the storm did spit us out,’ said one. I recognised the voice of the seaman Reuvan. Above him the sky was the colour of tarnished metal streaked with sickly yellow.
‘Can’t you help him?’ someone asked. ‘He won’t last much longer like this.’
‘He has lasted longer than I thought he would, but we need to gan the heat out of him,’ said someone else. A woman?
‘Dunk him in the waves and ye might as well drown him in this state,’ said a man. ‘His heart won’t take it.’
‘He’s awake,’ said another voice. ‘Surely that’s a good sign.’
‘He is not truly awake, poor lad,’ said another voice I knew; Gwynedd who was high chieftain of the Westland and king of the Norselands.
‘Rushton has survived a lot worse than this bitty storm an’ a wee flux,’ said Brydda Llewellyn stoutly, but when he leaned over me, his face was haggard with weariness and worry.
I am inside Rushton again, I thought, and then my heart leapt for if that were so, then this was no mere dream! He lived.
‘The trouble is he was sick and then the storm came,’ said Gwynedd. ‘One or the other he might have managed.’
‘He nivver says owt but Elspeth,’ said an older man. ‘Who’s that I’d like to ken.’
There was a profound silence.
‘That is the woman he loves,’ said Brydda at last. ‘Elspeth Gordie. Guildmistress of the Farseekers of Obernewtyn Shire, and a stronger woman I never met. If she were here, she would nowt let him slip away. Once before he near died and she held onto him and forbade it and he lived.’
‘Ask me an’ I’ll tell ye he dinna hold to life because she dinna be here,’ said the old man. ‘Ye ken he asked her to bond and she left him, or so his ravings’d have it.’
Another silence, then Brydda growled, ‘A man’s ravings ought not to be spoken of, and the way I heard it, she left only because there was a task she had to do. A matter touching on many lives.’
I have to help him, I thought, fighting the stupor that sapped my will by imagining the black sword. This time, I felt its weight. Gathering myself, I summoned it into me more strongly than I had ever dared to do before. It was as if I had swallowed a hive of dark, furious bees. I rose up from Rushton’s body and felt the steady muscular beat of the wings of my spirit-form as the world of matter faded into vague shapes and silence. I lifted my hands to look at them. They were greenish white, though I had no memory of creating a spirit-form or of transferring my consciousness to it.
The black sword is me, I thought, just as Rushton said.
Sometimes even funaga speak wisely, said Maruman. Maybe that is why Marumanyelloweyes troubled to hold him to life. The cat stood before me in his greatcat spirit-form of gold slashed with black. His long snaky tail lashed and his two eyes flashed, one gold and one diamond bright and white glittered fiercely. Now it is up to Elspethlnnle, he said, and vanished.
I looked down at the dull brown form that was Rushton’s body and saw the red and sickly green streaks in the spirit-form overlaying it. I thought of the golden link that bound us and as if the thought had summoned it, the link showed itself to my eyes, shining bright as sunlight on waves. I put my hand into it and felt the hot red ravenous heat of Rushton’s sickness shot through with a longing for me so great that even as I willed myself into him, he was drawing me to him.
Then I was standing on a silent sea-shore. It was dark and very quiet save for the soft whisper of the waves against my feet. There was no moon and the stars overhead were none I knew, but the sea itself was alive with phosphorescence.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Rushton.
‘My love,’ he said, and took me in his arms.
Oh, the joy and wonder of that embrace. I breathed deep, smelling his warm body, relishing the feel of his hard muscular arms wrapped so tightly around me. Never let me go, I thought, but I said, ‘You are ill.’
He only kissed me. His lips were on my brow, on my cheeks, on my neck, and finally, hungrily, on my mouth. At last, he said, ‘I will die content holding you, for though this be but a dream, it is a sweeter dream than life without you.’
I drew back from him and looked up into his face. ‘This is no dream, my love. I am real. We are linked whether we are together or apart. I am here because of that link. Only if you die will the link be severed. Live, for me, my love. Draw on that which binds us, and live. For if you live, I can endure, I can do what I must do no matter where it leads me. Because I will know you are in the world.’
‘Elspeth, you are fading,’ Rushton said urgently. His face grew grim and desperate. ‘I will not let you go again.’
‘Then hold to life, my ravek,’ I sent, even as I slipped from his grasp into the darkness. Then I was lost in the shadow sea, and once again I felt the inexorable hand pressing me down ever deeper, but I fought it for the sake of the quest I must complete and for the sake of all I loved.
And I rose.
