Deltora Quest #4: The Shifting Sands (2 page)

L
ief fought down the panic that threatened to engulf him. The shadow of the Ak-Baba had turned the water black. He could no longer see the fish, but he could feel their weight. Dozens were now swimming above the cloak, cutting the companions off from the surface, pressing them down, down …

Lief’s head was spinning. He began to struggle, his chest aching with the need to breathe. Desperately he pushed at the cloak above his head, but the fish were clustered together so tightly on top of it that they were like a living, moving ceiling, impossible to break.

His struggles became more and more feeble. He could feel himself losing consciousness, his mind drifting away from his body.

Is this, then, how it ends? he thought. After all we
have faced … A picture of his mother and father at home flashed through his mind. They would be breakfasting now, in the forge kitchen. Talking of him, perhaps, and of Barda.

They will never know what became of us, Lief thought. Our bones will lie in this mud forever, and with them the Belt of Deltora.

Dimly he became aware of urgent nudges on his legs and chest. The fish were bumping against him. They seemed to be trying to push him upwards. And — the fish above his head were moving aside.

With the last of his strength he forced his trembling legs to straighten. His head broke the surface and he took huge, grateful gulps of air.

At first he could see nothing. The cloak was still draped over his head, clinging to his face. Then it fell away and he was left blinking at Barda and Jasmine, who were as gasping and bedraggled as he.

In terror he looked up. But the Ak-Baba was well past the channel, flying steadily over the plain towards the plume of smoke on the horizon.

“It did not see us!” he croaked, coughing. “It passed us by.” He could not believe it.

“Of course,” Jasmine grinned, gathering the drifting cloak into a bundle. “When it looked down at the water it saw nothing but a school of fish. Fish that it had seen a hundred times before.”

She patted her hands on the rippling surface. “Ah, you were clever, fish,” she laughed. “You hid us well.”

The fish swam about her, lazily blowing bubbles. They seemed pleased with themselves.

“I thought they were trying to drown us,” said Barda. “And all the time they were disguising us from the Ak-Baba. Whoever heard of fish coming to anyone’s aid?”

“These are no ordinary fish,” Jasmine assured him. “They are old and wise. They had no love for the rats who turned the plain on one side of their river into a wasteland. And they have no love for the Shadow Lord or his servants, either.”

“They
told
you this?” asked Lief, amazed.

The girl shrugged. “They are no ordinary fish,” she repeated. “They would speak to you, too, if only you would listen.”

Lief stared at the shapes beneath the water and concentrated with all his strength. But all he could hear was rippling and the sound of bubbles.

“I should have known we would not die in the river,” he murmured. “On the plain the opal showed me a vision of myself standing in the Shifting Sands. If I am to die anywhere, it will be there.”

He felt Barda and Jasmine’s eyes upon him. “Does the opal tell what
will
be? Or only what
might
be?” asked Barda abruptly.

Lief shrugged. He did not know.

Kree called from the other side of the channel.

“We must move on,” Jasmine said. “The Ak-Baba may return this way.”

With the fish swimming ahead of them to make their way easy, the companions waded on across the channel. When at last they had reached the opposite shore they turned and bowed their thanks.

“We owe our lives to you, fish,” Jasmine called softly, as Kree flew down to perch on her arm. “We thank you for your kindness.”

The fish ducked their own heads, then slowly swam away, their tails waving as if in farewell.

Kree squawked and took flight once more. Lief, Barda, and Jasmine followed him as he fluttered towards a tree that grew beside the water, its long, feathery green branches bending and sweeping the ground.

They pushed through the greenery and found themselves in a small clear space surrounded on all sides by drooping branches. It was like a little green room with the tree’s gnarled trunk in its center. Filli sat there waiting for them. He scuttled over to Jasmine and leaped onto her shoulder, chattering with pleasure.

Groaning with relief, the three companions sank to the ground. A thick layer of soft brown leaves cushioned their aching bones. Above them was a roof of green. Around them were walls that whispered in the gentle breeze.

“Safe,” murmured Jasmine. But for once there was no need for her to explain what the tree had said. They all felt its peace.

In moments, they were asleep.

When Lief woke, he was alone. Birds were calling above his head. It was cool, and the light was dim.

The sun is going down, he thought, shivering. I have slept the whole day through.

Where were Barda and Jasmine, Kree and Filli? Lief crawled over to the hanging branches that curtained his shelter, parted them cautiously and peered out. With a shock he realized that the sun was not setting, but rising. He had slept not just through the day, but through the following night as well!

Jasmine and Barda were coming towards the tree. He guessed they had been searching for food and hoped they had found something. His stomach felt hollow. It seemed a very long time since he had eaten. He pushed through the leaves and ran to meet them.

