Deltora Quest #1: The Forests of Silence (9 page)

I
t was dim inside the circle. The golden arrowheads of the budding Lilies were the only glimmer of warm color. Everything else was dark brown, or dull green.

Lief and Barda stood, helpless, before the knight. They could not move. They could not fight or run.

Gorl raised his sword higher.

I must prepare for death, Lief thought. But he could only think of the Belt around his waist. If he was killed here, the Belt would lie forgotten with his bones. The gems would never be restored to it. The heir to the throne of Deltora would never be found. The land would remain under the Shadow forever.

It must not be! he thought wildly. But what can I do?

Then he heard Barda begin to speak.

“You wear the armor of a knight, Gorl,” Barda said.
“But you are not a true knight. You do not fight your enemies with honor.”

Are things not bad enough, Barda? thought Lief, in terror. Why do you risk making him even more angry than he is?

But Gorl hesitated, his great sword wavering in his hand. “I must protect the Lilies of Life,” he said sullenly. “I knew my destiny the moment I saw their golden nectar dropping from their petals, long ago.”

“But you were not alone when you saw this, were you, Gorl?” Barda demanded, his voice strong and bold. “You would not have come alone on a quest to the Forests of Silence. You had companions.”

He is trying to turn Gorl’s mind from us, Lief thought, suddenly understanding. He hopes that Gorl’s hold over us will weaken, if he begins to think of other things.

“Gorl, what happened to your companions?” Barda demanded.

The knight’s head jerked aside, as if Barda had dealt him a blow. “My companions — my two brothers — ran towards the Lilies,” he muttered. “And …”

“And you killed them!”

Gorl’s voice rose to a loud, high whine. “I had to do it!” he wailed. “I could not share with them! I needed a whole cup of the nectar for myself. They should have known that.”

He lowered his head and began pacing the circle, mumbling to himself. “While my brothers fought me,
trying to save themselves, the Lilies wilted, and the nectar fell to waste in the mud. But I did not despair. The Lilies were mine, and mine alone. All I had to do was wait until they bloomed again.”

Lief’s heart leapt as he felt the iron bands of the knight’s will loosening, letting him move freely again. Barda’s idea was working. Gorl’s mind was now far away from them. He glanced at his companion and saw that Barda was reaching for his sword.

Gorl had his back to them now, and was stroking the leaves and stems of the twisting vines with his armored hand. He seemed almost to have forgotten that anyone was with him. “As the new buds rose from the mud, I raised my wall around them, to protect them from intruders,” he was muttering. “I did my work well. Never would the vines have grown so strong without my care.”

Barda made a silent signal to Lief, and together they began to creep towards Gorl, their swords at the ready. They both knew that they would only have one chance. It could not be a fair fight. They had to take the knight by surprise and kill him, before he could bind them to his will again. Otherwise they were lost, as so many had been lost before them.

Gorl was still talking to himself, stroking the vine leaves. “I have cut the branches from the trees that dared to resist my vines,” he mumbled. “I have fed the vines with the bodies of the enemies — man, woman, bird, or beast — who dared to approach them. And I have kept
my treasures safe. I have waited long for them to bloom. But surely my time has nearly come.”

Barda lunged forward with a mighty shout. His sword found its mark — the thin, dark gap between the knight’s helmet and body armor — and he pushed it home.

But to Lief’s horror, the knight did not fall. With a low growl, he turned, pulling Barda’s sword from the back of his neck and throwing it aside. And then, as Lief cried out in shock and fear, slashing uselessly at his armor, his metal-clad hand darted out like a striking snake, catching Barda by the neck and forcing him to his knees.

“Die, thief!” he hissed. “Die slowly!” And he plunged his sword into Barda’s chest.

“NO!” Lief shouted. Through a red haze of grief and terror, he saw Gorl pull his sword free and kick Barda to the ground with a grunt of contempt. He saw the big man groaning in agony, his life ebbing away into the roots of the vines. And then he saw Gorl turn to him and felt the iron grip of the knight’s will clamp his very bones.

