Deltora Quest #5: Dread Mountain (5 page)

T
he travellers set off again an hour before dawn, Ailsa, Bruna, and Merin leaping from the top of the waterfall to sail through a narrow valley and up into the skies once more. Now they were flying very fast. Their time at Kinrest seemed to have filled them with new energy.

“It is the stream water,” Ailsa called to Lief. “For the first time in many years I slept without dreaming — or, at least, without the special dreams the spring gives. This morning I feel like a young one again.”

“I too,” called Bruna, who was flying beside them. “Though I did stir for a moment in the night. I thought I felt the tribe near. It seemed to me that they were trying to tell me something. But of course I could see and hear nothing, and the feeling soon passed.”

She and Ailsa spoke no more, but Lief, watching Dread Mountain growing larger on the horizon, felt
worried. The Kin must have tried very hard to communicate with Bruna, for her to sense their presence. Could they have had news they needed to tell? Alarming news?

He closed his eyes and tried to force himself to relax. He would find out all too soon what Dread Mountain had in store.

By midday the Mountain was looming in front of them — a vast, dark mass filling their view. Its jagged surface was thick with cruel rocks and prickly dark green trees. Clouds were gathering around its peak. A road wound away from its base, disappearing into the range of peaks beyond. The road to the Shadowlands, Lief thought, his stomach churning.

It was impossible to see through the leaves of the thickly clustered trees. Even now the gnomes could have sighted them. They could be hiding, deadly arrows aimed, waiting for the three Kin to come within range. Lief’s eyes strained for a glimpse of metal glinting, any sign of movement. He could see nothing, but still he feared.

“This is the dangerous time,” Ailsa called to him. “I must begin making it harder for the gnomes to take aim. I was taught to do this long ago, but it is not something you forget. Hold tight!”

She began swooping and wheeling, zooming upward, dropping again. Gasping, holding on for dear
life, Lief saw that Merin and Bruna were following Ailsa’s lead, making the same sudden movements.

And just in time. Moments later, the first arrow sped towards them, just missing Ailsa. A faint chorus of shrill cries sounded from below. Lief looked down, and his skin crawled. Suddenly the rocks were covered by pale-skinned, hollow-eyed creatures, every one with a fiercely grinning face and a drawn bow. Suddenly hundreds of arrows were hurtling towards them like deadly, upward-flying rain.

Left, right, up, down swooped Ailsa, dodging and swerving but all the time moving forward. Closer they came to the Mountain, and closer, till it seemed that the tops of the trees were rushing to meet them, till it seemed that surely one of the arrows must find its mark.

“All the gnomes are up high, near their stronghold!” Bruna cried. “Land lower down, Kin, lower, where the Boolong trees are thickest. They will not venture there.”

The air was filled with the gnomes’ high, gobbling shrieks and the soft grunts of the Kin as they threw their huge bodies this way and that. Lief could hear Ailsa’s heart pounding, and, faintly, the shouts of Barda and Jasmine, urging Merin and Bruna on.

“Cover your face!” bellowed Ailsa. And with a crash they hit the treetops, smashing through leaves and branches, shattering all in their path to the ground.

“Lief, are you all right?”

Stiffly, Lief uncovered his face and blinked into Ailsa’s dark, anxious eyes. He swallowed. “I am very well, thank you,” he croaked. “As well as anyone can be who has just crashed through a thorn tree.”

Ailsa nodded solemnly. “It was not my best landing,” she agreed. “But there are no gaps in the Boolongs here. That is why we are safe from the gnomes. They do not like the thorns.”

“I do not love them myself,” grunted Barda, who was sitting on the ground beside Jasmine, inspecting several wicked-looking scratches on the backs of his hands. He hauled himself to his feet, went to a narrow stream that gurgled nearby, and began bathing the wounds.

Merin and Bruna had plunged into the thick of the gnarled trees that overhung the trickling water. They were joyously pulling hard little black cones from the clusters of prickly leaves that grew all over the twisted trunks, and crunching them as though they were sweets.