“Apples!” Barda called, as he approached. “Rather wizened, but sweet enough, and strangely filling.”

He threw an apple to Lief, who sank his teeth into it ravenously and soon finished it, core and all.

“It is said that stolen fruit tastes the sweetest,” Barda laughed, tossing him another.

“Stolen?” asked Lief, with his mouth full.

“Those trees over there are an orchard,” said Barda, pointing behind him. “Jasmine helped herself without troubling to find the owner and ask permission.”

Jasmine tossed her head. “The trees are groaning with fruit,” she snapped. “They are anxious to be picked.
And you can see how withered the apples are. Who could object to us helping ourselves?”

“I am not complaining,” said Lief cheerfully. “The last time I had an apple —” He broke off, the sweet fruit suddenly dry in his mouth. The last time he ate an apple he was in Del, feasting with his friends. It had been his sixteenth birthday. It was the day he had said goodbye to childhood, the life he had known, his home, and the parents he loved. How long ago it seemed now.

Jasmine was looking at him curiously. He realized that his expression had grown sad and quickly he turned away. Jasmine had lived alone in the Forests of Silence, with only Filli and Kree for company. She had seen her parents taken away by Grey Guards, and braved terrors without number from her earliest childhood. He was sure that his homesickness would seem a weak and childish thing to her.

He took another bite of his apple, then jumped as a high-pitched voice rang out.

“Thieves!”

Lief squinted against the shimmering dawn light. Something was rolling through the long grass towards them, shrieking. As it drew closer he realized that it was a little old woman. She was so plump, and so wrapped and bundled in shawls, that she seemed completely round. Thin brown hair was screwed up into a tiny topknot on her head. Her face was
creased and crinkled all over like a wizened apple, and red with anger. She was frowning furiously, shaking her fist.

“Thieves!” she shrieked. “Vagabonds! Give them back! Give them back!”

The three companions stared at her, open-mouthed.

“You stole my apples!” the old women shrieked. “You stole my beauties while my guards slept. Where are they? Give them to me!”

Silently, Jasmine passed over the three apples that remained in her hands. The woman clasped them to her chest and glared.

“Cheat! Where are the others?” she shouted. “Where are the other six? Every apple is numbered. Every one must be accounted for. How else can I fill my quota? Nine fruit you took, and nine must be returned.”

Barda cleared his throat. “I am very sorry, madam, but we cannot return them. I fear they are already eaten.”

“
Eaten??
”

The old woman seemed to swell, and went so red that Lief feared she might explode.

“We — we beg your pardon,” he stammered. “We were so hungry, and —”

The old woman threw back her head, raised her arms, shook her shawls, and gave a terrible, high-pitched cry.

Immediately she was surrounded by a dark, whirling, humming cloud.

Bees. Thousands of bees. They had been riding on her back, clustered under her shawls. Now they were swarming in the air around her, waiting for the order to attack.

L
ief, Barda, and Jasmine stumbled back. The cloud of bees surged this way and that, making patterns in the air behind the old woman’s head. Their buzzing was like the threatening growl of a great animal.

“You thought I was unprotected, did you?” screeched the old woman. “You thought you could steal from me without fear. My guards are small, but many, and act with one mind. You will suffer death by a thousand stings for what you have done.”

Jasmine was desperately feeling in her pockets. She found what she was looking for and held out her hand. Gold and silver coins gleamed in the sunlight.

“Will you take these for your apples?” she asked.

The old woman gave a start. Her eyes narrowed. “If you have money, why do you steal?” she demanded. But her wrinkled hand shot out and took the coins.

“No!” Lief exclaimed, lunging forward without thinking. “That money is all we have. You cannot take it all for a few dried-up apples!”

The bees surged at him, buzzing dangerously.

“Softly, boy, softly. Gently, gently!” cackled the old woman. “My guards do not like sudden movements, and are easily angered. Why, even I must use smoke to calm them when I take their honey from the hive. Even I.”

She made a soft sound and the cloud of bees behind her shrank and disappeared as the creatures returned to the folds of her shawls. She tucked the coins carefully away and scowled at the companions.

“Let this be a lesson to you!” she ordered. “And tell all your fellow vagabonds that the next thieves who come here will receive no mercy.”

Lief, Barda, and Jasmine hesitated.

She shook her fist at them. “Go on!” she shrilled. “Get back to the road where you came from.”

“We did not come from the road, old woman! And we are not thieves, either!” Jasmine cried.

The woman grew very still. “If you did not come from the road, then where did you come from?” she murmured after a moment. “There is no other way to my orchard. Except …”

Suddenly she reached out and grasped the edge of Lief’s cloak. Feeling its dampness, she gasped and slowly raised her head to look across the water and away to the horizon where a faint drift of smoke still rose over the Plain of the Rats.

