Emily Rodda - The Lake of Tears

Lief stared, his stomach churning. Then he jumped as his ears, sharpened by fear, picked up a small, stealthy sound from deep within the house. Someone — or something — was moving.

His companions had heard it, too. “Out!” hissed Barda. “Make haste!”

They crept into the open, gasping with relief as finally they were able to breathe in fresh, clean air. They looked around cautiously.

The sweet little cottage they thought they had seen was in fact a grim, hulking square of white stones with no windows. The flower gardens were nothing but beds of onions and thistles. Rough grass stretched on all sides, leading always to the bright green band that marked the quicksand.

In the distance, they could see Jin and Jod. Shouting angrily at one another, they were digging their long pole into a patch of quicksand where something had fallen in, disturbing the green slime before sinking out of sight.

A wave of sadness swept over Lief.

“They were not in time to save him. He has gone under,” said Barda, his face showing his pain.

“Very well, then,” snapped Jasmine. “We have nothing to stay for. So why are we standing here, when at any moment they could turn and see us?”

Lief glanced at her. She returned his gaze defiantly, her lips pressed tightly together and her chin raised. Then she turned and began walking quickly around the house, out of sight.

Lief helped Barda to follow her.

The back of the house was just the same as the front, with a single door and no windows. On all sides, bare grass stretched away, ending in the same band of bright green. Beyond, there was forest. But the quicksand circled the whole of Jin and Jod’s domain like a moat.

“There must be a way across!” muttered Lief. “I cannot believe that they never leave this place.”

Jasmine was scanning the green band with narrowed eyes. Suddenly, she pointed to a slightly mottled-looking section almost opposite the house. The place was marked by a huge rock on the bank. “There!” she exclaimed, and began running.

As quickly as he could, with Barda leaning on his shoulder, Lief hurried after Jasmine. When finally they reached her, she was standing beside the rock at the edge of the quicksand. Now Lief could see what had made the green slime look mottled in this spot. In the middle of the moat floated a cluster of pale green leaves marked with red — the leaves of some swamp plant, perhaps.

The edges of the leaves were straight, so that where they touched they fitted together like a puzzle. Where there were gaps between them, the bright green of the quicksand slime showed ominously.

Lief looked more closely and realized that the red markings on the leaves were even stranger than they had first appeared. They were numbers, letters, and symbols.

He clutched Jasmine’s arm.

“There is a pathway hidden here, I am sure of it!” he whispered in excitement. “There are stepping stones under some of those leaves.”

“But which ones?” muttered Jasmine. “We would have to be very sure. The cluster is in the middle of the quicksand. We have nothing long enough to test which leaves are solid and which are not. We would have to leap, and trust that there is no mistake.”

“The topaz, Lief,” Barda urged. “Perhaps it will help you —”

There was a muffled roar of rage from the house. They spun around just in time to see the back door burst open and crash against the wall. Someone hurtled out and began pounding across the grass towards them. Lief cried out in astonishment as he saw who it was.

It was the Ralad man!

“He is not drowned!” shouted Jasmine. “They saved him after all!” The relief in her voice made it clear that, however uncaring she had seemed, she had in fact cared, very much, about the little prisoner’s fate. Already she was drawing her dagger and rushing to help him.

For now he needed help more than ever. Jin and Jod were after him, bursting through the door, screaming with rage. Jin had caught up an axe, and Jod was holding the long pole out in front of him, savagely swinging it from side to side as he ran. With every swing, the hook at the end, still dripping with slime from its dunking in the quicksand, missed the fleeing Ralad man by a hair. Any moment it might reach its mark.

Lief drew his sword and ran forward, leaving Barda standing, swaying, by the rock. He did not spare a thought for his own danger. The Ralad man’s danger was too clear and urgent for that.

Jasmine’s darting attacks were not slowing Jin and Jod down at all. The point of her dagger seemed to bounce off their leathery skin, and they were barely glancing at her. They were spitting with fury, and plainly far more interested in killing the Ralad man than in fighting anyone else.

It was as if the very sight of him filled them with rage. As if they knew him.

The little man was closer now. Panting in terror, he was desperately waving Lief back, pointing towards the leaves on the quicksand by the big rock and then to his own legs.

Lief realized that they had been wrong in thinking that he had fallen into the quicksand. Mud and slime coated his legs to the knees, but above that he was perfectly dry and clean. Somehow he had crossed the moat — perhaps at this exact spot.

He knows this place, Lief thought. He has been here before.

Two clear pictures flew into his mind. The cruel collar around the Ralad man’s neck. The bed of moldy straw and the frayed rope in the monsters’ kitchen.

And suddenly he was sure that the Ralad man had once slept on that straw, and that the collar he wore was once attached to that rope. Not long ago, he had been a prisoner of Jin and Jod. He was too small to be worth eating, so they had made him their slave. But at last he had escaped, only to be caught by the Grey Guards.

Lief, Jasmine, and Barda had left him asleep among the sweetplum bushes. He must have awoken, found himself alone, and guessed what had happened. Or perhaps he had even been roused by the shouting, and watched their capture from the bushes.

He rang the bell and threw a heavy rock into the quicksand, to lure Jin and Jod away from the house. Then he ran around to the other side of the house and crossed the moat. He returned to this terrible place, when he could have run away to safety. Why?

There could be no reason except to try to save the friends who had saved him.

Lief was only a few steps away from the running figures now. He sprang to one side, signalling to Jasmine to do the same. His mind was racing. His plan was to wait his chance, then leap between the monsters and their victim. He doubted that he and Jasmine could do more than wound them — but that, at least, would give the little man a chance to escape.

For that was the most important thing now. Not just for the Ralad man, but for them all. The small, running man with the muddy feet was the only one who could save them. Only he could tell them the way across the quicksand. Only he could tell them which of the floating leaves were safe to tread upon, and which were not.

Lief thought of the leaves as he had seen them, their strange red markings showing clearly against the shining, pale green background. Then, suddenly, he gasped.

“But he has already told us!” he exclaimed aloud.

Startled, the Ralad man glanced in his direction and stumbled. The great curved hook caught him around the waist, stopping him short and driving all the breath from his body. Jod screamed in triumph and began to pull him in.