“So these are Boolong trees,” Barda went on. “I cannot say I find them pleasing. I have never seen such spines.”

“They do not hurt us,” said Ailsa. She picked a few clinging leaves from her velvety fur, popped them into her mouth, and chewed with relish, despite the long, needle-sharp thorns at their edges.

“When we lived here there were not so many Boolong trees, and there were many paths winding through them,” she went on, with her mouth full. “The streams were wide, and there were clearings everywhere. Without us to feed on them, the Boolongs have grown and spread wonderfully. The cones are full of seed, of course. That is what makes them so tasty!”

Above, there was the rumble of thunder. Ailsa stopped chewing and sniffed the air. Then she hurried over to where Merin and Bruna were still thrashing around, feasting. “We must go!” the companions heard her calling. “A storm is coming. Fill your pouches with cones. We will take them home for the others.”

Jasmine shook her head. “The gnomes must have the gem. But I do not know how we are to climb to their stronghold through this thorn forest,” she muttered. “We will be cut to pieces if we try. We can only sit here now because the Kin smashed a clearing when they landed.”

“Perhaps we could clear a path with fire,” Lief suggested.

Kree squawked, Filli chattered nervously, and Jasmine shook her head.

“That would be far too dangerous,” she said. “We could never control a fire in woods as thick as these. The blaze could easily burn us all.”

The three Kin came towards them, their pouches bulging with cones and bundles of thorny leaves. They looked as though they had been arguing.

“We came to say farewell,” Ailsa said. “We must leave now, so as to be away before the storm breaks. Storms here are fierce and can last for days.”

“We should not leave our friends alone so soon!” Merin exclaimed. “There is too much they do not know.”

Bruna’s whiskers twitched crossly. “Merin, we promised Crenn that we would return as quickly as possible. And if we are marooned here —”

“We would not be marooned!” Merin exclaimed. “This is our place. This is where we should be, for always. I see that, now that I am here.” Her eyes were bright with excitement. “We should stay, and the others can join us. The gnomes cannot touch us here, in the lower part of the Mountain.”

“Merin, we landed safely by a miracle,” Ailsa sighed. “Do you want our friends to take that risk? How many do you think would survive?”

“And even if only half did so,” Bruna put in, “the Boolong trees would be eaten back to normal in a few years. Then the paths would be open once more, the gnomes would come back, and the slaughter would start again.”

Merin hung her head. “It is cruel,” she whispered. But Lief, Barda, and Jasmine could see that she knew her friends were right.

Overhead, the thunder growled. Ailsa glanced nervously at the sky. “There is a big outcrop of rock not far from here,” she said rapidly. “I saw it as we landed. It
will be quickest if we take off from there. It will be heavy work, but I think we are all strong enough to do it.”

With Lief, Barda, and Jasmine following, the three Kin pushed a track up through the Boolong trees. Soon they had reached the rocks and were looking out at open sky. Dark clouds had rolled in from the south.

“The clouds will hide us, once we are safely inside them,” Ailsa said. “And if I am right the gnomes will not be looking down here. They will be watching higher up, hoping for more of us to arrive.”

“Farewell, then, good Kin,” said Barda. “We cannot thank you enough for what you have done for us.”

“There is no need for thanks,” Bruna answered simply. “All of us are richer for seeing our home again — even for this little time. All we ask is that you take care so that one day we may see you again.”

The three bent, touching their heads to Lief’s, Barda’s, and Jasmine’s foreheads. Then they turned, spread their wings, and sprang for the sky.

For a few tense moments, wings beating frantically, they struggled just to stop themselves from crashing back down to earth. The companions watched in breathless silence, sure that at any moment the gnomes would hear the wing beats, look down, fire …

But all was well. There were no shouts, no arrows shooting from above, as the Kin at last steadied and began moving forward. Their outlines grew fainter as the clouds closed in around them. Then they were gone.

