Emily Rodda - Sister Of The South

‘It is someone we all know and trust,’ Barda muttered. ‘It is someone from whom a guard would take food or drink without suspicion, despite his orders.’

Jasmine’s eyes had darkened until they were almost black.

‘Why do you say the guardian is quick-thinking?’ she asked slowly.

Lief shrugged. ‘To stop Josef from telling what he knew, Mother was poisoned, and false fears of a plague were created. This led to the idea of raising hatred of Tora. Then the guardian remembered that my heir was Toran, and this in turn led to an even better idea.’

He flicked the yellow paper in Jasmine’s hand.

‘There is such a thing as being too clever,’ Barda said. ‘These notices will be our hidden enemy’s undoing. Sorcery may have been used to copy them in large numbers, but the yellow paper is real enough. I will order a search, and if we find a stock of it hidden in someone’s chamber, we will know …’

Lief nodded. He took the notice from Jasmine, feeling as if his arm and hand were weighed down by stones.

‘I must show this to Zeean,’ he said. ‘I cannot risk her seeing it by accident, as we did. And I must tell her that there is no bird fit to carry a message to Tora.’

‘It is fortunate that there is not,’ Barda said, with a grim smile. ‘It would be folly for Marilen to show her face in Del now—even if her father would allow her to come.’

‘Marilen can surely do as she likes!’ Jasmine exclaimed. ‘She is a married woman now. And her husband, the father of her child, is here.’

‘Perhaps he is,’ Barda said, with a shrug. ‘But Marilen is a Toran, Jasmine. Her father has great influence over her. And if the Torans felt coldness towards Del before, it is nothing to what they will feel if they suspect that people believe this latest notice.’

He grimaced. ‘The strange thing is,’ he said, ‘what the notice says makes good sense. Tora has always envied Del its favoured place in the land. Marilen is heir to the Belt. She does have powerful protectors. She is with child—’

‘But—but you almost sound as if you believe that Tora is plotting against us, Barda!’ Jasmine cried passionately.

Barda’s face grew stern. ‘I am saying only that we should keep our minds open,’ he said. ‘And from this moment, we should trust no-one but ourselves.’

Hurrying up the stairs soon afterwards, Lief heard the sound of stumbling feet and laboured breaths from above. He looked up and saw a hand grasping the curving railing of the staircase, high above his head.

His heart in his mouth, he pounded upward till at last he came upon Lindal, huddled on the stairs.

‘Thank the heavens!’ she gasped. ‘I could go no further. Lief—I fear you have made a terrible mistake. Zeean is deathly ill. And Sharn … is sinking. But it was not poison. They ate nothing, drank nothing …’

Lief ran. He ran with no thought in his mind at all.

The door to his mother’s bed chamber was wide open. As he rushed into the room he saw at a glance the red marks again bright on Sharn’s face. He saw Zeean lying back in her chair, sweat gleaming on her brow, her cheeks, chin, neck and arms covered with the same scarlet swellings.

Panic-stricken, he lifted Zeean and carried her to his mother’s bed. He put her down beside Sharn, then tore the Belt of Deltora from his waist and stretched the Belt’s gleaming length over the two of them.

The amethyst gleamed pale pinkish-mauve, tormenting him.

The amethyst calms and soothes, Lief thought wildly. And it loses colour near poisoned food or drink. What mistake could I have made?

‘The amethyst calms and soothes …’ he repeated aloud.

And, abruptly, the rest of the words came to him, just as he had first seen them in The Belt of Deltora.

The amethyst calms and soothes. It changes colour in the presence of illness, loses colour near poisoned food or drink …

The words Lief had forgotten flamed in his mind.

It changes colour in the presence of illness …

His heart gave a sickening thud. Wildly he looked again at the amethyst. But surely it had paled, not merely changed colour! Surely …

They ate nothing, drank nothing …

His mind was roaring, struggling in the grip of a nightmare more terrifying than any he had ever faced.

He had been wrong. The birds had been poisoned, certainly, but the people had not. All along, the amethyst had been reacting to illness, not to poison. The Toran Plague was real.

In horror he thought of Kree, flying to Dread Mountain. There was no other bird to send after him. And the emeralds the gnomes sent would be useless. It was not the emerald, the antidote to poison, that had revived Lindal and aided Sharn. It had been the strength of the diamond beside it that had helped them—for a time.

Every plan he had made was pointless. Everything he had said at the meeting had been based on a terrible mistake.

The meeting …

Lief buried his face in his hands.

Zeean had removed her mask because she had believed in him. Jasmine, Barda, Doom, Manus, Steven, Gers and Gla-Thon had all gathered in this room unprotected—because they had believed in him.

And what of the guards even now carrying Zon and Delta away? What of all their comrades, forced by Barda to remove their masks?

I have killed them all, Lief thought despairingly. And I have killed myself. The diamond would have protected me from the pestilence, no doubt, if I had taken ordinary care. But …

But he had taken no care. He had exposed himself recklessly to infection. The plague was surely within him, and sooner or later it would show itself.

The plague works quickly once it strikes.

Not so quickly for him, perhaps. The diamond’s power would keep him alive for a time. He would live to see the deaths of his mother, of Zeean, of Jasmine, Barda, Doom … all those he loved and had betrayed.

But he would never now face the Sister of the South. He would not die fighting, but sweating in the grip of pestilence. Then Marilen would have to claim the Belt.

Shakily, Lief pulled out the yellow notice and read the final lines.

As he read, as he faced what already he knew, cold dread pierced his heart.

This was the disaster Ava had predicted. This was the doom he had felt looming ahead from the moment he entered the palace.

He had thought he could decide whether to take the final step or not. But the final step had been taken long ago, without his knowing it. It had been taken the moment he pulled the red mask from his face and announced that the Toran Plague was a lie.

He had delivered Deltora into the Shadow Lord’s hands. He alone.

‘Lief …’

Lief’s head jerked up. Zeean’s eyes were open. She was looking at him.

‘We were wrong, it seems,’ she said softly, trying to smile.

Lief’s heart felt as if it was being squeezed by a giant hand.

‘Zeean, I am sorry,’ he choked. ‘I truly believed—’

‘Lief, listen to me,’ Zeean whispered. ‘I am old. I have seen much, and I know. One mistake cannot ruin a life, or a kingdom. It is what is done after that mistake, that decides. Remember the lessons of history. Despair is the enemy. Do not let it defeat you …’

Her voice trailed away. Her eyes closed.

Lief stared down at her. The red marks were fading from her face. Either the diamond was strengthening her a little, or she was dying.