Frozen to the spot, he waited for death as Gorl raised the bloodstained sword again.

And then …

“GORL! GORL!”

From high above them came the cry — as high and wild as a bird’s.

Gorl’s head jerked backwards as he looked up with a growl of startled fury.

Lief, too, looked up, and with a shock saw that it was Jasmine who was calling. She was swinging from the very top of one of the great trees, peering down at them through the gap in the roof of vines. Kree hovered above her head, his black wings spread over her head as if to protect her.

“You have made good into evil in this place, with your jealousy and spite, Gorl!” Jasmine shouted. “You have bound and enslaved the trees and killed the birds — and all to guard something that is not yours!” With her dagger she began slashing at the vines that covered the clearing. Tattered leaves began to fall like green snow.

With a roar of rage Gorl raised his arms. Lief felt his limbs freed as the knight turned all his power upwards — towards the new intruder.

“Run, Lief!” Jasmine shrieked. “To the center! Now!”

There was a great cracking, tearing sound from above. Lief leapt for safety, flinging himself into the mud at the center of the clearing just as the earth behind him shuddered with a mighty crash that echoed like rolling thunder.

For what seemed a long time he lay still, his eyes tightly closed, his head spinning, his heart hammering in his chest. Then at last he became aware of a soft, pattering on his back, and a feeling of warmth. Gasping, he crawled to his knees and turned.

His eyes, so long accustomed to the dimness, squinted against the bright sunlight that poured into the
clearing from the open sky above. The roof of vines had been torn through, and leaves and stems still pattered down like rain. Where he and Gorl had stood together only minutes before lay the reason for the damage — a great fallen branch. And beneath the branch was a mass of crushed golden armor.

Lief stared, unable to believe what had happened so suddenly. The Belt grew hot against his skin. He looked down and saw Gorl’s sword, lying right in front of him. Almost absent-mindedly, he picked it up. The topaz in the hilt shone clear gold. So, he thought dreamily, the first gem to be found was the topaz — the symbol of faithfulness.

Suddenly his mind cleared. His eyes searched for, and then found, the still, pale figure of Barda, lying at the edge of the clearing. He jumped up and ran to him, kneeling down beside him, calling his name.

Barda did not stir. He still breathed, but very weakly. The terrible wound in his chest was still bleeding. Lief opened the jacket and shirt, tried to clean the wound, tried to stop the blood with his cloak. He had to do something. But he knew it was useless. It was too late.

He barely looked up as Jasmine leapt lightly down beside him. “Barda is dying,” he said drearily. There was a terrible pain in his chest. A terrible sense of loss and loneliness and waste.

“Lief!” he heard Jasmine gasp. But still he did not move.

“Lief! Look!” She was pulling at his arm. Reluctantly he raised his head.

Jasmine was staring at the center of the clearing. Her face was filled with awe. Lief spun around to see what she was looking at.

The Lilies of Life were blooming. The golden arrows that were their buds had opened in the sunlight so long denied them. Now they were golden trumpets, their petals spread joyously, drinking in the light. And from the center of the trumpets a rich gold nectar was welling, overflowing, pouring in a sweet-smelling stream down to the black mud.

W
ith a cry, Lief threw down the sword and leapt up. He ran to the patch of mud and thrust his cupped hands under the nectar flow. When they were full to the brim he ran back to Barda, pouring the nectar onto the wound in his chest, smearing what was left on his pale lips.

Then he waited breathlessly. One minute passed. Two —

“Perhaps he has gone too far away already,” Jasmine murmured.

“Barda!” Lief begged. “Come back! Come back!”

The big man’s eyelids fluttered. His eyes opened. They were dazed, as though he had been dreaming. “What — is it?” he mumbled. As color began to steal back into his cheeks, his hand fumbled towards the wound on his chest. He licked his lips. “Hurts,” he said.

“But the cut is healing!” Jasmine hissed in wonder. “See? It is closing of itself! Never have I seen such a thing.”

Overjoyed, Lief saw that indeed the wound was repairing itself. Already it was just a raw, red scar. And as he watched the scar itself began to fade, till it was nothing but a thin white line.

