Emily Rodda - Deltora Quest #5 - Dread Mountain

“Gnome tricks!” growled Barda, running his fingers over the stone and pressing vainly here and there.

“Why do you want to get in?” Prin whispered nervously. “Surely this is the gnomes’ stronghold. Where they eat and sleep. And where they keep their treasure.”

“Exactly,” Barda frowned, still testing the stone.

“The decorations are only on the bottom part of the door, the light part,” said Lief. “That may be a clue.”

He moved very close to the cliff and peered at the seemingly empty space at the top of the door. The dark, uneven rock blurred before his eyes, but he was sure he could make out marks that were not natural.

“There is something carved here,” he muttered. “Words, I think. But they are so small, and the rock is so dark, that I cannot make them out.”

He pulled his cloak and his shirt aside to uncover the Belt of Deltora and noticed at once that the ruby’s rich red had faded to dull pink — a sign that danger threatened. I do not need warning of that, he thought grimly. I know only too well that we are going into danger.

His fingers moved towards the topaz. It had sharpened his wits before. Perhaps it would help him now.

But before he had even touched the gem an idea came to him. He bent, scraped up a handful of the white dust beneath his feet, and smeared it over the dark rock. Then he brushed the loose dust away. The dust that remained caught in the carved letters made them show quite clearly:

“This rhyme is very childish,” frowned Jasmine. “It reminds me of rhymes my father taught me when I was very young. And it was not difficult to make the words visible. These gnomes are not so clever.”

“They are careless too,” said Barda, picking up an arrow from the ground. “If arrows are keys to their door, they should not leave them lying around. And as for finding the arrow’s mate upon the gate …”

He dug the point of the arrow into the carving on the doorknob. The arrow slid into place easily, like a key slipping into a lock. As Barda had suspected, there was a keyhole at the bottom of the carving. Gripping the shaft of the arrow firmly, he turned it until there was a slight but definite click.

“It is unlocked. Shall we go in?” he asked, turning to his companions and drawing his sword.

“No!” Prin begged, unable to keep silent any longer. “You say the gnomes are not clever, but they are, they are! They love tricks and traps. This is their door. If we use it we will die. I know it!”

“We must enter the stronghold, Prin,” said Lief firmly. “The gnomes have something hidden here that we must find. But you need not enter with us. You can return to the path and keep watch.”

He drew his own sword and nodded to Barda, who began to push firmly on the door. With a harsh, grating sound, the great piece of stone began to swing inward.

And just then Lief thought he heard, from somewhere high above them, a muffled giggle. He grasped Barda’s arm and held it. “Wait!” he hissed.

Jasmine had heard the sound too. She was looking up, peering intently at the cliff face. “There is no one to be seen,” she whispered. “But I am sure I heard someone laugh.”

“It was a birdcall, perhaps,” said Barda. He stood, undecided, his hand still on the door.

Kree squawked.

“It was not a bird,” Jasmine said flatly. “It was someone laughing. At us.”

They stood in tense silence for a moment, listening. But once again the Mountain was utterly still, as though it was waiting.

Barda shrugged, grasped his sword more tightly, and pushed the door again. The grating sound grew louder as the slab of rock moved inward. A narrow gap appeared between the door and the cliff wall. From somewhere beyond the gap, light flickered.

Jasmine peered through the crack. “I can see no one,” she murmured. “Beyond the door there is a small room, with a passage leading from it. It is the passage that is lit.”

She looked around at them, her small face full of defiance, her dagger glinting in her hand. “I think we should enter,” she said grimly. “Then whoever is laughing at us may wish they had kept silence.” She put her shoulder against the door and pushed to open it further. Then she turned to Lief. “Are you coming?” she demanded.

Lief stepped forward. But at the same moment Prin bounded in front of him. “No!” she begged. “No, Lief! You at least must not!” Taken by surprise, Lief stumbled, lost his footing, and fell heavily.

He lay on the ground, dazed, staring up at the door. The grooved lines, tall on the pale stone, seemed to shimmer above him. Then — then, to his astonishment, he suddenly saw them for what they were.

Words. The lines were words. He blinked, hardly believing what he was seeing. But it was true. The letters had been stretched tall and narrowed so much that he had not realized they were any more than decoration. But looking at them from below, he could read what they said.

IF YOU WISH TO DIE.

“Lief, I am sorry …” Prin was bending over him anxiously.

Barda was staring at them, his hand on the stone. But Jasmine, shaking her head impatiently, was stepping through the door.

“Jasmine —” Lief spluttered, scrambling to his feet. “Do not go in. Jasmine! It is a trap!”

He leaped forward, catching Jasmine by the wrist just as, with a cry, she plunged into the pit that yawned beyond the door.

Jasmine swung helplessly, Lief’s grip on her wrist the only thing that was saving her from crashing to the bottom of the trap into which she had stumbled.

The pit was deep, but still Lief could see a white glimmer at the bottom. His stomach turned over as he realized they were bones — the bones of other intruders, no doubt. The gnomes had probably been watching through peepholes in the rock as the companions tried to open the door. One had laughed aloud, believing that there were about to be three more victims of the deadly joke. Lief gritted his teeth in anger.

Then Barda was kneeling beside him, and together they were lifting Jasmine up, swinging her to safety.

“We must do the opposite of what the verse says,” said Lief. “We must pull the door, not push it, if we are to enter safely.”

They pulled the door until it clicked shut. Then they unlocked it with the arrow once more, and pulled again. Sure enough, the huge piece of stone grated as easily outward as it had inward.

Barda picked up a few arrows and threw them into the darkness where the pit had been. They clanged on metal.

“It is as I thought,” said Lief. “The pit is usually covered. It is only when the door is pushed inward that the cover slides away.”

“A devilish device,” growled Barda. “If you and I had not hesitated, Lief —”

“I told you the gnomes were clever,” Prin broke in. “They are clever, hate strangers, and love cruel jokes. We must be very, very careful. If they are still watching, they know their trick has failed. They will try something else.”

This time no one argued with her.

They entered the door, tapping the earth in front of them with their shields to check it for safety, listening for any sound of movement. But all was silence. Ahead was the long tunnel they had seen from the entrance.

Their faces ghostly in the light of the flickering torches, they began to creep along the tunnel. Only Jasmine and Prin could stand upright, and even they had to bend their heads. Soon the tunnel turned sharply, and almost at once turned again. Then they came to a place where it split into three. One passage led to the left, one led to the right, and one led straight ahead.