Deltora Quest #7: The Valley of the Lost (3 page)

S
tillness. Silence. Pink light through closed eyelids. Lief woke in confusion. Lay still in fear. The last thing he remembered was the boat crashing against something, spinning around, then continuing its mad, swirling dash into darkness.

Did I fall asleep? he thought. How could that be?

But he
had
slept, or else fainted. That much was clear. For here he was, waking. The rain had stopped. The terrible night had passed.

Or — was this death? This light, peaceful drifting — was it how all the struggle ended?

He opened his eyes. The sky was pink above him. Dawn.

Slowly he sat up. Before him was a lake — a huge lake, smooth as glass. Jasmine slept beside him, her cheek on the hard boards of a bench, Kree standing guard beside her. Barda lay not far away, breathing
steadily. And Dain — Dain was sitting in the bow, his dark eyes filled with wonder.

Lief wet his lips. “Where are we?” he heard himself ask huskily. “What happened?”

“We hit something — a sandbar, I think, made by the flood,” Dain said slowly. “It must have knocked us into a channel separated from the main river. So we floated here, into the great lake, instead of being swept farther downstream.”

“But there is no lake beside the River Tor!” Lief protested. He shook his head, unable to believe his own eyes. Yet he could see in the distance the broad band of the river moving on to the sea.

“Once, it seems, there was a lake,” said Dain softly. “And now, because of the flood, there is a lake again. Do you not see? These are the reed beds, Lief. Now they are a lake, as once they always were. And now there is no fog to hide what lies at the lake’s edge.”

He pointed. Lief turned. And there, directly behind him, was dry land and a vast shimmer of light.

“It is Tora,” Dain whispered. “Tora.”

Lief narrowed his eyes against the dazzling glare, and finally made out the gleaming shapes of towers, turrets, and walls. In his amazement he thought at first that the buildings themselves were shining, glowing from within by some sort of magic. Then he realized that the shimmer was caused by the rays of the early morning sun striking thousands of hard white surfaces, polished smooth.

He looked away, rubbing his streaming eyes. It was impossible to see the city clearly. And yet, he had seen enough to feel puzzled, as well as filled with awe, at its silent, untouched beauty.

“Tora was carved by magic from a marble mountain,” said Dain. “It is perfect — all of one piece, without crack or seam.”

His voice seemed stronger, deeper. Lief glanced at him, wondering, and saw that he was sitting very upright. As had happened once before since Lief had known him, he suddenly looked older, prouder, and less frail. His mouth was firm. His eyes were shining. It was as though a mask had dropped from his face, leaving it unguarded.

He felt Lief’s gaze and turned away quickly. “Now would be a good time to enter the city,” he said, in his normal voice. “It is very early. Most people will not yet be stirring.”

Without waiting for an answer, he crept gently to the end of the boat, and climbed onto the shore. The boat rocked gently. Jasmine and Barda opened their eyes and sat up, startled.

“It — it is all right,” Lief stammered. “We are safe. The flood has refilled an old lake. And it seems — it seems we have reached Tora.”

As Dain had done, he pointed. And as he himself had done only moments before, Barda and Jasmine turned and blinked into the shimmering light.

“So Tora was on the river after all!” Jasmine exclaimed. “Or, at least, on a lake beside the river.”

“And does Dain think we can walk calmly into the place without being stopped?” muttered Barda. “Tora is controlled by the enemy.”

Lief frowned. “That is what Doom said. But — I am starting to wonder if he was telling the truth. I cannot see the city clearly, but there seem to be no Grey Guards at the gate. No mark of the Shadow Lord on the walls. No damage or destruction or rubbish lying about. And it is so peaceful, Barda. Have you ever known a place overrun by Guards to be so?”

Barda hesitated. Then he rubbed his hand across his dry mouth. “Is it possible?” he whispered. “Can it be that the Torans’ magic has been strong enough to repel even the Shadow Lord’s evil? If so, Lief … if so …”

Lief’s heart was thudding with excitement. “If so, the heir to Deltora may be there. Waiting for us.”

The city lay before them, silent, waiting, cloaked in light. The shore of the lake stretched empty and inviting before them. Yet the moment Lief set foot upon it, his excitement vanished, and he was gripped by fear.

Head bent, he slowly followed Dain, struggling with the fear, trying to understand it. Was it a natural caution, a reluctance to plunge half blinded into a place where, despite appearances, enemies might lurk? Was it fear of the powerful magic of Tora itself?

Or was it because, now that the moment had almost certainly come, he feared to meet the heir of Deltora?

He raised his head and with a shock saw that Dain was almost at the edge of the shore. The lonely figure hesitated for a split second, then stepped forward into dazzling light and disappeared. Lief squinted and rubbed his eyes as again they began to water, blurring his view.

