Emily Rodda - Deltora Quest #8 - Return to Deltora

† The amethyst … calms and soothes. It changes color in the presence of illness, loses color near poisoned food or drink …

† The topaz protects its wearer from the terrors of the night. It has the power to open doors into the spirit world. It strengthens and clears the mind …

† The emerald … dulls in the presence of evil, and when a vow is broken. It is a remedy for sores and ulcers, and an antidote to poison.

† The great ruby … grows pale in the presence of evil, or when misfortune threatens its wearer. It wards off evil spirits, and is an antidote to snake venom.

† The opal … has the power to give glimpses of the future, and to aid those with weak sight … The opal has a special relationship with the lapis lazuli, the heavenly stone, a powerful talisman.

Suddenly impatient, Lief snapped the book closed. Jasmine stirred, then abruptly her eyes opened.

“I am sorry —” Lief began. But she shook her head.

“Something is coming,” she hissed, sitting up. “A horse-drawn wagon. Travelling away from Del.”

Soon Lief himself could hear the sound of plodding hooves and rumbling wheels. He peered through the bushes and, to his amazement, saw Steven’s caravan trundling towards them. There was no jingling sound, for the bells had been taken from the horse’s reins.

Steven was singing, but very, very softly. No one but people very near the road could have heard him. As he came closer, Lief could hear that he was crooning the same verse over and over again.

Come out, Twig and Birdie-o!

Little creatures lying low?

Others rest, but we must go,

Twig and Birdie-o!

“It could be a trap,” Jasmine breathed. “He could be Ol.”

“I do not think so,” Lief whispered back. “He is calling us by the false names we used in Rithmere. Barda must have given them to him.”

“Glock knows them also!” Jasmine hissed. But already Lief was crawling out from the bushes. She sighed and clambered after him.

Steven saw them, smiled broadly, and stopped the caravan. “So there you are,” he said in a low voice, climbing down. “Into the back with Barda, quickly.”

“But this is not the plan!” Lief objected. “We are to meet with the others in the grove of trees outside the Del wall, just after dark. If we go with you now, we will arrive before sunset, and alone.”

“Indeed,” Steve nodded. “Barda will explain all to you. He and I have been talking. I opened a fresh jar of honey for him before we began our journey, and it seems to have done him good. See here!”

He flung the caravan doors wide. And there was Barda, sitting up and grinning.

“Barda! You are well!” Jasmine exclaimed.

Barda shrugged. “Not completely. I would not relish a fight with an Ol.” His grin broadened. “But I could certainly give a small pirate something to think about. Now, get in, quickly. We must be off.”

“Why?” demanded Lief, as he and Jasmine reluctantly obeyed.

“If we reach Del before sunset, Steven can drive straight in. He will look like any pedlar hurrying to reach home before the laws against being on the streets at night come into force,” Barda explained rapidly. “The gates are always crowded at that hour. The Guards will not bother to search the caravan. And standing with the other carts in the yard beside the market square, it will not be noticed. When it is dark, we can slip away.”

“But why change the plan?” Lief was confused.

A rueful expression crossed Barda’s face. “First, because the important thing is to get the Belt to Dain, wherever he may be imprisoned. The three of us, I believe, can do this better alone. Second —” He broke off.

“Second,” said Steven quietly, “we are both certain that there is a spy in our party. That spy may have a secret way of communicating with the Shadow Lord — a way no one would suspect. If so, our plan could already be known in Del. We could be moving into a trap. We cannot risk that. We cannot risk losing the Belt.”

“So we decided to go our own way,” said Barda. “Without telling another soul.”

“Not even Doom?” asked Jasmine, wide-eyed.

Again, Steven and Barda exchanged glances. “No,” said Steven soberly, closing the doors. “Not even Doom.”

Another stuffy, jolting hour. Steven’s voice, singing softly, telling what he could see. Terrifying, tense minutes as the caravan slowed to join a line of carts passing through the city gates. The shouts of Guards. Then the sudden, achingly familiar sounds of Del. Wheels, bells, people shouting, jostling one another, bumping the sides of the caravan as it rumbled slowly over cluttered, cobbled streets.

And at last … stillness. The smell of rotting vegetables. Footsteps moving slowly to the back of the van.

The click of a latch. The doors opening a crack. Steven’s face, tense, peering in, the sky a dimming orange glow behind him. Steven climbing into the van, pulling the doors closed behind him and holding them shut.

“All seems quiet,” he whispered. “The streets are empty. There are no Guards about.”

“Then where are they all?” Jasmine hissed. She put her hands up to Filli, who was whimpering, nuzzling into her collar.

“Del is a big place,” Barda growled. “Perhaps they are guarding the walls. Perhaps they are around the palace …”

“Or perhaps they are waiting outside the walls, in the grove of trees — for us!” said Steven.

Lief shuddered. That would mean that there was indeed a spy in their ranks. It would mean that their friends were at this moment walking into a trap. He began to speak, but Barda held up his hand.

“If that is so,” he said harshly, “we must only be glad that the Belt is safe here. But our friends will not be unprotected. Steven will go now to the meeting place, if he can escape the city.”

“I will escape, one way or another,” Steven said grimly. “And I will attend the meeting. To explain — or to settle a score.” He clasped Barda’s hand, then Lief’s, then Jasmine’s. “Good fortune,” he said husk-ily. “May I see you again, and soon.”

Silently, the four companions climbed from the van. Rats gnawing on piles of vegetable scraps shrilled and scattered around their feet. Steven patted the old horse, which was nibbling at a wilted green leaf. “Wait,” he murmured. The horse nodded, snuffling softly.

Threading their way through a crowd of battered carts, they stole to the end of the small yard. But before they could enter the market square, there was a sudden commotion. A door was flung open with a crash. Rough voices and heavy boots burst, echoing, into the night. The light of many torches lit the darkness.

Hastily, the companions drew back into the shadows of the yard. The sound grew louder. There were crashes, grunts, the chink of stone. What was happening? Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Lief peered cautiously around the corner.

Torches were blazing everywhere. Ten Grey Guards were working in the middle of the square. They were heaving huge blocks of stone into place to make a stepped pyramid with a flat top. Through the center of the pyramid rose a tall pole, towering high and held in place by the blocks that surrounded it.

“Where’s the freak?” one Guard bawled. “The Ichabod?”

“It’s in the palace, feeding,” growled another. “It’ll be down here presently, for more. It prefers its meat cooked, they say.”

There was a gale of harsh laughter. Lief’s skin began to crawl.