A GREAT RAGE seared me.
Throwing off caution, I reached into the bottom of my mind for the darkest of my Misfit Talents to stun the Herder.
But before I could summon it, an arrow hurtled through the air to bed itself in the center of his sunken chest. He sucked in an agonized breath and clawed at the wooden stave, trying vainly to withdraw it. Then his eyes clouded and he collapsed, blood bubbling obscenely from his lips.
I disengaged my probe with a scream, almost dragged to my own doom by his swift spiral into death. Panting, I stared down at him in astonishment and, for a moment, silence reigned in the village clearing.
“The Herders will kill us all for this,” a woman wailed, shattering the stillness.
ALSO BY
ISOBELLE CARMODY
THE OBERNEWTYN CHRONICLES
Obernewtyn
The Farseekers
Ashling
The Keeping Place
Wavesong
The Stone Key
The Sending
The Red Queen
THE GATEWAY TRILOGY
Night Gate
Winter Door
LITTLE FUR
The Legend Begins
A Fox Called Sorrow
A Mystery of Wolves
Riddle of Green
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Ashling copyright © 1995 by Isobelle Carmody
The Keeping Place copyright © 1999 by Isobelle Carmody
Cover art copyright © 2007 by Penguin Group Australia
Map copyright © 2008 by Penguin Group Australia
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Bluefire, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York. The works in this collection were originally published separately by Penguin Books Australia Ltd, Camberwell, in 1995 and 1999. Published here by arrangement with Penguin Group
Australia, a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd.
Bluefire and the B colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
Visit us on the Web! randomhouse.com/teens/strangelands
Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at randomhouse.com/teachers
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
eISBN: 978-0-307-97583-6
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
v3.1
CONTENTS
Cover
Other Books by This Author
Title Page
Copyright
Character List
Map
Ashling
Dedication
Part I - The Days of Rain
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Part II - The Twentyfamilies
Chapter 16
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Part III - The Sadorian Battlegames
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Epilogue
The Keeping Place
Dedication
Part I - The Winding Path
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Part II - The Road to War
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Part III - The Dreamtrails
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
CHARACTER LIST
Alad: Beastspeaking guildmaster
Angina: Empath guilden and enhancer; twin brother of Miky Aras: young Farseeker guilder
Ariel: sadistic enemy of Obernewtyn, previously allied with the Herder Faction
Atthis: Elder of the Agyllians, or Guanette birds; blind futureteller
Avra: leader of the Beastguild; mountain mare; bondmate to Gahltha
Bodera: ailing rebel leader in Sutrium; father of Dardelan
Brocade: rebel leader in Sawlney
Bruna: Sadorian; daughter of Jakoby
Brydda Llewellyn (aka the Black Dog): rebel leader allied with Bodera and Dardelan
Cameo: true-dreaming Misfit, killed by Ariel and his allies
Cassell: rebel leader in Halfmoon Bay
Ceirwan: Farseeker guilden
Daffyd: former Druid armsman; farseeker; unguilded ally of Obernewtyn
Dameon: blind Empath guildmaster
Dardelan: rebel leader; son of Bodera
Dell: Futuretell ward
Domick: former Coercer ward and bondmate of Kella; living in Sutrium
Dragon: powerful Empath guilder with coercive Talent; projects illusions; in a coma
Druid (Henry Druid): renegade Herder Faction priest and enemy of the Council; leader of a secret community that was destroyed in a firestorm
Elspeth Gordie (aka Innle, the Seeker): Farseeker guildmistress; powerful farseeker, beastspeaker, and coercer, with limited futuretelling and psychokinetic Talent
Enoch: a coachman; ally of Obernewtyn
Faraf: pony ridden by Elspeth in the Sadorian Battlegames
Fian: Teknoguild ward
Freya: beast empath; enhancer with a powerful effect on others’ Talents
Gahltha: Beast guilden; bondmate to Avra; a formidable black horse sworn to protect Elspeth
Garth: Teknoguildmaster
Gevan: Coercer guildmaster
Gilaine: daughter of the Druid; beloved of Daffyd
Grufyyd: bondmate to Katlyn; father of Brydda
Gwynedd: rebel Norselander; second to Tardis
Hannay: Coercer guilder
Idris: young rebel formerly of Aborium; trusted companion to Brydda
Iriny: halfbreed gypsy; half sister of Swallow
Jacob Obernewtyn: Beforetimer; wealthy patron of Hannah Seraphim
Jakoby: Sadorian tribal leader; mother of Bruna
Javo: Obernewtyn’s head cook