Barda turned away with a sigh of relief and began scrambling back down the rocks. Lief was about to follow when he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. He looked up and to his amazement saw a dark shape emerging unsteadily from the clouds above their heads.

“One of the Kin is returning!” he breathed. “But why so high? Oh, no!”

All of them stared up, aghast, at the Kin blundering into view right in the gnomes’ firing line. It was not Ailsa, Bruna, or Merin. It was …

“Prin!” hissed Lief in terror.

The little Kin caught sight of the patch of broken trees that marked the others’ landing place. She began flying towards it, stubby wings flapping weakly. The next moment there was a high, triumphant shriek and a gale of laughter from further up the Mountain, something was hurtling through the air, and Prin was falling, falling, with an arrow in her chest.

C
rying out in horror, Lief, Barda, and Jasmine leaped from the rock and pounded down to the clearing. Prin was struggling feebly on the ground by the stream. Her wings were crumpled beneath her and she was making small, piteous sounds. Her eyes were glazed with pain.

The arrow that had pierced her chest had already fallen out. The wound it had left was small. But the poison the arrow carried had acted swiftly, and its terrible work was nearly done. Prin’s agonized eyes closed.

“Foolish child!” groaned Barda. “Jasmine, the —”

“The nectar —” cried Lief at the same moment. But Jasmine was already tearing the tiny jar from around her neck and tipping it over the little Kin’s chest. The last golden drops of the nectar of the Lilies of Life fell into the wound. Three drops — no more.

“If this is not enough, there is nothing more we can do,” Jasmine muttered, shaking the jar to show that it was empty. She ground her teeth in anger. “Oh, what did they suppose they would gain, shooting at her? They knew she must fall down here, where they could not get to her. Do they kill just for enjoyment?”

“It seems they do,” said Barda. “Did you not hear them laughing?”

Lief cradled Prin’s head in his arms, calling her back to life as once he had called Barda in the Forests of Silence. As Jasmine had called Kree on the way to the Lake of Tears. As Lief himself had been called in the City of the Rats. The nectar that Jasmine had caught as it dripped from the blooming Lilies of Life so long ago had saved three lives. Would it save another?

Prin stirred. Lief held his breath as the small wound on her chest began to close up and disappear. Her eyes opened. She blinked, looking up at Lief in surprise.

“Did I fall?” she asked.

“Prin, what are you
doing
here?” thundered Lief.

He saw her shrink back and cursed himself, realizing that he had fallen into the trap of letting fear and relief make him angry. Barda had done this not so long ago, in the Shifting Sands, and Lief had resolved that he would never do the same. So much for resolutions, he thought grimly.

“I am sorry, Prin,” he said in a gentler voice. “I did not mean to shout. But we have been so afraid for you. Have you flown all this way alone?”

Prin nodded, still eyeing him warily. “I followed you,” she said. “I could not bear to miss my only chance to see the Mountain.”

She looked around the clearing, drinking in the sight. Her voice was growing stronger by the moment. “I slept near you at Kinrest, and you never knew,” she went on gleefully. “But today the others flew so fast that I fell behind. I was so, so tired. And then the clouds came, and I was lost. Then —”

Her eyes widened in sudden terror. She clutched at her chest. Then she looked down and gasped as she saw that there was no wound to be seen.

“I thought I was hurt,” she whispered. “But — it must have been a dream.”

The companions glanced at one another. “It was no dream,” said Lief gently. “You were wounded. But we had — a potion that made you well again.”

“You should not have come, Prin,” growled Barda. “What would your tribe do if they lost you, their only young one?”

“I knew I would not be lost,” said Prin confidently. She clambered to her feet and looked around. “Where is Ailsa?” she asked, bouncing up and down. “And Merin, and Bruna? They will be very surprised to see me! They did not think I could fly so far.”

Without waiting for an answer she jumped across the stream and began thrashing around in the trees on the other side, calling.

“She does not realize they have gone,” Barda muttered to Lief and Jasmine. “No doubt she expected to return home with them. She will never find her way back alone. Whatever are we to do with her?”