“Barda! You are well!” he shouted.

“Of course I am!” With a grunt, Barda sat up, running his hands through his tangled hair. He stared around, astounded, but quite himself again. “What happened?” he demanded, climbing to his feet. “Did I faint? Where is Gorl?”

Lief pointed wordlessly at the crumpled armor beneath the fallen branch. Barda strode over to the branch, frowning.

“This is his armor,” he said, kicking at it. “But there is no body inside it.”

“I think Gorl’s body crumbled to dust long ago,” Lief said. “All that was left inside that armor shell was darkness and … will. But once the armor was destroyed, even that will could not survive. It could not survive in the light.”

Barda grimaced with distaste. He looked up. “So a tree branch fell and finished him,” he said. “That was a piece of luck.”

“It was not luck!” exclaimed Jasmine indignantly. “I told the tallest tree what must be done, and at last it listened. I promised that it and the others would be rid
of the vines, if it did what I asked. The sacrifice of one limb was small in return for freedom.”

Barda’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief, but Lief put a warning hand on his arm. “Believe me, what Jasmine says is true,” he said. “She saved both our lives.”

“
You
saved Barda’s life.” Jasmine objected again. “The sun made the Lilies bloom, and —”

She broke off and turned quickly to look at the Lilies of Life. Lief looked, too, and saw that already they were fading. Only a few drops of nectar still dropped from their wilting petals.

Jasmine rapidly pulled at a chain that hung around her neck, bringing out from under her clothes a tiny white jar capped with silver. She ran to the patch of mud and held the jar under the nectar flow so that the last few golden drops dripped into it. Then she watched as the Lilies bent their heads and slowly collapsed into the mud.

“Who knows how long it will be till they bloom again,” she said calmly, when at last she moved back to the others. “But at least they
will
bloom, because the sun will shine on them after this. And in the meantime, I have at least some of the nectar. It is indeed a great prize.”

“Will you drink of it, and live forever?” asked Lief. But he smiled, for he already knew the answer.

Jasmine tossed her head. “Only a fool would want such a thing,” she snorted. “And these few drops would not do the work in any case, according to Gorl. But the
nectar will still be useful — as we have proved already today.”

“How?” asked Barda, bewildered.

“It brought you back from the brink of death, as it happens,” Lief murmured. “I will tell you. But first …”

He picked up Gorl’s sword. The giant topaz seemed to wink, then fell cleanly from the hilt of the sword into his hand. He laughed joyously as he held it up and the sunbeams lit its yellow surface, turning it to gold.

“What is it?” exclaimed Jasmine. “Is this what you have been seeking?”

Lief realized, too late, that in his excitement he had betrayed their secret. He saw Barda grimace, then nod slightly.
Tell her a little but not all
, Barda’s nod said.

“It is a topaz, symbol of faithfulness.” Lief put the gem into Jasmine’s eager hand.

“Some say that a topaz can —” Barda began.

He broke off, startled. The clearing had abruptly dimmed, as though the sun had gone behind a cloud. At the same moment a thick, billowing mist began to form. Kree screeched, Filli chattered nervously. The three companions froze.

Out of the mist, a wavering white figure appeared. It was a woman, sweet-faced and smiling.

“It is a spirit,” breathed Barda. “The topaz …”

The mist swirled. Then there was a voice.

“Jasmine!” the voice called. “Jasmine, my dearest!”

Lief looked quickly at Jasmine. The girl was standing rigidly, holding the topaz out in front of her. Her face was as white as the mist itself. Her lips moved as she stared at the figure before her. “Mama!” she breathed. “Is — is it you?
Can
it be you?”

“Yes, Jasmine. How wonderful it is to be able to speak to you at last. Jasmine — listen to me carefully. I do not have much time. You have done well, very well, since your father and I were taken from you. But now you must do more.”

“What?” Jasmine whispered. “What, Mama?”

