Emily Rodda - Shadowgate

Lief gripped the paper tightly. ‘The tune that makes his name has been ringing in my ears, louder and louder,’ he said. ‘Bess felt it too, I think. The further west she travelled, the more thoughts of Bede haunted her. Somewhere very near, Bede is singing his name, over and over again.’

‘I hear nothing but the accursed wind,’ growled Barda. ‘And the beasts, howling in the Shadowlands. Perhaps you hear the tune because of the Belt, Lief.’

‘Or because I wore Bede’s mask, if only for a little time,’ Lief muttered. ‘It does not matter which. What matters is that we do not need a dragon to take us to the Sister of the North. The guardian himself will guide me.’

Their path took them past the walled village, but they did not knock upon the gate, and no-one challenged them. A few wisps of chimney smoke drifted over the wall, but these were the only signs of life.

‘Life here was always harsh, no doubt,’ Barda murmured. ‘But how much worse it must be now! Surely most people have died or fled.’

Lief nodded. He wondered if the parents of Kirsten and Mariette, the two lost girls, lived on inside the wall.

What would they say if they knew that the faithless one who stole their daughters’ hearts was still alive—and thriving like an evil weed within their land?

The sky grew darker as the companions began to thread through the maze of rocks and cliffs that lay beyond the village. Soon the light was so dim that they were almost feeling their way. Jasmine called Kree back to her shoulder. They lit torches, and moved on.

The clouds seemed to be pressing down upon them. Lightning flashed, and thunder rumbled ominously.

‘This storm is not natural,’ Jasmine breathed.

Lief stopped abruptly, and held up his torch.

‘Look there!’ he whispered.

A few paces ahead stood a tall stone. It looked horribly familiar.

They crept forward. Torchlight fell, flickering, on the stone.

Jasmine shivered. Filli had scurried beneath her jacket. Kree sat motionless on her shoulder, his feathers fluffed up, his beak slightly open.

‘It is like the stone that guarded Dragon’s Nest,’ she muttered. ‘The verse seems to say that Shadowgate is beyond. Yet we passed the village long ago.’

‘The village was named after the place, no doubt,’ said Barda. He wiped sweat from his brow and glanced at Lief. ‘Do you still hear the music?’ he asked abruptly.

Lief nodded. The feeling of sickness had returned. His head was so full of sound that he could not speak. He moved past the stone, his face turned away from it.

Despair and die…

He heard his companions following him. I am leading them to their deaths, he thought.

Lightning cracked across the boiling sky, lighting up the flat sheet of rock upon which they stood, and a vast mass of jagged peaks blocking the way ahead.

Lief looked down at the Belt of Deltora. The ruby and the emerald had lost their radiance, but the topaz and the lapis-lazuli were still glowing more brightly than the rest.

They shine because their dragons have awoken, Lief thought. The ruby and the emerald would shine, too, if danger and evil were not all about us. Four dragons now fly Deltoran skies. But faith and happiness are far behind us. Luck has deserted us. Honour has turned its back on us. We are alone.

‘We are together,’ Jasmine said loudly behind him. ‘We have the Belt of Deltora to protect us. We must not fear. We must not despair.’

Lief knew that Jasmine was not talking to him. Jasmine was talking to Kree, to Filli, and to herself, defying the evil spell of the stone.

But her words cut through his haze of misery. He put his hands on the Belt. He felt the strength of the diamond, the calm of the amethyst, the hope of the opal, flow through him. He felt his mind sharpen as the topaz glowed beneath his fingertips.

And as the lightning flashed again, he saw the mass of rock ahead shimmering and changing before his eyes. He caught his breath and gripped the Belt more tightly. He watched, astounded, as rocky peaks became towers, cliffs became high, sheer walls, hollows dissolved into barred windows…

A vast castle lay revealed before him. Evil seemed to stream from it like a vile smell.

He heard Jasmine and Barda gasp.

‘You see it,’ he said huskily.

‘Yes,’ Barda muttered. ‘Lead on!’

And Lief felt them move into place beside him.

Nothing barred their way. No creature menaced them. But as they moved towards the castle door, thunder roared above them, and lightning split the writhing clouds.

‘The Masked One is waiting for us inside,’ Lief murmured. ‘He knows we are here. He wants us to come to him.’

‘So it seems,’ Barda said. ‘He is proud, like his evil Master in the Shadowlands. And his pride will be his downfall.’

He raised a great fist, and banged upon the door.

‘Stay out here and keep watch, Kree,’ Jasmine whispered. Kree squawked reluctantly, but left her shoulder and flew away into the dimness.

We have no plan, Lief thought. We are walking into the web of this sorcerer with nothing but our wits and the Belt of Deltora to aid us.

He glanced at Jasmine, and she smiled. So be it, he thought, and straightened his shoulders.

They waited in silence. They heard no footsteps. But suddenly there was the sound of a key turning in the lock.

Slowly the door creaked open.

There stood a beautiful young woman in a long white robe.

A locket on a fragile golden chain nestled at the woman’s throat. Her small feet were bare. A long, heavy braid of yellow hair, bound with golden thread, hung over one shoulder to far below her waist. Her eyes were wide and frightened.

This was the last thing the companions had expected.

Can this be Manette? Lief thought in amazement. Can it be that she still lives? Is her love for Bede so strong that she remains with him, even now? Can it be that Bede himself…?

You will quickly tire of her. Why, only last year you were dallying with her sister…

So Bess had said to her son. Had she been wrong?

Barda was the first to recover.

‘We are travellers, caught in the storm,’ he said, stepping forward. ‘We beg for shelter.’

‘We are not prepared for visitors,’ the woman murmured rapidly. ‘I fear we cannot—’

She caught sight of Lief, and gasped. Her hand flew to her throat. Then she glanced quickly behind her. Soft music had begun, drifting from somewhere within.

The woman bit her lip, and pulled the door wider. She watched silently as the companions moved inside. Then she closed the door behind them, turning the key in the lock once more.

The entrance hall was huge—as large as the entrance hall of the palace in Del. Hundreds of candles burned in great metal rings hanging from the ceiling. Streaks of emerald gleamed in the carved rock walls.

‘Follow me, if you please,’ the woman said.

She turned and led them through the hall. At the far end stood two tall doors. The woman put her hands to the doors, preparing to push them open.

‘Wait!’ whispered Lief. ‘Please tell me! What is your name? What are you doing here?’

The woman turned. Her eyes were dark with misery.

‘My name is Kirsten,’ she murmured. ‘And I am here because once I loved too well.’

Before Lief could speak again, she pushed open the doors.

17 – The Castle