He stumbled forward, pulling his cloak around him to hide his sword. We must not look like enemies, he thought confusedly. We must …

“Lief!” he heard Barda call sharply, and realized that his companions had lost sight of him. Every thread of his cloak was glittering, surrounding him with light. He answered the call and waited. Barda and Jasmine reached him in moments, their arms held over their dazzled eyes.

Together they walked the last few steps to the city’s walls. Gradually they became one with the light, and it no longer blinded them. They reached the shore’s end. Tora rose before them in all its vast splendor.

Tora was carved by magic from a marble mountain. It is all of one piece — perfect, without crack or seam.

They stopped for a moment, awestruck. Then, their hands held out in front of them to show they meant no harm, they moved through the vast white archway that was the city’s entrance.

At once they were swept by a tingling chill. It was like being plunged into a deep bath of cool, clear water.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still, and Lief lost all sense of where he was or what he was supposed to be doing. When he came to himself he realized that his dazzled eyes had deceived him. He had thought that the arch was merely a gateway, but it was much thicker than he had thought. Instead of moving straight into the city, he and his companions were standing in the shade of an echoing tunnel. Smooth whiteness curved around them.

Kree crooned and clucked, swaying slightly on Jasmine’s arm.

“What was that?” Jasmine whispered. “That — feeling?”

Lief shook his head uncertainly. But he was not afraid. In fact, he felt more at peace than he ever remembered being in his life.

Slowly they walked to the end of the tunnel, and emerged at last into the city light.

No robed figures waited to greet them. No Grey Guards jumped, sneering, into their way. The silence was eerie. Their boots echoed on the broad, gleaming street.

Turning to one side, Lief pulled up his shirt and looked at the Belt of Deltora. The ruby glowed as brightly as ever. So they were not in danger yet. But — the emerald!

Lief stared. The emerald had lost all color. It had become as dull and lifeless as it had been when it was possessed by the monster Gellick on Dread Mountain.
What did that mean? Was evil here? Or … he seemed to remember that something else could dull the emerald. What was it?

He and his companions paced on. Halls and houses, towers and palaces, rose, shining, on either side of them. Through tall windows and open doors, rich hangings, silken rugs, and fine furniture could be seen. Everywhere flowers in window boxes bloomed, bright and humming with bees. Fruit trees thrived in huge pots, clustered around courtyards where tables of food and drink stood ready and fountains splashed.

But no one sat by the fountains, tended the trees, or ate the food. No one walked along the streets, or peered from the windows of the houses. No one stood on the silken rugs, or rested in the fine chairs. The city was utterly deserted.

“It is like Where Waters Meet,” whispered Jasmine.

“No,” Barda said grimly. “Where Waters Meet was in ruins. But here — why, it looks as though the people left it only five minutes ago.”

He looked over his shoulder. “How powerful is the Torans’ magic?” he muttered. “Could it be that they have made themselves invisible? And where is Dain?”

Wondering, the hair on the backs of their necks prickling, they moved on through the empty marble streets.

At last, they reached a huge square at the city’s heart, and there at least one of Barda’s questions was answered, for there they found Dain.

Great halls decorated with tall columns surrounded the square. The largest of these stood at the top of a sweeping flight of broad steps. A carved box lay on the top step. It looked out of place — as though it had been brought there for a purpose and then abandoned.

But Dain had not climbed the steps. He was crouched at the foot of a huge piece of marble that rose in the square’s center. Lief knew at once that it was the stone his father had described seeing in the painting at the palace in Del. But no green flames flickered from the stone’s peak. And it was cracked through.

Dain did not move as Lief, Barda, and Jasmine strode towards him. Even when they reached him and spoke his name he did not seem to notice they were there. His eyes, dull and hopeless, were fixed on the stone.

Words were carved on the marble. The jagged crack ran through them like a wound:

L
ief stared at the dead and broken rock, his heart sinking as at last he remembered the words from
The Belt of Deltora
that described the powers of the emerald.

†
The emerald, symbol of honor, dulls in the presence of evil, and when a vow is broken.

He needed no further proof of what had happened. “Tora broke its vow,” he murmured. “But why? Why?”

With a groan of frustration and disappointment, Barda moved away. But Lief and Jasmine could not follow him. Not yet.

Lief put his hand upon Dain’s shoulder. “Get up, Dain,” he said quietly. “There is nothing for you here. Nothing for any of us. Tora is empty. Everything is preserved by enchantment, but it is empty of life. It has been
so, I think, for a very long time. That is why the lake silted up, and the city was cut off from the river.”

But Dain shook his head miserably. “It cannot be,” he whispered. “I have waited so long.” His face was drawn and deeply shadowed. His whole body trembled.

Jasmine knelt beside him. “Dain, why did you have to come to Tora? Tell us the truth!”

Dain’s voice was very low. “I thought my parents were here. Mother told me, always, that if ever we were separated, they would meet me in Tora. She said she had family here, and they would shelter us.”

His fists clenched. “I told Doom this, a year ago, when he found me left for dead by the bandits who attacked our farm. He said to tell no one, because when my parents arrived in Tora they would be in danger if it became known that their son was with the Resistance.”

