Emily Rodda - Shadowgate

Lief moved restlessly, glancing over his shoulder at the activity around the central fire. He longed to go and join the crowd.

Bess glanced up. ‘You young ones run along and watch the entertainments for a time, if you wish,’ she said kindly. ‘Take your cakes with you. Berry and I will be cosy together here.’

Lief and Jasmine stood up with relief, picked up their cakes and left the table. From his perch in the tree, Kree silently watched them go.

‘Bess is being very pleasant to Uncle Berry,’ Jasmine said in a low voice, breaking off part of her cake and cautiously slipping it beneath her jacket for Filli. ‘Do you think she hopes to change his mind about leaving?’

‘Perhaps,’ Lief said absent-mindedly. He quickened his steps. He could not wait to become part of the life around the fire.

Together he and Jasmine plunged into the crowd. Jasmine was soon claimed by the dog-faced acrobats, who were forming their pyramid again. Lief wandered on alone in a happy dream, drinking in the amazing sights and sounds around him.

Jugglers, singers, musicians, magicians… Here a dragon-man breathing fire. There a tall thin man with the glistening head of a snake, tying himself in knots. Beside him, a squirrel-woman dancing with bare feet on a bed of hot coals…

Two girls in furry masks like Jasmine’s walked casually by on stilts.

‘Bess says I will be given the mask of my adulthood very soon,’ Lief heard one of them say to the other. ‘It will be a water bird, as I requested. At last! I have been eighteen for months!’

‘You are lucky, Neelie,’ said the other girl enviously. ‘Imagine! You will not have to live with the orphans any more. I am sick and tired of old frog-face Plug!’

‘Never mind,’ the first girl laughed. ‘You will be eighteen in summer, Lin. Then it will be your turn. Bess is very pleased by how hard we worked in the Field of Masks. She says she has enough purebond roots now to make many new adult masks. Enough for all the orphans as they come of age.’

They strode on, weaving gracefully through the crowd.

So—that is one mystery solved, in any case, Lief thought, fascinated. The roots from the field are not food. They are boiled until they dissolve, and Bess uses the mixture to make the inner skin of the special adulthood masks. It must be an ancient craft. No wonder its secrets are closely guarded.

He smiled after the girls, who were still chattering happily. How good it is to be among my own people, he found himself thinking. How wonderful to be part of this world… to have this feeling of safety and belonging. How wonderful, to be a Masked One…

But you are not really a Masked One, a small, clear voice said in his head. You are not part of this world at all. And you do not want to be! Only a few hours ago you could not wait to get away from it. Remember?

Lief tried to push the voice aside, but it would not leave him. As though it had made a gap in his mind through which a cold breeze blew, he shivered.

Suddenly he noticed Rust, Quill and Plug standing nearby. They were watching him, talking in low voices. When they saw him looking, they quickly turned away.

Lief felt a sudden pang of grief. Then he shook his head impatiently. Why should he care if they rejected him? Why should he long to be accepted as one of them?

Why could he not stop shivering?

The crowd surged around him. Waves of music battered him. A group of masked children playing some chasing game surrounded him, jostled him, laughed shrilly and ran on. The little apprentice magician, Zerry, was among them.

I hope Rust did not see you, Zerry, Lief thought, looking down at his honey-smeared jacket. You would do well to keep away from her—at least until you have washed your hands.

The crowd parted a little, and he caught a glimpse of Jasmine swinging on a high bar with three of the blue-clad acrobats. She seemed as far away from him as if she was on the moon. In the distance, in front of Bess’s wagon, he could see the figures of Barda and Bess still sitting at the table.

Bess was passing the puzzle box back to Barda. By her actions, and Barda’s laughter, Lief realised that she had managed to find and release a second lock, but the box still had not opened. He smiled, watching.

Bess fumbled, and the box fell onto the ground.

Barda bent to pick it up.

And, as quickly as a striking snake, Bess leaned across the table and tipped something into his cup.

9 – Terror

For a split second Lief stared, hardly able to believe his eyes. It had all happened so quickly! He had seen no bottle or jar in Bess’s hand.

But he had clearly seen a stream of white powder fall into the cup. He had seen it!

A wave of horror flooded through him. Frantically he began to fight his way through the crowd towards Bess’s wagon.

Bess is a good actor…

Oh, yes, Bess is a good actor, he thought wildly. Good enough to convince us that she had given in gracefully. Good enough to laugh and joke with Barda while coldly planning his death.

He groaned aloud as he remembered what he had said to Bess.

… my first loyalty must be to my uncle… Wherever he goes, I must go too .

Those words had signed Barda’s death warrant.

For Bess, it had all been very simple. Berry stood between Lewin and Bess. So Berry must die.

The crowd parted briefly and Lief saw that Barda was back in his chair again. Bess was pouring more wine into his cup and her own.

‘Barda!’ Lief roared. ‘Do not drink!’

But it was useless! His voice was drowned by the crowd’s noise.

Animal and bird heads loomed all around him like things out of nightmare. Clowns capered foolishly in front of him, barring his way. He dodged around them, and cannoned into the girls on stilts.

With a shrill scream, one of the girls toppled and fell, crashing down on a group of jugglers.

That attracted Bess and Barda’s attention. Lief saw Barda turn. He saw Bess peer at the crowd, one hand shading her eyes. He saw Kree flutter down from the tree like a black shadow.

Frantically Lief shouted and waved. But Bess and Barda were looking at the girl, who was scrambling unsteadily to her feet while the jugglers crawled around her, picking up the balls they had dropped. Kree was nowhere to be seen.

Again the crowd closed in. Lief put his head down and pushed forward desperately, thrusting people aside, ignoring their angry protests.

‘Make way!’ he shouted. ‘Make way!’

‘Make way yourself, you rude young pup!’ snarled a man in a ragged bear mask. He pushed Lief violently between the shoulder blades.

Lief lurched forward and crashed, sprawling, to the ground. All the breath was knocked from his body. Coughing and gasping he crawled to his knees, shaking his head to clear it.

He had been thrown out of the crowd. Ahead he could see clear ground. He could see the wagon beneath the tree, and the two people sitting at the purple-covered table, ringed with lanterns.

Barda and Bess had picked up their cups and were raising them in a toast.

‘No!’ Lief gasped.

They both threw their heads back, and drank.

‘No!’ Lief croaked in agony. ‘No! Barda! ’

He staggered to his feet and began to run.

It was as though everything was moving very slowly. As though he was seeing everything through a bright mist.

He reached the table, the breath wheezing in his chest. Barda turned to look at him. Bess half rose, her smooth owl face expressionless.

‘What is wrong?’ Barda exclaimed in alarm.

‘Lewin!’ Bess cried, at the same moment. ‘I fear your uncle is not well. His efforts today strained his heart and—’

She broke off. Her golden eyes widened and filled with what seemed like surprise. She looked down at her cup still clutched in her hand.