Seeker by Arwen Elys Dayton Page B

her secrets, yet John bet the old man had hired expensive locksmiths to try to get this safe open so he could see what was hidden within—hoping to find some magic talisman that could restore things to the way they were when Catherine was alive. But his mother had designed the safe along with
Traveler
’s architect, and you would have to take apart the ship itself to force it open.
    John entered a combination and presented his eyes to be scanned. The thick metal door hissed open. There was only one object inside, the last thing he owned from his mother. Lying in the center of the safe’s padded interior was a disruptor.
    John felt a deep revulsion at the sight of the weapon, but he took hold of it anyway and hauled it out. It was as heavy as it looked, its iridescent metal solid almost all the way through, with its harness of thick leather adding to its weight. He carried it to the bed and sat with it on his lap. Touching the disruptor made him nervous and slightly sick to his stomach, but despite this, he forced himself to examine every side of it. Life or death, sanity or insanity—he was holding these things in his hands.
    Do what has to be done
, his mother had told him. Briac had always been against him, Quin wouldn’t help him now, and Gavin was barely sane. It was up to John to fulfill his promise. He would likely have to do unpleasant things, but he would do what had to be done, in the best way he could.
    What would Quin think if she could see him? Quin. He imagined her sitting beside him, pictured himself leaning down to kiss her.
There will be many things that try to pull you from the path. Hatred is one, and love is another
.
    He forced himself to focus. The disruptor had been created to instill terror. If it did its job, he would not need to fire it. And Quin—she had already told him she would be far away.

CHAPTER 10

M AUD
    Around midnight, the moon had still not risen, and she was alone in the near blackness of the forest. She moved with the silent tread she had learned as a little girl. It was the only way she knew to walk anymore. Since she had been stretched out so many times, her body would only carry her along as it perceived time should flow: smoothly, steadily, rhythmically.
    The children on the estate called her the Young Dread. It was not her name, of course. She did have a name, though no one used it anymore. She could remember it if she wanted to.
    She thought of the three apprentices—two were sworn Seekers now—as children, though by some accountings they were older than she. That was a riddle with no clear answer.
    Maud
. It came to her, floating up into consciousness like a piece of treasure rising from the floor of the ocean.
My name is Maud
.
    She’d heard them call her companion the Big Dread, though he was, in fact, the Middle Dread, and her dear master was the Old Dread. Those young Seekers had not yet been taught all they would come to know about the Dreads.
    Across her shoulders she carried a young deer she had brought down with an arrow. It was growing heavy as she walked, but weight meant little. She did what she must, regardless of discomfort.
    To a normal eye, there was not enough light in the forest for her to find her way. For the Young Dread, however, even the faint background glow of the stars was sufficient. Perhaps it was an effect of being stretched out so often, or perhaps it was her old master’s teaching, but her eyes were as sensitive to light as they needed to be. It might be they had learned to take all the time necessary to collect the light around them until they had enough for the work at hand.
    Far away there was a noise. She paused midstep to listen, her foot hovering inches above the ground. She could hear the distant song of the river, night birds hunting among the trees, and insects even, moving through the soil at her feet. But this sound was something different. It had come from south of her, in the wildest part of the estate. As she listened, she heard