Emily Rodda - Shadowgate

The moon sailed overhead in a sea of stars. It was almost as bright as day, but everything was black, white and grey. There were no trees. The mountains glowered above them, black as the sky. Rocks rose all around them, glistening in the moonlight. A dull roaring filled the air.

‘Waterfall,’ Steven breathed.

He led the way to the front of the van. Mellow stood there, placidly munching leaves from a scraggy bush. She had never looked more ordinary. There was not a bee to be seen.

‘Where is Kree?’ Jasmine asked, looking around in sudden alarm.

‘Far behind, I fear,’ Steven whispered. ‘He could not keep up with us.’

Mellow snickered, as if with satisfaction, and tore off another leaf.

Steven grinned. ‘Come on—and quietly,’ he said. ‘This villain is slippery. We must take him by surprise.’

A few steps ahead, a path led up a gentle rise. Beyond the rise they could see the waterfall—a broad, foaming sheet of white, covering the cliff like a veil.

A wooden gate had once barred the path, but this had been pushed down and now lay flat on the ground. The sign fixed to it had been trampled by hoofs, but the words could still be read.

Quietly the companions moved over the gate. As soon as his foot touched the path, Lief’s body began to tingle. The Belt was somewhere ahead. He could feel it. He began to move faster.

‘Why would such a beautiful thing have an ugly name like “The Funnel”?’ Jasmine whispered, looking up to where the waterfall began, high above them.

‘That question will be answered when we see the bottom, I fear,’ Lief muttered.

In moments he was proved right. They reached the top of the rise. The waterfall thundered directly ahead. And below…

They stared, awe-struck.

Below them, at the base of the waterfall, yawned the foaming mouth of The Funnel.

It was if the jaws of the earth had opened to receive the great flood of water pouring from the cliff top. Deep within the vast basin of rock the water was spinning like a gigantic whirlpool, swirling down into The Funnel’s throat like water rushing down a drain.

‘A pleasant place to spend the night, indeed,’ Steven muttered.

Lief tore his eyes away from The Funnel and scanned the gently sloping rock that surrounded it.

At first he could see nothing but gleams and shadows. Then, suddenly, there was a tiny movement. His eyes focused, and he jumped.

Where before he had seen only bare rock and a mist of spray from the waterfall, he now saw four black horses yoked to a large wagon. A thin man was standing in front of the horses, a brimming bucket in his hand.

‘I thought so,’ Steven breathed. ‘His wagon is protected by disguising magic. Like your cloak, Lief, though far more powerful. That is how he comes and goes unseen. The Enemy has given him some powers in return for service, it seems. We will have to take care.’

‘I cannot see Zerry,’ Lief whispered. ‘He must be asleep in the back of the wagon.’

Cautiously, keeping low, they began to follow the path down.

They reached the valley floor and hid behind a boulder. Laughing Jack was still standing with his horses. They could not see his face, but they could see the bucket swinging in his bony hand, and hear his high, grating voice.

‘Would you like a little water, you stupid beasts?’ he was saying. ‘Ah yes, of course you would. You have not drunk all day. You must be thirsty. Very, very thirsty. So—will I give you a drink?’

The horses stretched out their necks and seemed to groan.

‘He is tormenting them!’ breathed Jasmine. She was trembling with fury.

‘Look!’ cried Laughing Jack, swinging the bucket even more so that water slopped over the sides and onto the ground. ‘Water! Can you see it? Can you smell it? Well, you cannot have it!’

Cackling with laughter, he turned away from the horses and moved into view, still carrying the brimming bucket.

Lief stared at him with loathing. He was dressed in black from head to foot. A braid of greasy brown hair hung down his back, skinny as a rat’s tail. His face was skull-like. Skin like old leather stretched tightly across his jutting bones, and the large teeth gleamed in a permanent grin.

A little distance from the wagon, Laughing Jack had made comfortable arrangements for his evening meal.

Bread, fruit, cheese and some sort of sausage lay on a platter near a small camping stove. A plump red sack had been placed in front of the platter, for a seat. All of this was protected from the spray of the waterfall by a huge red and white striped umbrella.

No doubt that umbrella once stood over the market stall of one of his victims, Lief thought.

He realised that his fists were clenched, and forced himself to relax. The important thing now was to find the Belt. Everything else had to wait.

Laughing Jack filled a kettle from the bucket. He lit the stove and set the kettle upon the flames. Then he sat down with a satisfied sigh, and helped himself to bread and sausage.

‘He can still see the wagon,’ Jasmine whispered. ‘We will never get to it unseen, even under Lief’s cloak.’

‘You will if I will distract him,’ Steven answered.

Alerted by the grim tone of his voice, Lief glanced at him uneasily. Dark shadows were moving in the golden eyes. Steven’s brother, Nevets, was very aware of what was happening.

My brother and I have long looked forward to meeting Laughing Jack…

‘Steven, take care,’ he pleaded. ‘Before—before anything else happens, I must find the Belt.’

Steven gritted his teeth. ‘I know that,’ he said.

He stepped out from behind the rock, put his hands in his pockets and walked casually forward.

‘Good evening, sir!’ he called. ‘A fine night, is it not?’

Laughing Jack stiffened. Slowly he turned his head.

‘Did I startle you?’ Steven said cheerily, strolling towards him. ‘I beg your pardon. I thought you had surely heard me coming, but the waterfall is very noisy, of course.’

Laughing Jack made no reply.

Steven paced admiringly around the striped umbrella. ‘Why, you are set up very nicely here!’ he exclaimed. ‘May I join you?’

He sat down on the other side of the stove. Laughing Jack was forced to turn away from the wagon to keep him in view.

‘Now,’ Lief breathed.

He drew Jasmine close to him and wrapped her in his cloak. Together they began to creep towards the wagon.

‘This waterfall is a fine sight indeed,’ Steven said. ‘It takes my mind from my troubles.’

‘Troubles?’ murmured Laughing Jack, leaning forward slightly.

‘Indeed,’ Steven sighed. ‘The cart I use to take my goods to market is quite worn out, and I have no gold to buy another. People say I should sell the jewels my old aunt left me. But I do not want to do that. They have been in my family for generations.’

‘Ah!’ Laughing Jack leaned forward even further. ‘Well, well. What a fortunate chance that we met. I may be able to help you.’

Lief smiled wryly. Steven had all the moneylender’s attention now. No doubt Laughing Jack thought he had found a perfect victim.

The horses did not look around as Lief and Jasmine approached. Blinkers shielded their eyes, and their heads hung low. Straining against their heavy harness, they were trying to lick water from the rock.

Lief’s heart ached for them. After this is over, we will help you, he promised them silently.

As though he had spoken aloud, one of the horses on the far side lifted its head. Fearful that it would make a sound, Lief tightened his grip on Jasmine and slipped quickly around to the back of the wagon.