Characters of the Obernewtyn Chronicles
Ahmedri: Sadorian, brother of Straaka
Alad: Beastspeaking guildmaster, highlander
Alden: highlander, coercer
Analivia: daughter of Radost, sister of Moss and Bergold
Angina: Empath guilden and enhancer, twin brother of Miky
Ariel: distorted Talent, abilities unknown
Ari-Noor, Ari-Roth: shipfish
Atthis: Agyllian or Guanette bird or oldOne, Elder of the eldar, survivor of the Great White
Avra: Gahltha’s mate, leader of Beastguild at Obernewtyn
Blyss: empath healer, heartfasted to Merret
Brildane: mountain wolf pack
Brocade: rebel leader in Sawlney
Bruna: Sadorian, daughter of Jakoby, bondmate of High Chieftain Dardelan
Caldeko: halfbreed gypsy bondmate of Iriny, executed by Herders
Cassy Duprey: Beforetimer
Catrin: coercer
Ceirwan: Farseeker guilden
Christa: Futureteller
Cinda: Norseland shadow
Daffyd: highlander, former guardsman of Henry Druid, brother to Jow, beloved of Gilaine
Dameon: blind Empath guildmaster
Dardelan: rebel son o
f Bodera, High Chieftain of the Land east of the Suggredoon
Darga: Herder-bred dog of Jik
Darius: Twentyf amilies gypsy, beasthealer
Declyn: coercer
Dell: Futuretell guilden
Descantra: she-wolf of the Brildane
Doktaruth: Beforetime scientist at Inva complex
Domick: once Coercer guilden, spy and bondmate of Kella
Dragon: empath-coercer, daughter of the Red Queen
Druid, Henry: renegade Herder priest and charismatic leader of secret community, father of Gilaine and Erin
Edric: coercer and farseeker
Elii: rebel leader in Kinraide
Elkar: Herder novice, bondmate of Cinda
Elspeth: Farseeker guildmistress, powerful coercer-farseeker- beastspeaker, known as ElspethInnle and the Seeker by beasts and as Elaria in gypsy disguise
Enoch: coachman loyal to Misfits
Erlinder: Beforetime scientist
Evander: son of Cassandra
Falada: Sadorian horse
Faraf: pony ridden by Elspeth in Sadorian Battlegames
Fedan: teknoguilder
Fell: teknoguilder
Fian: Teknoguild ward, highlander
Freya: empath-enhancer
Gahltha: guardian of Elspeth, known as Daywatcher, Avra’s mate
Garth: Teknoguildmaster
Gavyn: boy with unknown Talents
Gevan: Coercer guildmaster, leader of Magi performers
Gilaine: mute farseeker, daughter of Henry Druid, twin sister to Erin
Gobor One Ear: wolf of the Brildane
Grufyyd: father to Brydda Llewellyn, bondmate of Katlyn
Gutred: Norslander woman, bondmate to Helva, mother to Lark
Hannah: Beforetime paranormal and director of revived Reichler Clinic
Hannay: farseeker
Harwood: powerful coercer
Helvar: Norselander, father of Lark, shipmaster of the Stormdancer
Hilda: coercer from Oldhaven
H’rayka: one-who-brings-destruction, equated with the Destroyer
Iriny: halfbreed gypsy, halfsister to Swallow
Jak: Teknoguilden
Jakoby: Sadorian tribal leader, mother of Bruna
Javo: head cook at Obernewtyn
Jes: brother to Elspeth, killed by soldierguards
Jik: Herder novice rescued by Farseekers, killed in firestorm
Jil: coercer
Kader: healer
Kasanda: mystical leader of Sadorians
Katlyn: herb lorist, mother to Brydda Llewellyn, bondmate of Grufyyd
Kella: mistress of Cloister Healing Centre in Sutrium, former bondmate of Domick
Khuria: beastspeaker, father to Zarak
Lark: Norselander
Larkin, Louis: unTalented friend to Misfits
Leander: farseeker novice
Lei: Beforetime laboratory assistant
Lidgebaby: powerful coercer-empath baby, bonded to Misfit group in Henry Druid’s secret encampment
Lina: beastspeaker
Linnet: powerful coercer-knight
Llewellyn, Brydda: rebel leader formerly of Aborium, now right hand of Dardelan in Sutrium, son of Katlyn and Grufyyd
Lo: Obernewtyn horse
Luthen: brother to the Red Queen
Malik: treacherous rebel leader
Marisa: second wife to Lukas Seraphim, scientist who resurrected Beforetime brain scan machine called Zebkrahn
Maruman: one-eyed cat, friend of Elspeth, known also as Yelloweyes and Moonwatcher
Maryon: Futuretell guildmistress, highlander
Masterton, Petr: Beforetime assistant to director of government complex in Old Scotia
Matthew: farseeker with deep probe abilities, slave in the Red Land
Merret: powerful coercer with beastspeaking Talent, heartfasted to Blyss
Miky: Empath guilden and twin sister to Angina, gifted musician
Miryum: leader of the Coercer-knights
Moss: son of deposed head Councilman Radost
Mouse: son of Sabatien
Nerat: Agyllian healer
Noviny: former Councilman of Saithwold and grandfather to Wenda
Obernewtyn, Jacob: wealthy Beforetime friend and benefactor of Hannah Seraphim
Okan: defective with healing Talent washed ashore on the Land
Olinden: teknoguilder
Oma: Norselander, first shipmate to Helva, shipmaster
Per Vallon: Norseland village leader and kinehelt or king’s hand
Powyrs: captain of The Cutter
Radost: head Councilman of Sutrium, father of Analivia, Moss and Bergold
Rasial: white dog with coercive abilities
Reul: teknoguilder
Reuvan: former seaman, right hand to Brydda Llewellyn
Rheagor: pack leader of the Brildane
Roland: Healer guildmaster
Rolf: chieftain of Halfmoon Bay
Rushton: master of Obernewtyn, halfbrother of Stephen Seraphim, Misfit with latent Talent
Sabatien: ex-Herder priest, father of Mouse, leader of Norseland rebels