“She will have to come with us,” Jasmine said calmly.

“But it is too dangerous!” Lief exclaimed.

Jasmine shrugged. “She chose to come here. She must put up with what happens as a result. The Kin spoil her, and treat her as a baby. But she is not a baby. She is young, but not helpless. She can be useful to us.”

She nodded over to where Prin was dancing in the stream, breaking off cones and leaves from the overhanging Boolong trees and eating ravenously. Already the little Kin had cleared a broad space among the prickles.

“You see? She can help us make a path,” Jasmine said. “If we follow the stream —”

“It is out of the question,” Barda broke in firmly. “I refuse to be burdened by another wilful child who has more energy than sense. Two are quite enough!”

Lief did not take offense at the grim joke as once he would have done, but he did not smile either. The idea of taking Prin up the Mountain was as unpleasing to him as it was to Barda.

Thunder growled above their heads. It had grown very dim in the clearing. The air was thick and heavy.

“Our first task must be to find some shelter,” Jasmine said. “The storm —” Suddenly she stiffened, her head on one side. She was listening intently.

“What …?” Lief began softly. Then he realized that the sound of the stream had become louder. It was rising every moment. In seconds it was as though water was rushing towards the clearing. A flood? he thought, confused. But there has been no rain yet, and in any case the sound is coming from downhill. How —?

Then he forgot everything as he saw Prin standing quite still in the middle of the stream, staring, startled, in the direction of the rushing sound.

“Prin!” he shouted. “Get out! Get out!”

Prin squeaked and half-flew, half-sprang, out of the water and onto the bank. At the same moment there was a roar, and a huge, glistening man-shaped horror came leaping into view, landing exactly where the little Kin had been standing and missing her by a hair. Growling in anger at having been cheated of its prize, the thing swung around, raising its ghastly head.

“Vraal!” Prin shrieked, her voice cracking in terror as she stumbled backwards away from the stream. “Vraal!”

Lief’s blood ran cold as he grabbed for his sword. The Vraal’s snakelike scales, dull green striped with
yellow, shone evilly in the weak forest light. It was as tall as Barda and twice as wide, with hulking, bowed shoulders, a lashing tail, and powerful arms that ended in claws like curved knives. But the most horrible thing about it was that it seemed to have no face — just a lumpy, scaly mass of flesh, with no eyes, nose, or mouth.

Then it roared. The mass seemed to split in half like an exploding fruit as its jaws gaped red. At the same moment its eyes became visible — burning orange slits glaring through protective ridges and folds. It leaped from the stream, landing on the bank in a single movement.

Now Lief could see that instead of feet it had cloven hoofs that dug deeply into the soft, damp earth. They seemed too delicate to support such a huge body, but as it roared again and sprang forward, Lief put this thought out of his mind.

The creature was a killing machine. That was clear as day. It took no notice of the thunder that rumbled above the trees. Its evil eyes were fixed on Prin.

“Prin! Down!” roared Barda’s voice. Terrified into instant obedience, Prin threw herself to the ground as a blister flew above her head towards the Vraal. Barda had hurled the weapon with all his strength, but the creature leaped aside with astounding speed and the blister smashed harmlessly into a tree, the poison inside hissing as it trickled to the ground.

Cursing, Barda threw another blister — the last he had, Lief saw in terror. The big man’s aim was true, but
again the creature leaped aside just in time, its hoofs digging great holes in the earth, landing firmly in another place. A place away from Prin, but closer to Barda.

Lief saw Prin scramble away and roll into the stream. She would not be safe there! He wanted to call to her to run, but did not want to turn the creature’s attention to her. Then, as he hesitated, he realized that the Vraal had forgotten all about the little Kin. Its orange eyes were burning as it turned to face the man it now saw as its chief enemy. The man who had tried to kill it with Grey Guards’ poison. The man who now stood facing it, sword drawn.

The creature’s lipless mouth stretched in a hideous grin and it hissed as it stretched out its claws, daring Barda to fight.