Emily Rodda - The Lake of Tears

But Jasmine had twisted her head to look over her shoulder. It seemed she was thinking only of Kree. “Kree!” she called. “Get to the other side! Make haste!”

The bird was dazed and in pain, but he obeyed the call. He fluttered across the moat, one wing barely moving, his feet almost touching the green slime. He reached the bank and fell to the ground.

Lief and Barda hauled on the cloak, their arms straining. One more pull and Jasmine would be near enough for them to reach her. One more pull …

But Jin and Jod were charging across the moat towards them. The bright patches of green slime between the pale leaves marked their path clearly. They did not hesitate. Already they were almost in the center.

As Lief watched in horror they lunged forward once more, roaring savagely, their clawed hands reaching for their prey.

And then their faces changed, and they shrieked. Their feet had plunged through the green slime — but found no safe ground beneath. Bellowing in shock and terror, they sank like stones, their arms thrashing frantically as their great weight drove them down.

And in seconds it was all over. The horrible screams were smothered. They were gone.

Dazed and trembling, Lief reached out and grasped Jasmine’s wrist. Barda took the other, and together they dragged her up onto the bank. Her injured shoulder must have given her great pain, for she was white to the lips, but she did not murmur.

“What happened?” Barda gasped. “How did they sink? There were stepping stones there — we trod on them ourselves! How could they vanish?”

Jasmine managed a grim smile. “The stepping stones did not vanish,” she muttered. “They are under the leaves I cut and moved. The monsters trod in the wrong places — the places where the leaves were floating before. I knew they would be too stupid, and too angry, to notice that the pattern had changed. They just went from one bright green patch to the next, as they always had.”

Lief stared at the moat. He had not noticed the change to the leaf pattern, either. Even now he could not quite remember exactly how it had been.

Wincing with pain, Jasmine pulled out the tiny jar that she wore attached to a chain around her neck. Lief knew what the jar held: a little of the Nectar of Life that had cured Barda when he was injured in the Forests of Silence.

He thought that Jasmine was going to use it on her gashed shoulder, but instead she crawled to where Kree lay. The black bird struggled feebly on a patch of bare, sandy earth, his beak gaping and his eyes closed. One wing was spread out uselessly.

“You did not go home, wicked Kree,” Jasmine crooned. “You followed me. Did I not tell you there would be danger? Now your poor wing is hurt. But do not fear. Soon you will be well.”

She unscrewed the lid of the jar and shook one drop of the golden liquid onto the broken wing.

Kree made a harsh, croaking sound and blinked his eyes. He moved a little. Then, all at once, he stood up on his feet, fluffed his feathers, and spread both wings wide, flapping them vigorously and squawking loudly.

Lief and Barda laughed with pleasure at the sight. It was so good to see Kree well and strong again — and just as good to see Jasmine’s radiant face.

There was a muffled sound behind them and they turned to see the Ralad man sitting up, blinking in confusion. His patch of red hair stood up like a crest. His eyes stared wildly around him.

“Do not fear, my friend!” cried Barda. “They are gone. Gone forever!”

Lief left them and went to Jasmine. She was sitting on the grass beside the sandy patch of earth, with Filli chattering in her ear. They were both watching Kree soaring and diving above them, testing his wings.

“Let me use the nectar on your shoulder, Jasmine,” Lief said, sitting down beside her.

The girl shook her head. “We must save the nectar for important things,” she said briefly. She dug in her pocket and brought out the jar of cream with which she had treated the Ralad man’s wrists and ankles. “This will do for me,” she said. “The wound is not serious.”

Lief wanted to argue with her, but decided he would not. He was beginning to learn that it was best to allow Jasmine to do things her own way.

The shoulder was badly bruised. Now it was swollen and angry red. Soon it would be deep purple. The wound in the center of the bruise was small, but deep. The corner of the axe blade must have struck there.

As gently as he could, Lief smeared the wound with the strong-smelling green cream. Jasmine sat very still and did not utter a sound, though the pain must have been great.

Barda came up to them with the Ralad man, who nodded and smiled at them, then put the palms of his hands together and bowed.

“His name is Manus. He wishes to thank you for saving him from the Guards, and from Jin and Jod,” Barda said. “He says he owes us a great debt.”

“You owe us nothing, Manus,” said Lief, smiling back at the little man. “You risked your life for us, too.”

Manus bent and, with his long, thin finger, rapidly made a row of marks in the sand beside him.

“‘You saved me twice from death,’” Barda translated slowly. “‘My life is yours.’”

Manus nodded vigorously, and it was only then that Lief realized that he was unable to speak.

Barda saw his surprise. “None of the Ralads have voices, Lief,” he said gruffly. “Thaegan saw to that, long ago. It was when, out of spite and jealousy, she created the Lake of Tears from the beauty of D’Or. The Ralads of that time raised their voices against her. She — put a stop to it. Not just for them, but for all who came after them. There have been no words spoken in Raladin for a hundred years.”

Lief felt a chill. What sort of mad, evil being was this sorceress? Then he thought of something else, and glanced at the silent quicksand. Somewhere in those depths lay Jin and Jod, their wickedness stifled forever.

How long would it be before Thaegan found out? A month? A week? A day? An hour? Or was she flying towards them, filled with rage, at this very moment?

Thaegan had stolen the voices of a whole people because they had dared to speak against her. What sort of horrible revenge would she take on Barda, Jasmine, and Lief, who had caused the deaths of two of her children?

Run! whispered a small, shuddering voice in his head. Run home, crawl into your bed and pull the covers over your head. Hide. Be safe.

He felt a hand touch his arm, and looked up to see Manus beckoning to him urgently.

“Manus is anxious to be well away from here before the sun goes down,” Barda said. “He fears that Thaegan may come. We all need rest, but I have agreed that we will walk as far as we can before making camp. Are you ready?”

Lief took a deep breath, banished the whispering voice from his mind, and nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I am ready.”

That night they slept under a cluster of sweet-plum bushes far away from any stream or path. None of them wanted to be seen by anyone who might tell Thaegan where they were.

They were cold and uncomfortable, for their clothes were still damp and stiff with mud and they could not risk lighting a fire. But still they fell asleep at once, exhausted by all that had befallen them.

Sometime after midnight, Lief stirred. Moonlight shone palely through the leaves of the bushes, making shadows and patches of light on the ground. Everything was very silent. He turned over and tried to settle to rest once more. But, though his body still ached with weariness, thoughts had begun chasing one another through his mind, and sleep would not come.