Emily Rodda - Deltora Quest #8 - Return to Deltora

But Fallow did not see him. He was looking much higher — to the tower. Seven huge birds perched on the tower roof, their cruel, curved beaks outlined against the scarlet sky. Inside, where once the Belt of Deltora had lain in its glass case, red smoke swirled. And a shadowy figure stood motionless. Watching. Waiting …

Lief sidled further along the ledge. Now he was exactly where he wanted to be — on a small stone platform directly above the Place of Punishment, and beside the metal pole that bore the flag of the Shadowlands. Forcing his shaking hands to do his bidding, he pulled his coil of rope from his belt and tied one end of it to the flagpole. He tugged it gently, and knew it would hold.

Fallow swung back to face the crowd. He gestured, and the Guards pulled the six condemned prisoners roughly back, to stand against the palace wall.

“Their punishment can wait!” Fallow cried, his voice cracking with glee. “I can now announce, that, by my orders, our three greatest enemies have been captured! I knew it would be so!”

His face dark with spite and anger, he bent to heave up the crumpled figures at his feet.

And Lief’s breath caught in his throat as he saw that the helpless couple were his mother and father. Ragged, gaunt, they sagged in Fallow’s cruel hands.

He shook them by their iron collars, as a dog shakes a rat, then set them back on their feet. They stood, swaying. “These two wretches will see their son before they die!” he snarled. “Behold them! The father and mother of treachery! Now they will pay for the evil they have caused, the lies they have told!”

There was a terrible roaring in Lief’s ears. He saw the crowd staring at the prisoners. He saw many of the blank faces crease with pain as they recognized the kind, quiet man and the sweet, lively woman from the blacksmith’s forge. Some, perhaps, did not even know their names. But they knew their natures. And so they grieved, hopelessly, for what was to come.

And Lief — Lief slowly unclasped the Belt of Deltora and put it down at his feet. It would have helped him in the fight ahead, but he knew that this was a fight that in the end he could not win. If he was to die, he would not die wearing the Belt. He would not allow it to be part of his defeat and pain. Or let his parents see it trodden into the dust.

He stared down at the precious, mysterious thing that had brought them all to this. It was complete. And it was powerful. Powerful enough to kill Dain. Powerful enough to feel the presence of the heir. And yet … somehow it was not perfect. Somehow, they had not discovered its final secret. He was tormented by the feeling that the answer was before his eyes, if only he could see it.

The gems lay gleaming in their steel medallions. The topaz. The ruby. The opal. The lapis lazuli. The emerald. The amethyst. The diamond.

Lief remembered the winning of every one — what he had felt as each stone was added to the chain in turn.

Added … in turn …

His scalp began to prickle. Well-remembered words from The Belt of Deltora swam into his mind:

† Each gem has its own magic, but together the seven make a spell that is far more powerful than the sum of its parts. Only the Belt of Deltora, complete as it was first fashioned by Adin and worn by Adin’s true heir, has the power to defeat the Enemy.

… complete as it was first fashioned by Adin …

… together the seven make a spell … a spell … SPELL!

Lief pulled out his dagger, crouched over the Belt. His fingertips tingled as quickly, quickly, he used the dagger’s tip to lever the gems from their places, one by one. It seemed to him that they came easily, helping him. Helping him again as he replaced them — but this time in a different order. The right order.

Diamond. Emerald. Lapis lazuli. Topaz. Opal. Ruby. Amethyst.

DELTORA.

With a great sigh, Lief stood up, the Belt of Deltora gleaming in his hands. His breathing had slowed. His hands were steady. He knew, beyond doubt, that at last the Belt was as it should be. Now it was as it had been when first fashioned by Adin, who had used the first letters of the seven tribes’ talismans to form the name of their united land. Now it was ready to be claimed by Adin’s true heir.

And Jasmine was coming. At any moment she would be dragged onto the platform. Now Lief knew why he had been led to this place. Now he had a plan.

There was a sudden confusion of noise from the windows below him. The newest captives were coming through. Fallow shrieked an order. Guards touched torches to the red cones. The crowd gasped in shock as blinding white light hissed and flared. Light flooded the Place, lighting the faces of the prisoners, banishing every shadow, illuminating the whole of the side of the palace almost to the roof.

Bathing Lief in brilliance.

He shrank back, but there was nowhere to hide. And the people of Del, looking up, could see him. See him clearly. His stomach heaved as he waited for them to call out, pointing and exclaiming. Waited for Fallow to turn, for Fallow’s eyes to follow the pointing fingers, to sight him, to shriek to the Guards …

But there was utter stillness. Utter silence. Lief saw a wide-eyed little child in her mother’s arms began to lift a hand. But the mother quickly pushed the hand down, murmuring softly, and the child stilled.

Lief stared, holding his breath. The people of Del stared back, their faces intent. Many knew him well — his friends, their parents, those who had visited the forge while he worked with his father. Others knew him only by sight — as a nuisance, a wild boy running with his friends through the city. Some did not know him at all.

But they knew he was one of them. They saw what was in his hands. And none of them was going to give him away.

Fallow had noticed nothing. He was watching as Jasmine, Barda, and Doom, blindfolded with hoods and heavily chained, were dragged to his side.

Lief measured the distance to Jasmine with his eyes. He took the rope in his right hand. Grasped the Belt firmly in his left …

The people watched. Silent. Wishing him well. He felt their thoughts as clearly as if they had shouted them aloud. Flowing through him. Giving him strength.

“Now!” Fallow cried. “Now I show you three traitors who nearly escaped, because a vain and foolish creature, bloated with pride, thinking to be my rival, put his own secret plans into action while I was — occupied with other important duties.”

Grinning, he snatched off Jasmine’s hood. Then Barda’s. But when he saw Doom, the grin vanished. He took a step back, his face a mixture of fear and rage.

Wait …

Leif saw his father turn, look at Doom. He saw his father’s eyes light with mingled joy and pain. Saw him stretch out a trembling hand to his boyhood friend.

And saw Doom staring back, his ravaged face suddenly blazing with consciousness, with memory. Then turning this way and that, looking around him, searching urgently for someone he could not find.

Searching for me.

“You fools!” Fallow hissed savagely to the Guards who had brought the prisoners. “This is not one of the three! Where is the boy? The boy ?”

The Guards mumbled in confusion and backed away.

Now!

Lief jumped, Kree screeching above his head. He swung outward, then let go of the rope and landed just beyond Jasmine, stumbling, then regaining his feet. He lunged for her, the Belt in his hand. He saw her face, wild-eyed with shock, heard Barda shouting, the crowd roaring, Fallow screaming to the Guards. And from the tower, a cry of rage that pierced his flesh, melted his bones, forced him to his knees.