Salamander: slave trader and mysterious shipmaster of the Black Ship, ally of Ariel
Sarn: farseeker
Seely: unTalented girl, once nanny to Gavyn, now companion and assistant to Jak
Selmar: Talented Misfit killed by Ariel’s mad dogs
Sendari: horse who travels with the gypsies
Seraphims: Hannah, director of the Beforetime Reichler Clinic; Lukas, first master of Obernewtyn; Michael, son of Lukas and Marisa, father to Rushton and Stephen
Sharna: dog and friend to Elspeth
Sover: coercer with a secondary Talent for empathy
Straaka: Sadorian tribesman under Jakoby, heartfasted to Miryum
Swallow: D’rekta of the Twentyfamilies gypsies half brother to Iriny, grandson of Maire
Tomash: farseeker
Vega, Madam: head guardian at Obernewtyn, killed while trying to torture Rushton
Vinderlin: mare who travels with the gypsies
Wenda: granddaughter of Noviny
Wila: farseeker
Zade: stallion, Obernewtyn horse
Zarak: beastspeaker and farseeker, son of Khuria
Question & Answer with
ISOBELLE CARMODY
What inspired you to write the Obernewtyn series?
Like a lot of children growing up at the same time as me, in the aftermath of the Manhattan Project and the bombs dropped on Nagasaki and Hiroshima, I was afraid that adults were going to destroy the world and I thought it would be by war or some terrible bomb. I felt my helplessness to do anything about it very keenly. I always wondered if human beings would learn anything if it happened and some of them / us survived.
I started the Obernewtyn Chronicles at fourteen, which is a pretty stormy age, partly to think about whether I could believe that the ultimate lesson would enable us to evolve ethically and morally as a race, and partly to think about my own place in the world, because I was a bit of a misfit. The main character is a girl only a little younger than I was when I started to write the first book. She lives after a nuclear holocaust and possesses forbidden abilities such as being able to talk telepathically to animals. Like me, she is a Misfit, and like me she was trying to figure out how to belong and yet be herself. I think that is why I was able to write and rewrite the book for so long without showing anyone before I finally sent it off to a publisher, because it was a place where I could think about things that really mattered to me. My own Room of Requirement.
You’ve been writing since you were a teenager. Has your approach to writing changed over that period?
In some ways, no. I started out writing like I was flinging myself down a steep slope on skis, half terrified and half thrilled to be negotiating unknown terrain, and knowing the run might be too tough for me.
That made
sense when I was fourteen and writing in the midst of a tempestuous relationship with my mother, seven wild siblings, and no one felt writing had much to do with anything. The important things were getting everyone fed and bathed and so on, and keeping the house clean. We played a lot of games where I was basically making up stories, but that felt like a whole other thing. The writing was always this private slightly manic activity where I would work like hell because at any minute I was going to be interrupted. It was like reading a terrifically exciting book when you were being interrupted every other minute. A bit of me was always stitched into the book, so that I could go back to it in a second. Story was like this river that flowed through my mind, to which I always returned, and its glitter and its soft rushing sounds were always audible, visible, there – just under real life.
I was always just a little bit distracted from reality.
When I left home and was on my own, there was university and work, and they were a lot more interesting than housework and family chores, but I missed the wild games, and in the end, writing was still this glittering, mesmerizing thread running under everything. Keeping me distracted when I was not ferociously writing. For a while, I really got into journalism, but in the end it seemed to me that I was getting closer to some sort of cellular truth when I wrote my stories than when I interviewed a politician or even the victims of a bushfire. So I quit.
Then there was this incredible period, which was actually quite short, where I really just wrote. Well, I wrote and went to the beach a lot. What I loved most about the beach was that I was going there when everyone else was suiting up to go to work or to all those things real people did, which I had somehow miraculously evaded. I was too young to feel worried about the future. I lived on what I had got together and I lived very, very simply. I was incredibly happy all the time. I wrote, and I was working on the same story I had been working on at fourteen – the first Obernewtyn book.
Then I finished it and I sent it off to the first publisher on a long list I had made, because I had been told that you had to get rejected hundreds of times before being accepted. But it was accepted by the first publisher I sent it to. I felt so lucky. In fact, I felt so lucky it made me nervous. I thought I would probably have to be in a terrible accident as a way of balancing all that luck!