Jes: Elspeth’s older brother; Talented Misfit killed by soldierguards
Jik: former Herder novice and Empath guilder with farseeking Talent; died in a firestorm
Kasanda: deceased spiritual leader of the Sadorians; left signs for the Seeker to help in her quest
Katlyn: herb lorist living at Obernewtyn; bondmate to Grufyyd; mother of Brydda
Kella: Healer guilden with slight empath Talent; former bondmate to Domick
Lina: young, troublemaking beastspeaker
Louis Larkin: unTalented highlander; inhabitant of Obernewtyn; honorary Beastspeaking guilder
Lukas Seraphim: first Master of Obernewtyn, which he built on Beforetime ruins; Rushton’s grandfather; deceased
Madellin: ailing rebel leader in Port Oran
Maire: gypsy healer; grandmother of Swallow and Iriny
Malik: rebel leader in Guanette
Marisa Seraphim: second wife of Lukas Seraphim; researcher who knew location of Beforetime weaponmachines; deceased
Maruman (aka Yelloweyes): one-eyed cat prone to fits of futuretelling; Elspeth’s oldest friend
Maryon: Futuretell guildmistress
Matthew: Farseeker ward
Merret: Coercer guilder with beastspeaking Talent
Miky: Empath guilden; twin sister of Angina; gifted musician
Miryum: Coercer guilden
Pavo: former Teknoguild ward; died of rotting sickness
Powyrs: rebel sea captain
Radek: rebel leader in Morganna
Reuvan: rebel seaman from Aborium; Brydda’s right-hand man
Roland: Healer guildmaster
Rosamunde: one-time lover of Jes; unTalented inhabitant of Obernewtyn
Rushton: Master of Obernewtyn; latent Talent
Salamander: secretive, ruthless leader of the slave trade
Sallah: rebel mare; companion to Brydda
Selmar: Talented Misfit and one-time ally of Rushton; killed by Ariel
Swallow: Twentyfamilies gypsy and heir to D’rektaship
Tardis: rebel leader in Murmroth
Yavok: rebel leader in Aborium
Zarak: Farseeker guilder; previously a Beastspeaking guilder
Zidon: horse ridden by Malik in the Sadorian Battlegames
for Helen Stannard-Williams,
for the most enduring love of all:
friendship
and
for Scott
Do you now fly the spirit trails
you sought in life?
1
AT FIRST SIGHT, the gypsy woman appeared to be embracing the stake. Her languid pose and mocking smile made it seem impossible that she was about to be burned. Blood dripped steadily out of slits that ran from elbow to wrist, yet she showed neither pain nor fear.
The gray-gowned Herder before her lifted his palms to the sky as he chanted the purification prayer. He was old, bald, and toothless, but his eyes glowed like live coals as he made the warding-off signs.
“Beware, demon,” he hissed. “You have found an easy vessel in this foul gypsy’s body. Yet I will drive you out.”
Shockingly, the woman laughed aloud.
“You know I am not possessed, Herder. Say the truth and be done with it. Tell them that you burn me because I tried to heal a baby when your own worthless treatments had done more ill than good.”
The villagers, standing in a cluster about the stake, rustled like leaves in a windblown tree, but no one spoke in the woman’s defense, and none met her eyes.
“You used herb lore,” the Herder said. “It was such dabbling in forbidden arts that brought Lud’s wrath upon the Beforetimers for their conceit. The Herder Faction heals with humility, trusting to Lud’s guidance instead of sinful pride. The plagues were Lud’s warning that the Landfolk tread the same dangerous and prideful path when they close their ears to the Faction, for Herders are the voices of Lud.” He blinked and seemed to rein in his religious fervor. “The woman who allowed you to defile her child will also be burned for heresy.”
A woman screamed and fainted, but no one moved to her aid.
“You are a fool,” the gypsy’s voice rang out. “You will not be allowed to burn her when the Council can have her sweating her life out in one of their stinking farms.”
“I am a Herder. Lud and the Faction rule me, not the Council,” the priest snapped. There was a sullen mutter from the crowd, but the Herder glared them to silence. “She invoked the black arts. Council lore grants me the right to burn her and any who treat with her.”
“What black arts?” the gypsy demanded contemptuously.
The Herder turned back to her. “You told the woman her child would die, and one day later it did. You cursed it and thereby revealed the demon within.”
“I treated the babe but saw quickly by its symptoms that it was too late to save it,” the woman said. “It could not tolerate the potions you fed it. I told the parents it would die so that they might say their farewells and not waste the child’s final hours.”
“Do not waste your own final moments with lies,” the Herder jeered, pushing a gloating smile into the woman’s face.
