Emily Rodda - Ilse Of Illusion

‘Now!’ shrieked Jasmine, and her voice echoed weirdly from the rock. Now … Now … Now …

Barda let go of the rope and sailed through the air. He landed on the dome flat on his belly. The surface of the dome shimmered but did not bend.

Jasmine was already swinging back, her small body hurtling towards the wall with terrifying speed. Lief stood ready to catch her, to cushion her so that she would not smash herself to pieces against the rock.

It was all over in seconds. In seconds, Jasmine was back on the ledge, gabbling instructions. In seconds, Lief was taking Barda’s place, grasping the rope, pressing his foot against the wall, thrusting himself forward at Jasmine’s signal.

Then he was flying, cold air rushing against his face, ears strained for Jasmine’s call.

The dome was huge, filling his view. He felt himself swinging upward. His brain filled with the singing of the Pipe. Louder. Louder …

‘Now!’ shrieked Jasmine.

Lief let go of the rope. His body sailed up through the empty air, up over the dome. His eye caught the flutter of Jasmine’s clothing beside him. He could see Barda stretched motionless below.

Then he was falling. The dim glow of the dome rushed up to meet him. A warm, shimmering haze surrounded him.

He was aware of nothing but sound. Sweet, pure music poured through him, possessed him. It was blind instinct that made him reach for Jasmine’s hand, clutch at Barda’s shoulder, as he began to slip through the haze, and the magic of the Pirran Pipe drew him in.

15 - The Isle of Illusion

The grass was velvety soft under Lief’s feet. Above his head arched a sky of perfect blue. Soft purple hills misted the horizon. The air was warm, and fragrant with the flowers that bloomed beside a rippling silver stream. The shadows under the trees were dappled with sunlight.

Pirra.

The birds seemed to sing the name. The stream babbled it. The leaves whispered it, rustling in a gentle breeze that seemed to breathe magic.

Lief felt hands tugging at his arm. Heard Jasmine’s voice calling him from far away.

‘Lief! Wake! We are inside the dome.’

The blue of the sky shimmered uncertainly, like water. The trees wavered.

‘Lief, behind you! Look!’ Jasmine’s voice was sharp, urgent. It could no longer be ignored. Unwillingly, Lief turned.

A large crowd of people stood silently watching them. One, wearing the tall, stiff head-covering of a Piper, was dressed in purest white. The rest wore fluttering robes in soft, light colours. Many had flowers in their hair. They looked like the Aurons of the rafts, but they were taller, their faces were less sharp and their skin was golden brown.

And behind them, rising high above the tops of the tallest trees, seeming almost to touch the sky, was a glittering spire of glass. It flashed so brilliantly in the sunlight that at first Lief saw it only as a vast, shimmering column.

Then, as his eyes cleared, he realised that it had a shape. It was a vast statue of a woman—a Pirran woman, wearing the head-dress of a Piper. And he knew without doubt that the woman was Auron the Fair, who had long ago made music so beautiful that her audience wept.

The statue’s long robe fell straight to the ground in a thousand glittering glass pleats as sharp as razors. Its fixed, unseeing eyes gazed serenely towards the purple hills. Its tall head-dress glared like a white flame against the blue sky. And embedded in the centre of the white flame, perfect and untouchable, was the stem of the Pirran Pipe.

Lief stared, aghast. No hands could have formed that vast image. It could only have been created by magic.

‘No wonder we are here, in the centre of the island instead of at the edge as we expected,’ Barda muttered.

‘The mouthpiece of the Pipe pulled us to where it wanted us to be.’

‘We will never climb that statue. We would be cut to ribbons in a moment if we tried,’ Jasmine said. ‘You will just have to persuade the dome-dwellers to give us the stem willingly, Lief. They look gentle enough. Surely they will listen to you.’

But Lief was silent, fighting despair. The statue had clearly been created to seal the stem of the Pipe away from every danger for eternity. Those who had made it would never willingly give up their prize. Never.

‘Greetings, strangers.’

Lief forced his dazzled eyes downward, tried to focus on the figure standing before him. It was the man dressed in white. His arms were outstretched in welcome. The people behind him were also smiling, their robes fluttering like the petals of flowers ruffled by a gentle breeze.

‘I am the Piper, Auris,’ the man said. ‘I cannot guess how you have come to our land, but know it must be for a good and beautiful purpose, since nothing evil can dwell here. On behalf of the people, I bid you welcome to Pirra.’

Welcome to Pirra ?

Lief glanced at Barda and Jasmine. Both were struggling to keep their faces blank.

Auris was waiting courteously. Lief wet his dry lips. However hopeless this situation seemed, however sure he was that the dome-dwellers would be enraged by his request, and certainly would not grant it, he had to try.

‘Thank you for your gracious welcome, Piper,’ he said carefully. ‘I am Lief, King of Deltora. I have come with my companions, Barda and Jasmine, to beg a favour of you.’

Auris’s brow furrowed slightly, and it seemed to Lief that the sweet, sunny air flickered.

Then Auris’s face cleared. ‘Ah,’ he said, bowing and smiling. ‘Of course. Deltora. The realm beyond the mountains. You must forgive me, your majesty. For a moment the name escaped my memory. We of Pirra do not feel the need to travel. As I am sure you can well understand.’

He lifted an elegant hand, gesturing at the beauty around him.

‘Indeed,’ said Lief politely.

‘A favour, you say?’ Auris murmured.

Lief took a deep breath, glanced once again at Jasmine and Barda, willing them to be patient, and mentally crossed his fingers for luck.

‘Many of our people are prisoners of the Shadow Lord, who is your enemy as well as ours,’ he said, keeping his voice low and calm. ‘The only thing that will save them is the Pirran Pipe, the stem of which you possess. We already have the mouthpiece, given to us willingly by the Plume people. This was how we were able to enter your magic dome so—’

‘Stop!’ The Piper’s eyes had glazed. The people behind him had begun flitting around so frantically that they seemed blurred. And the light—the light was flickering, dimming …

‘There is no need to fear us!’ Lief exclaimed hastily. ‘We could not take the stem by force, even if we wished it. But I beg you will listen. We have journeyed far through the caverns, and faced many terrible dangers, to find your island.’

There was a low rumbling like distant thunder. The trees, grass and flowers quivered, then began to droop, as though their colours and shapes were melting into the trembling air.

Auris clapped his hands over his ears and screwed his eyes tightly shut. ‘You are speaking gibberish! Your words have no meaning!’ he shouted. He was breathing heavily. His face had turned as white as the belly of a fish. The crowd behind him was surging like a troubled sea.

‘Do not listen to them! They are deluded fools!’ he panted, plainly speaking as much to himself as to the people. ‘There are no caverns. No dangers. No island. No dome. There is only Pirra, where all is beauty, all is peace, all is truth—’

‘ You are the one speaking gibberish, Piper!’ Jasmine burst out, unable to keep silent any longer. ‘There is nothing true in this place.’

‘No!’ Auris’s eyes flew open and seemed to bulge in his head. ‘Stop—’