The spirit stretched out her hands. “The boy Lief and the man Barda are friends, and their quest is just,” she said, her voice as soft as the sighing of the wind. “It is a quest that will free our land from the Shadow Lord. But they still have much to do, and far to travel. You must join them — leave the Forests and go with them — and help them as much as you are able. It is your destiny. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Jasmine whispered. “But Mama —”

“I must leave you now,” breathed the sighing voice. “But I will be watching over you, as I always have, Jasmine. And I love you, as I have always done. Be of good heart, my dearest.”

Jasmine stood, motionless, as the mist slowly disappeared. When she turned to Lief and handed the topaz back to him, her eyes were wet with tears. “What is this magic?” she hissed, almost angrily. “What is this stone, that it can show my mother to me?”

“It is said that the topaz has the power to bring the living into contact with the spirit world,” Barda said gruffly. “I did not believe it, but —”

“So, my mother is dead,” Jasmine murmured. “I thought it was so — I felt it. But still I hoped …” Her lips tightened. Then she took a deep breath, raised her chin, and looked at them squarely.

“It seems I am to go with you when you leave here,” she said. “If you will have me.” She put up her hand to the small, furry creature clinging to her shoulder. “But I could not leave Filli behind. And Kree goes everywhere I go. That would have to be understood.”

“Of course!” Lief exclaimed. Then, suddenly realizing that he was not the only one who had to agree, he glanced quickly at Barda. His heart sank when he saw that Barda was slowly shaking his head. But then Barda spoke.

“I must be growing old,” he sighed. “Or perhaps I cracked my skull when I fell. Things are moving too fast for me.” Slowly a grin spread over his face. “But not so fast that I cannot recognize a good idea when I hear one,” he added.

He put his strong hand on Lief’s shoulder and turned to Jasmine. “I did not want Lief with me when we began — I confess it,” he said cheerfully. “But if he had stayed at home, as I wished, I would by now be dead, and the quest lost. I will not make the mistake a second time. If Fate has decreed that we are to be three, so be it.”

The Belt burned around Lief’s waist. He unfastened it, laying it on the ground before him. He crouched over it and fitted the topaz into the first medallion. It slid into place and glowed there, as pure and golden as the nectar of the Lilies of Life, as warm and golden as the sun.

Jasmine stared curiously at the Belt. “There are seven medallions,” she pointed out. “Six are still empty.”

“But one is filled,” said Lief with satisfaction.

“The longest journey begins with the first step,” said Barda. “And the first step we have taken. Whatever the next may bring, we have cause to celebrate now.”

“I am going to celebrate by beginning to rid the trees of these accursed vines,” Lief said, putting his hand to his sword.

But Jasmine smiled. “There is no need,” she said. “The word has spread that The Dark is no more.”

She pointed upwards and, to his amazement, Lief saw that the vine-shrouded trees were thick with birds. He had not heard them because they were too busy to call or sing. They were gladly tearing at the vines with their beaks and claws, working furiously. And more birds were coming every moment — birds of every kind.

“The beasts are on their way,” Jasmine murmured. “The little gnawing creatures that like roots and stems. They will be here within the hour and they, too, will relish the vines. In a day or two the trees will be free.”

The three stood for a moment, watching the amazing scene above them. Already some branches were clear
of vines. No longer bound and weighed down, they were stretching gladly towards the sky.

“This must have been a beautiful place, once,” Lief said softly.

“And will be again,” Jasmine murmured. “Because of you. It was fortunate that you came here.”

Barda grinned. “I must confess that for a while I doubted it,” he said. “But all has ended well. Very well.” He stretched his great arms wearily. “We should stay a day or two, I think. To rest, and eat, and watch the freeing of the trees.”

“And then?” Jasmine asked. “What then?”

“And then,” Barda said simply, “we will go on.”

Lief slowly clipped the Belt around his waist once more. His heart was very full. He felt wonder and a kind of triumph when he thought of what had just passed. He felt excitement, eagerness, and a thrill of fear at the thought of what was ahead.

But most of all he felt relief, and a deep, deep happiness.

The first gem had been found.

The quest to save Deltora had truly begun.