Emily Rodda: Deltora Quest #6: The Maze of the Beast

“Give me the dagger!” hissed Lief, pulling off the embroidered belt. Wordlessly Jasmine thrust the weapon into his hands. Lief stuck the sharp point into the fabric of the belt and ripped the embroidery apart. The Belt of Deltora slid out into his hands.

For a split second he gazed at it. It was so beautiful. So precious. But the ruby was pale. The emerald was dull.

Danger. Evil. Fear.

“Lief!” shouted Barda.

Lief clasped the Belt around his waist. He gripped it with his hands, drawing strength from its familiar weight and warmth. Perhaps, now, it would never be complete. But even as it was, it had power. The topaz gleamed through his fingers, bright, rich gold.

† The Topaz is a powerful gem, and its strength increases as the moon grows full … It strengthens and clears the mind …

The moon was high above them, blocked by churning sea and a mountain of rock, but still its power reached the stone. Lief felt his mind clear and sharpen, as the mists of confusion and fear lifted.

“This way!” he shouted, pointing to a passage that led away from where Milne had gone. “But slowly, carefully. I think the Beast’s eyes and hearing are weak, but it is attracted by movement. It feels movement in the Maze, as a spider feels insects struggling in its web. That is why it chased Milne, instead of staying and attacking us.”

It was agony to move slowly, when every instinct was telling them to run, run blindly as Milne had done. They crept along, through passage after passage, twisting and turning. They wet their hands and their faces, the better to feel that breath of coolness that would warn them of a crack, a gap, a way out.

At last they could walk no farther. They squeezed into a narrow space between two lumpy, dripping walls. There they rested, panting and shivering, one wall pressed hard against their backs, the other a hand’s breadth from their faces. The sound of Milne’s screams and splashes floated, echoing, in the air. He was still running, lost somewhere in the Maze.

And the terrible sound of the Glus never stopped.

“It is moving so slowly,” whispered Jasmine, listening. “How can it hope to catch him?”

“It has only to follow, and wait,” said Barda. “Even if he does not make a mistake, and meets it face to face around some corner, he will have to rest sooner or later.”

His voice sounded odd. Lief glanced at him quickly. Barda was looking at the wall in front of him. Carefully he raised his hand and slowly traced shapes in the gleaming stone.

A bony arm. Five fingers. A skull, its mouth gaping in a silent scream.

“Here is one who stopped to rest, and stopped too long,” Barda said. He twisted his neck and looked over his shoulder. Milky drops ran slowly, ceaselessly down the wall at his back. Already they were pooling on his shoulders, setting into a fine crust of stone.

With a cry of horror, Lief and Jasmine pulled themselves forward. Drying stone cracked and slid from their backs and shoulders, splashing into the water at their feet. They edged out of their hiding place and, looking back, saw their own shapes imprinted in the wall.

“How long would it have taken before we were stuck fast?” asked Barda grimly. “An hour, perhaps? Even less? If we had slept …”

They began to move again. And now they saw the twisted shapes, the lumps and ridges on walls, columns, and pillars, for what they were. Everywhere they looked were the bones of the dead — clawing hands, sprawled legs, skulls that seemed to shriek of terror.

Lief felt himself shivering all over. He imagined the horror of waking and finding himself trapped by the stone of the wall. He imagined struggling, struggling … while the Glus moved slowly towards him.

“We must not rest,” he muttered. “We must not sleep.”

They crept on, and on, trying to make as little movement as possible, their faces turned to the wall, their hands held out in front of them. After a while, Lief’s thoughts became a wandering haze — a haze of water, white walls, endless movement, words. There is a way out. We must find it. We must not rest. We must not sleep.

Lief’s head fell forward, jolting him awake. He blinked, confused, and realized that he had been walking in a dream. He had no idea of how much time had passed.

Dimly, he became aware that Milne’s screams and splashes had stopped. Perhaps they had stopped a long time ago.

And if — if Milne had stopped running, where was the Beast? Sweat breaking out on his brow, Lief listened to the echoes, and at last made out a soft, horrible sound, mingling with the dripping water. It was not the sticky sliding he had heard before, but a still, sighing, sucking sound that raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

“Barda, Jasmine …” he whispered. But his friends did not answer. They moved, but their eyes were fixed and glazed. They were in a dreamlike state, as he had been.

He took a breath to speak again. Then, suddenly, it was as though a flame shot through him, from his fingers to his face.

The Belt! The Belt had grown hot! Lief stopped, shocked and disbelieving. A rounded pillar of stone stood beside him. Cautiously he moved towards it. The Belt grew even hotter. It seemed to burn under his fingers.

Barda and Jasmine were turning a corner, moving out of sight. Calling, he splashed forward recklessly, catching at their arms to stop them.

Then he froze. For straight ahead of them was the Glus. Its bloated body was rippling and heaving, its head invisible. And from the billowing mountain of flesh came that soft, hideous sound.

But in the same moment, the sound stopped. The body stilled, the head reared upright and faced them, its gaping mouth dripping with blood. The Glus slithered forward, away from the ghastly remains of Milne on which it had been feasting, towards the new disturbance. Its spiked tail curved upward. The stripes on its back began to glow.

Then it struck, lunging forward, white threads hissing from its throat.

Lief, Jasmine, and Barda hurled themselves backwards, falling into the water, scrambling up again and plunging away. The Glus moved on, a little faster.

They reached the rounded pillar of stone. Lief caught hold of it, the Belt burning at his waist. “Barda, Jasmine, the gem is here, inside the stone!” he shouted.

Barda and Jasmine swung around, disbelieving. He nodded violently. “We have been deceived. The gem has been here, all the time.”

“Lief — leave it! We must run!” Jasmine urged, tugging his arm, her eyes on the Glus, swollen and ghastly, sound bubbling deep in its chest.

“No!” Lief cried, holding fast to the pillar. “If I leave this place now I will never find it again!”

“If you stay you will die!” Jasmine shrieked. “Lief!”

Barda gripped her shoulder. His face was grim and set. “Jasmine and I will draw the Beast away, Lief,” he snapped. “Stay still — still as that stone — until we are long gone. Then get the gem and do your best to find your way out. Jasmine! Your dagger!”

“No! We must stay together!” Lief shouted, as Jasmine passed him the weapon.

But already Barda was pulling Jasmine away. She was fumbling inside her jacket. At last she pulled out a ball of yellow wool. Shaking off Barda’s hand, she plunged back to Lief’s side, pulling out a trail of wool as she ran.

“I found this in Where Waters Meet. Hold it fast!” she cried, thrusting the loose end of the wool into Lief’s hand. “It will be our line back to you.”