Her hand snaked out suddenly as if to grab him, and the priest wrenched back with a strangled cry. She gave a throaty laugh of triumph. “What are you afraid of, old goat? Do you think my gypsy skin might be catching?”
“Beg, demon! Proclaim your guilt, and the cleansing will be swift,” he screamed, almost hysterical with fury.
She laughed again, a humorless bark. “Cease your ranting, old man. Kill me so that I don’t have to see your ugly face anymore.”
Even from the back of the crowd, I could see the Herder mottle with outrage. Then his lips folded into a vindictive smile. “Evil must not be permitted to think itself triumphant,” he said silkily, and then turned to speak a word to his acolyte, eyes glittering with malice.
The boy proffered a selection of long-handled metal tools.
“Th’ bastard’s goin’ to brand her before he burns her,” Matthew hissed into my ear, his highland accent thickened with anger.
“Am I blind?” I snapped. The amount of blood pooled about the woman’s feet told me she would likely not live long enough to feel the flames of purification, let alone to be rescued. Despite her boldness, her face had grown as white as smoke.
“We mun do somethin’,” Matthew whispered urgently. He gestured to our gypsy disguise, as if it made some point of its own.
“Be silent and let me think.” I sent the thought directly to his mind.
The sensible thing to do would be to accept that it was too late to save her and withdraw before anyone noticed us. I looked at the gypsy again. Her chin lifted in defiance as the Herder approached with the brands.
I cursed under my breath and slid down from Zade’s back, mentally asking the horse to stand quietly until I called. I told Matthew to turn the carriage around and go back to the main road, not trusting his instinct for drama.
“What will you do?” he asked eagerly.
“I’ll think of something,” I said shortly. “Wait for me out of sight.”
As soon as he was gone, I pushed my way through the crowd, at the same time extending a delicate mental probe. Fortunately, the Herder was not mind-sensitive, so he was not aware of my intrusion.
“Where is her wagon?” I demanded aloud.
The Herder swung to face me, his eyes narrowing into slits at the sight of my gypsy attire. “By what right do you question a voice of Lud?” he snarled.
“By right of blood,” I said.
It was Council lore that blood kin might speak in defense of their own. In the past, this had not stopped Herders doing what they wished and later making excuses to the Council for excessive zeal. But with the growing rift between Faction and Council, the priests’ power had waned, and they were less wont to openly flout Council lore. In any case, it was only a stalling tactic, since I had no proof of kinship to the gypsy. “Her wagon has been burned, as have all her Luddamned utensils and
potions,” the Herder said grudgingly, but his memory showed him riffling through the wagon and removing various pieces before the thing was flamed. My probe slid sideways into a memory in which he tortured the gypsy’s bondmate to death, and I shuddered inwardly.
“You have proof that you are related?” he demanded.
“All gypsies are brothers and sisters,” I answered, not wanting to be caught openly in a lie.
“Do not taint my ears with the practices of your foul breed,” he hissed. “I asked for proof of kinship—you have shown me none, therefore be silent.”
I saw his mind form a plan to report me to the soldierguards for sedition, thereby ridding himself of me in case I was related by blood. He turned back to the gypsy and snorted in annoyance to find her hanging limply from her bindings.
Alarmed, I reached out a probe, but her body still pulsed with life. She had only fainted.
The Herder cast down the brand and reached for a torch to fire the woodpile at the foot of the stake. A great rage seared me. Throwing off caution, I reached into the bottom of my mind for the darkest of my Misfit Talents.
But before I could stun him, an arrow hurtled through the air to bed itself in the center of the Herder’s chest. He sucked in an agonized breath and clawed at the wooden stave, trying vainly to withdraw it. Then his eyes clouded and he collapsed, blood bubbling obscenely from his lips.
I disengaged my probe with a scream, almost dragged to my own doom by his swift spiral into death. Panting, I stared down at him in astonishment, and for a moment, silence reigned in the village clearing.
“The Herders will kill us all for this,” a woman wailed, shattering the stillness, her eyes searching the trees for the archer.
“Not if we kill these gypsies and throw the bodies in the White Valley. We can say we saw nothing of what happened,” a man began, but before he could continue, another arrow whistled through the air, piercing his neck.
He crumpled to the ground with a rattling gurgle.
That was enough for the rest. It was one thing to watch someone else die, and quite another to risk your own life.
People scattered in all directions, crying out in terror.
I did not know who had loosed the arrows, and there was no time to find out. Situated on the border of the highlands and lowlands, Guanette was visited regularly by off-duty soldierguards seeking amusement. At any minute, several might be drawn by the screams to investigate.