“How could it become known?” Lief demanded.

“Doom fears there is a spy in our camp. At least — that is what he told me.” Dain looked up at the ruined stone, his eyes bitter. “But he also told me that Tora was filled with spies, and overrun by Grey Guards and Ols. He was lying. All the time he delayed me, making false promises, he knew that the city was deserted, and that my hopes for it were false.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I will never go back to the stronghold. Never.”

He bowed his head and did not raise it again. Lief looked at him. Dimly he realized that at one time he might have been irritated because Dain blamed Doom
for all his troubles. For, after all, Dain had not been Doom’s prisoner. He could at anytime have left the Resistance and travelled to Tora alone.

But Lief did not feel irritated now. Only filled with a calm regret. Briefly he wondered about that.

“Look here!”

Barda’s voice sounded strange. Lief looked up and saw that his friend had climbed the steps of the great hall. Behind him, graceful white columns reached for the sky, but he was looking down, at the open, carved box in his hands.

“Go,” said Jasmine in a low voice. “I will stay here.”

Lief rose, crossed the square, and climbed the steps. Barda held out the box for him to see. Inside were countless small rolls of parchment. Lief picked one out, and unrolled it.

Lief scrambled through the box, picking up other rolls and looking at them. They were all the same, except for the signatures. Some were signed by Queen Lilia, others by King Alton, Endon’s father. Still others bore the name of Endon himself.

“These are like the messages Father showed me,” said Lief dully. “The messages the people of Del received when they sent requests and complaints to the king.”

Barda nodded. “It seems that the Torans also sent requests and complaints, and received the same replies. I imagine that like the people of Del they felt they had been abandoned. So when the last message came …”

He handed Lief two crumpled scraps of paper. “These were in the box also,” he said heavily. “On top of all the rest.”

The scraps were the two halves of a note. Lief fitted the halves together and read the hastily scribbled message.

Lief stared at the note. “Messenger? What messenger?” he stammered.

“A bird, no doubt,” said Barda. “A blackbird like Kree, almost certainly. Once they were plentiful in Del, and in olden times they were always thought of as the King’s birds, because of their cleverness. That is probably why the Sorceress Thaegan so hated them, and relished eating them.”

“The Torans tore the note apart,” breathed Lief. “They refused help, and broke the vow. How could they risk so much?”

Barda shrugged. His face was heavy, grey with disappointment. “The stone in the square dates from the time of Adin. Perhaps the Torans no longer believed in the words. But the ancient magic was still powerful. The moment they tore up the note, they were doomed.”

He looked down at the carved box in his hands. “This was something your father did not count on, Lief. The king and queen left Del in haste, long before any return message could have been expected from Tora. No doubt they thought they would receive word as they travelled, and Toran magic to help them on their way. But the plan failed.”

“So all this time Father has believed that the heir was safe in Tora, waiting for us,” Lief murmured. “That was his secret. He thought we would meet here, and early in our travels, too. Do you remember? His plan was for the Valley of the Lost to be our first goal, not our last.
If it had been, we would surely have passed Tora on our way to the Maze of the Beast.”

He put his hands on the Belt. It gave him courage.

“The plan to hide in Tora may have failed, but somehow Endon and Sharn found another place of safety,” he said. “The Belt is whole. Father told us that means the heir lives, wherever he may be. When the Belt is complete, it will show us the way. Father told us it would. We must believe him.”

He put the two halves of the note back into the carved box, closed the lid firmly, and put the box back on the step.

When he looked up, Barda was frowning, his gaze sweeping around the great square and the buildings that surrounded it, the great columns, the statues of birds and beasts, the carved urns overflowing with flowers. Lief wondered what he was doing. Except for the cracked stone, where Dain still huddled, locked in his private misery, and Jasmine crouched beside him, there was nothing to see.

“If the city is empty, why is it still so perfect and whole, Lief?” Barda asked suddenly. “Why have looters and scavengers not destroyed it? The pirates, the bandits … what has stopped them from plundering this place at their will?”

He pointed at the box. “Even that is a work of art. It would be of great value to a trader. No doubt the city is full of such things. Yet no one has stolen them. Why?”

He spoke softly, but still the square seemed to echo with his voice.

Lief felt a chill run up his spine. “You think Tora is — protected?” he whispered.

“Lief! Barda!” called Jasmine.

Startled, they looked down. Jasmine was still crouching beside Dain. She beckoned urgently, and they ran back down the stairs and across the square to her side.

Dain did not raise his head, though he must have heard them come. Jasmine had wrapped a blanket around him, but still he trembled.

“He will not move,” whispered Jasmine fearfully. “He cannot stop shaking, and will not take any water. I am very afraid for him.”

Dain’s pale lips opened. “Take me away from here, I beg you,” he mumbled. “I cannot bear it. Please — take me away.”