Emily Rodda - Deltora Quest #7 - The Valley of the Lost

He looked away, rubbing his streaming eyes. It was impossible to see the city clearly. And yet, he had seen enough to feel puzzled, as well as filled with awe, at its silent, untouched beauty.

“Tora was carved by magic from a marble mountain,” said Dain. “It is perfect — all of one piece, without crack or seam.”

His voice seemed stronger, deeper. Lief glanced at him, wondering, and saw that he was sitting very upright. As had happened once before since Lief had known him, he suddenly looked older, prouder, and less frail. His mouth was firm. His eyes were shining. It was as though a mask had dropped from his face, leaving it unguarded.

He felt Lief’s gaze and turned away quickly. “Now would be a good time to enter the city,” he said, in his normal voice. “It is very early. Most people will not yet be stirring.”

Without waiting for an answer, he crept gently to the end of the boat, and climbed onto the shore. The boat rocked gently. Jasmine and Barda opened their eyes and sat up, startled.

“It — it is all right,” Lief stammered. “We are safe. The flood has refilled an old lake. And it seems — it seems we have reached Tora.”

As Dain had done, he pointed. And as he himself had done only moments before, Barda and Jasmine turned and blinked into the shimmering light.

“So Tora was on the river after all!” Jasmine exclaimed. “Or, at least, on a lake beside the river.”

“And does Dain think we can walk calmly into the place without being stopped?” muttered Barda. “Tora is controlled by the enemy.”

Lief frowned. “That is what Doom said. But — I am starting to wonder if he was telling the truth. I cannot see the city clearly, but there seem to be no Grey Guards at the gate. No mark of the Shadow Lord on the walls. No damage or destruction or rubbish lying about. And it is so peaceful, Barda. Have you ever known a place overrun by Guards to be so?”

Barda hesitated. Then he rubbed his hand across his dry mouth. “Is it possible?” he whispered. “Can it be that the Torans’ magic has been strong enough to repel even the Shadow Lord’s evil? If so, Lief … if so …”

Lief’s heart was thudding with excitement. “If so, the heir to Deltora may be there. Waiting for us.”

The city lay before them, silent, waiting, cloaked in light. The shore of the lake stretched empty and inviting before them. Yet the moment Lief set foot upon it, his excitement vanished, and he was gripped by fear.

Head bent, he slowly followed Dain, struggling with the fear, trying to understand it. Was it a natural caution, a reluctance to plunge half blinded into a place where, despite appearances, enemies might lurk? Was it fear of the powerful magic of Tora itself?

Or was it because, now that the moment had almost certainly come, he feared to meet the heir of Deltora?

He raised his head and with a shock saw that Dain was almost at the edge of the shore. The lonely figure hesitated for a split second, then stepped forward into dazzling light and disappeared. Lief squinted and rubbed his eyes as again they began to water, blurring his view.

He stumbled forward, pulling his cloak around him to hide his sword. We must not look like enemies, he thought confusedly. We must …

“Lief!” he heard Barda call sharply, and realized that his companions had lost sight of him. Every thread of his cloak was glittering, surrounding him with light. He answered the call and waited. Barda and Jasmine reached him in moments, their arms held over their dazzled eyes.

Together they walked the last few steps to the city’s walls. Gradually they became one with the light, and it no longer blinded them. They reached the shore’s end. Tora rose before them in all its vast splendor.

Tora was carved by magic from a marble mountain. It is all of one piece — perfect, without crack or seam.

They stopped for a moment, awestruck. Then, their hands held out in front of them to show they meant no harm, they moved through the vast white archway that was the city’s entrance.

At once they were swept by a tingling chill. It was like being plunged into a deep bath of cool, clear water. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, and Lief lost all sense of where he was or what he was supposed to be doing. When he came to himself he realized that his dazzled eyes had deceived him. He had thought that the arch was merely a gateway, but it was much thicker than he had thought. Instead of moving straight into the city, he and his companions were standing in the shade of an echoing tunnel. Smooth whiteness curved around them.

Kree crooned and clucked, swaying slightly on Jasmine’s arm.

“What was that?” Jasmine whispered. “That — feeling?”

Lief shook his head uncertainly. But he was not afraid. In fact, he felt more at peace than he ever remembered being in his life.

Slowly they walked to the end of the tunnel, and emerged at last into the city light.

No robed figures waited to greet them. No Grey Guards jumped, sneering, into their way. The silence was eerie. Their boots echoed on the broad, gleaming street.

Turning to one side, Lief pulled up his shirt and looked at the Belt of Deltora. The ruby glowed as brightly as ever. So they were not in danger yet. But — the emerald!

Lief stared. The emerald had lost all color. It had become as dull and lifeless as it had been when it was possessed by the monster Gellick on Dread Mountain. What did that mean? Was evil here? Or … he seemed to remember that something else could dull the emerald. What was it?

He and his companions paced on. Halls and houses, towers and palaces, rose, shining, on either side of them. Through tall windows and open doors, rich hangings, silken rugs, and fine furniture could be seen. Everywhere flowers in window boxes bloomed, bright and humming with bees. Fruit trees thrived in huge pots, clustered around courtyards where tables of food and drink stood ready and fountains splashed.

But no one sat by the fountains, tended the trees, or ate the food. No one walked along the streets, or peered from the windows of the houses. No one stood on the silken rugs, or rested in the fine chairs. The city was utterly deserted.

“It is like Where Waters Meet,” whispered Jasmine.

“No,” Barda said grimly. “Where Waters Meet was in ruins. But here — why, it looks as though the people left it only five minutes ago.”

He looked over his shoulder. “How powerful is the Torans’ magic?” he muttered. “Could it be that they have made themselves invisible? And where is Dain?”

Wondering, the hair on the backs of their necks prickling, they moved on through the empty marble streets.

At last, they reached a huge square at the city’s heart, and there at least one of Barda’s questions was answered, for there they found Dain.

Great halls decorated with tall columns surrounded the square. The largest of these stood at the top of a sweeping flight of broad steps. A carved box lay on the top step. It looked out of place — as though it had been brought there for a purpose and then abandoned.

But Dain had not climbed the steps. He was crouched at the foot of a huge piece of marble that rose in the square’s center. Lief knew at once that it was the stone his father had described seeing in the painting at the palace in Del. But no green flames flickered from the stone’s peak. And it was cracked through.

Dain did not move as Lief, Barda, and Jasmine strode towards him. Even when they reached him and spoke his name he did not seem to notice they were there. His eyes, dull and hopeless, were fixed on the stone.

Words were carved on the marble. The jagged crack ran through them like a wound: