Emily Rodda - Sister Of The South

He heard the Sister’s whining song rise, rise, and then—stop.

The silence was dizzying.

Slowly, Lief opened his eyes. Where the Sister of the South had been, there was just a tiny heap of white ash, already scattering in the breeze.

‘So that is that,’ growled the dragon, with great satisfaction. ‘It is over.’

The silence was abruptly broken by noise from above. Lief looked up. The masked people lining the edge of the pit were on their feet, cheering, shouting and stamping.

Towering among them was Barda, his arms raised in triumph, Filli squeaking on his shoulder. Beside Barda was the small blue figure of Manus, jumping up and down as if his feet were springs. Gla-Thon was there, too, bow and arrows still clutched in her hand.

And on Barda’s other side was the tall straight figure of Lindal of Broome. Lief stared, overjoyed. Lindal had survived! One of her arms was strapped in a rough sling. She was cheering with all the rest. But her eyes were fixed on the dragon, and in her good hand she held a spear.

As Lief and Jasmine staggered upright, Steven approached them, grinning shakily.

It is over.

Lief knew that this was a moment for relief and celebration. The people above him were delirious with joy. Yet he felt nothing.

‘This seems like a dream,’ Jasmine murmured, echoing his thoughts. ‘At the end, it all happened so fast. It does not seem real.’

‘It is real enough. And it was a near thing, too,’ Steven said.

‘You and your brother did well, man of the Plains,’ the dragon said, eyeing him with interest. ‘But do not be too proud. By the time your battle ended, the enemy had lost much of its power.’

‘Indeed?’ Steven said politely. ‘Then my brother and I were fortunate.’

Lief was barely listening. He was looking at the drying black scraps that were all that remained of the two-faced beast.

‘The beast did not transform,’ he said slowly.

‘Perhaps it was too badly damaged,’ Jasmine said. ‘Or it may not have had a human form after all.’

‘Perhaps,’ Lief murmured. ‘But the guardian of the north conjured up a phantom to hunt us on the way to Shadowgate. What if the guardian of the south had the same power, but even greater? What if the black slime was—sent?’

‘But surely the guardian would have to go into some sort of trance to accomplish such a feat!’ Jasmine exclaimed. ‘And the palace is full of people. The danger of discovery would have been—’

‘There would have been little danger of discovery if the dread work was done in the dead of night,’ Lief broke in. ‘And that was when it was done—until yesterday, just before dawn, and today, when—’

And at that moment a memory flashed into his mind. A memory. A face. A name.

He shook his head. Surely it was not true. He could not bear for it to be true. Yet as he thought frantically, searching for another answer, many things that had puzzled him fell horribly into place.

‘You had better return to your people, king of Deltora,’ the dragon said sharply. ‘At present they seem happy, but I do not trust them. At any moment they may take it into their heads to attack me again, and I am not yet ready to fight, or to fly.’

Lief did not waste words in argument. The dragon had good reason to distrust the people of Del. And he, too, felt that his place was above.

There was someone there he had to meet.

15 - The Hidden Enemy

By the time Lief, Jasmine and Steven had climbed out of the pit, word had spread in the crowd that the plague was, after all, no threat. All but a few cautious souls had once again discarded their masks. Guards and townspeople alike were rejoicing.

Steven mumbled something about finding Zerry, and slipped away. Lief guessed that the thought of facing the curious glances of the crowd made him uneasy.

Few, in fact, had seen Steven and Nevets fighting the beast—the dreadful power of the Sister of the South had seen to that. Only a few more had seen the dragon destroy the Sister of the South.

But all of them knew that a great battle had been fought and won, and that something wondrous had occurred. They all felt a lightness of spirit, a flooding joy.

Many kept tapping their ears, or shaking their heads as if to clear their ears of water. A sound they had always known had gone. For the first time in hundreds of years, the dull, despairing song of the Sister of the South no longer hummed through the air and earth of Del.

Why can I not rejoice? Lief thought for the hundredth time. He gripped Jasmine’s hand more tightly. That small, rough hand had become a lifeline for him, a link to what was real, what was true.

He saw that Lindal, Manus and Gla-Thon had disappeared, and that Barda was now speaking to the guard called Dunn. As Lief watched, Dunn saluted, and left Barda at a run, shouting to his men.

The next moment, the guards had begun urging people away from the pit, and back towards the palace gates.

‘That will please the dragon,’ Lief said. His own voice sounded strange to him—as if it was coming from far away.

Barda was standing alone now—a tall, proud figure silhouetted against the sky. Jasmine hailed him, and he beckoned.

The moment they reached him, Filli leaped from his shoulder into Jasmine’s arms, chittering frenzied welcome. Lief took one look at Barda’s dulled, vacant eyes, started forward and embraced his old friend.

For a moment Barda returned the embrace. Then, embarrassed as always by shows of emotion, he pushed Lief away.

‘Pah! You smell of dragon, Lief,’ he said, grinning. ‘Keep your distance!’

Then the grin faded from his face. He blinked. A furrow deepened between his brows. He stretched out his arm.

‘Take my hand,’ he said abruptly.

Wondering, Lief clasped the outstretched hand. Barda blinked again. And then Lief saw that the blankness of his eyes had lessened.

‘It is the Belt,’ Barda said, his voice trembling slightly. ‘One of the gems is aiding my sight. I can feel it!’

And Lief remembered.

The opal … has the power to give glimpses of the future, and to aid those with weak sight …

He did not hesitate. He moved his free hand to the opal. He gripped it tightly.

Instantly his mind was filled with pictures. Grey, barren land. The skeletons of trees. A grey river, sluggish water thick as mud, with huge grey fish lying dead on the wrinkled surface. Monstrous creatures shrieking in the sky. And he felt …

Horrified, he tore his hand from the Belt. Panting, he looked up at Barda—at Barda’s dark, clear eyes regarding him curiously.

‘Was it—enough?’ Lief stammered.

‘Enough for now,’ Barda said. He waited. But Lief’s throat was dry. He could not speak.

‘What did you see, Lief?’ Jasmine asked quietly.

Lief swallowed. ‘I think I was in the Shadowlands,’ he said. ‘I saw the seven Ak-Baba. I felt … a terrible, helpless rage. Burning—’ His throat closed, and he shuddered.

‘That is what the Enemy will feel when he learns what has happened here today,’ said a quiet voice beside him. ‘Perhaps it is his future you have seen.’

Very startled, Lief spun around and saw Zeean, wrapped in a shawl and leaning on Lindal’s good arm. So absorbed had he been in his vision that he had not heard the two women approaching.

‘Zeean! How—why—are you here?’ he stuttered, as Lindal moved joyfully to Barda’s side, exclaiming over his cure.

Zeean held out her hand to show a huge emerald ring that Lief recognised as one of the royal jewels.

‘This finished what the emerald in the Belt began,’ she said calmly. ‘I was able to walk from the palace, with Lindal’s help. Sharn is still very weak, so Gers carried her. Doom and Gla-Thon brought Paff, and Josef’s body, I think.’