A look of dread crossed her wrinkled face.

“Who are you?” she whispered. Then she held up her hand. “No — do not tell me. Just go! If you are seen here not even my bees will be able to protect me.”

“How do we find the road?” asked Lief quickly.

She pointed to the orchard behind her. “Go through the orchard. There is a gate on the far side. Hurry! And forget what I said. Tell no one you were here.”

“You can count on that,” said Barda. “As I presume we can count on you forgetting you ever saw us?”

She nodded silently. The three companions turned and strode away across the grass. As they reached the trees they heard a shout and looked back. The strange old woman was standing, round as a ball, in a cloud of bees, staring after them.

“Good fortune!” she cried, raising her arm.

They lifted their own arms in reply, and went on.

“It is all very well to wish us good fortune now,” complained Jasmine as they threaded their way through the apple trees. “A few moments ago she was threatening to have us stung to death by her bees. And she did not offer to return our money.”

Barda shrugged. “Who knows what troubles she has suffered? Perhaps she is right to be suspicious of strangers. Except for the bees she seems all alone here.”

“She spoke of a ‘quota’ that had to be filled,” Lief said slowly, as they reached the end of the orchard and let themselves through a gate that led to a winding,
tree-lined track. “It sounds as though she has to grow a certain number of apples.”

“Or make something from them,” said Barda. He closed the gate behind them and nodded towards a sign fixed to the old wood.

“Queen Bee Cider was a drink much prized among the guards and acrobats when I was at the palace in Del,” Barda went on. “It gave extra strength to anyone who drank it. It seems that it is made here — by our friend back there, who is no doubt Queen Bee herself.”

Lief sighed. “I wish that she had given us a glass or two before sending us on our way.”

Indeed, all of them were tired and in low spirits as they trudged along the track, talking in low voices. They knew that their next goal must be the Shifting Sands. But how they were to reach it was a mystery.

In all their minds was the thought that they had no money, no food, no blankets, no packs — nothing but the map Lief’s father had drawn for him, their weapons, and the ragged clothes on their backs.

And the Belt of Deltora, Lief reminded himself. But the Belt, for all its power, for all that three stones now glimmered in their places along its length, could not fill their bellies or shelter them from the weather.

“The opal gives glimpses of the future,” said Jasmine, after a moment. “Surely it can tell us what is ahead?”

But Lief was unwilling to touch the opal. His vision of the Shifting Sands still haunted him. He had no wish to experience it again.

“We do not need to see into the future to know that we need help,” he said, staring straight ahead. “We need supplies and a safe place to rest for a while. Let us think only of that for now.”

He expected Jasmine to argue, but when he glanced at her he saw that she had stopped listening to him and was concentrating on something else.

“I hear carts and the sound of feet,” she announced finally. “Voices, too. There is a larger road ahead.”

Sure enough, in a few more minutes the winding trail met a broad, straight highway. Cautiously they looked both ways along its length. A horse-drawn cart was approaching from the right with several men and women walking beside it.

“It seems there are others going our way,” muttered Barda. “They look harmless enough. But still it might be wise to wait until they have passed. We cannot afford too many questions until we are well away from here.”

They crouched among the trees and watched while the cart came closer. It was worn and rickety, and the horse that pulled it was old and plodding. But the people — those walking beside it as well as those who jolted along inside — were talking and laughing with one another as though all was well with the world.

Lief heard the name “Rithmere” repeated several times as the cart passed by. It was clear that Rithmere was a town, and that the people were looking forward to reaching it. His spirits rose.

“There must be a festival or fair being held in this Rithmere place,” he whispered.

“A festival in these days?” grunted Barda. “I cannot believe it. But still, if Rithmere is to the left along this road, it is on our way to the Shifting Sands. And a town is what we need — the larger the better.”

“Why?” hissed Jasmine, who far preferred the open countryside.

“In a town we can lose ourselves in the crowd and earn money for new supplies. Or beg for it.”

“
Beg?
” exclaimed Lief, horrified.

Barda glanced at him, a grim smile tweaking the corner of his mouth. “There are times when pride must be put aside in a good cause,” he said.

Lief mumbled an apology. How could he have forgotten that Barda had spent years disguised as a beggar in Del?

When the cart was well past, the companions crept out from the trees and began to follow it. They had not gone far before Lief saw something lying on the ground.

It was a notice. Curious, he picked it up:

Lief showed the notice to Barda and Jasmine. His heart was thudding with excitement.

“Here is our answer!” he said. “Here is our chance to earn the money we need, and more. We will enter the Games. And we will win!”