Return to Deltora

The Belt of Deltora was complete. Seven gems glowed once more in its gleaming medallions of steel. It was perfect. And yet …

Lief glanced at Barda and Jasmine, walking with him through the sunlit beauty of what had been the Valley of the Lost. In the blue sky above them, Kree sailed on the wind with others of his kind. Many birds had returned to the valley since the evil mist had lifted, the exiled people of Tora had been freed from their living death, and the evil Guardian had returned to his old character of the hermit Fardeep.

The three companions had triumphed. But now they had to face the fact that unless they found the heir to Deltora’s throne all their efforts would have been in vain. They had believed that the Belt would lead them to the heir. But so far there had been no sign.

Sighing, Lief flipped open the little blue book he carried. This copy of The Belt of Deltora was one of the few things that had survived the destruction of the Guardian’s palace. And why? Lief thought. Why, unless it holds the key? He stared again at the words he had read so often.

† Each gem has its own magic, but together the seven make a spell that is far more powerful than the sum of its parts. Only the Belt of Deltora, complete as it was first fashioned by Adin and worn by Adin’s true heir, has the power to defeat the Enemy.

“Reading the words again will not change them, Lief,” muttered Jasmine. “We must find the heir — and soon!” She plucked a berry and gave it to Filli. Many little furred creatures now thronged the valley. But all were larger than little Filli, who stayed shyly on Jasmine’s shoulder, peering around with wondering eyes.

“If only we knew where to look!” Barda moved restlessly. “We cannot remain here any longer, waiting for a sign. At any moment —” He looked up, and his brow creased in a sudden frown. Lief, too, looked up, and was startled to see that where only moments before there had been clear blue, a swirling mist was gathering. The birds were wheeling, screeching …

Sharply, Jasmine called Kree, who broke away from the flock and came hurtling down towards her. At the same moment, Lief saw Fardeep approaching. Two Torans were with him: Peel, a tall, bearded man, and Zeean, a straight-backed old woman in a scarlet robe.

“Do not fear!” Fardeep called. “The Torans are weaving a veil of cloud to shroud the valley once more. The Shadow Lord must not discover that we are free.”

“But what of the creatures?” Jasmine exclaimed.

“Our mist will not harm them, little one,” smiled Zeean. “It is soft and sweet. Now that our magic has returned, we can do many things.”

“Except the thing we want most,” Peel said soberly. “Except return to Tora.”

“Indeed.” Zeean’s eyes turned to Lief, Barda, and Jasmine. “And yet,” she murmured. “I have hopes …”

Lief glanced quickly at Fardeep.

“Fardeep has said nothing, Lief,” Zeean said. “But we remember what we saw just before the valley changed. You are carrying a precious thing — a thing that could save us all. Yet you are troubled. We can feel it. Can we not help?”

Lief hesitated. The habit of secrecy was strong. But perhaps, indeed, the Torans could help. Barda and Jasmine stirred beside him and he knew that they, too, felt the impulse to trust.

“Be aware,” Zeean said softly, “that to tell one Toran is to tell all. We have no secrets from one another. But this is our strength. Between us we have much knowledge, and our memories are long.”

Lief touched the Belt, heavy under his shirt. But before he could say a word, Zeean and Peel stiffened. “Strangers are entering the valley!” Peel hissed. “Walking quickly, along the stream.”

“Friends?” Fardeep asked urgently.

Zeean shook her head, puzzled. “We cannot tell. Shape-changers — Ols — we can usually sense. Others of evil will also. But these minds are closed to us.”

The light dimmed as the mist thickened. Lief made a decision. “We will go to meet them,” he said. “And, on our way, we will talk.”

And so it was that, walking in the greenness of the valley floor, the companions told the secret they had kept for so long. It was strange to speak the words aloud. But Lief felt no fear as the Torans drank in the sight of the Belt.

“The amethyst,” Zeean whispered, gently touching the purple gem. “The Toran stone, symbol of truth.”

“The Toran stone?” exclaimed Jasmine. “What do you mean?”

“Why, the Torans were one of the seven tribes who gave their talismans to Adin when the Belt of Deltora was first made,” Zeean said.

“No doubt that is why the amethyst was in the Maze of the Beast, so near to Tora,” Peel added. “Once taken from the Belt, the gem yearned to return to its first place. As far as it could, it bent to its will the Ak-Baba which carried it. Perhaps —”

Two people rounded a bend in the stream ahead. One gave a cry, and broke into a run. Startled, Lief saw it was Dain, and that the man with him was Doom.

“Dain!” Doom bellowed. Dain glanced behind him guiltily, and his flying feet stumbled and slowed.

“Why, this boy looks very like one of us,” Zeean murmured. “His hair — his eyes …”

“Dain’s mother is of Toran blood,” Lief told her. “His parents were taken by the Grey Guards a year ago. Now he works with Doom, in the Resistance.”

Both of the visitors were now standing quite still. Doom glanced at the cloud above his head.

“All is well, Doom,” Fardeep called. “Your friends here are safe. The mist is only for our protection.”

Warily, Doom moved closer. He searched Fardeep’s face, and his own face darkened. “You!” he snarled, reaching for his sword.

“No!” Lief exclaimed. “Doom, this is Fardeep. He is no longer the Guardian. No enemy of ours, or of yours.”

For the first time since Lief had known him, Doom looked baffled. “You have much to explain!” he muttered.

“As you do,” said Barda harshly. “Why did you keep your knowledge of this place from us?”

“I warned you against the Valley of the Lost with all my strength!” Doom growled, recovering a little. “Would it have helped if I had told you I had visited it myself? No! You would have decided that if I could escape its dangers, so could you.”

“Perhaps,” snapped Jasmine. “But you take your wretched love of secrecy too far, Doom! Why did you not say that you believed the Guardian was King Endon?”

Ignoring Dain’s gasp of horror, Doom smiled grimly. “Even I have some fine feelings. When I left this accursed valley I swore that never from my lips would my people learn what their king had become. They had suffered enough. Far better, I thought, to let them believe he was dead.”

“You played into the Shadow Lord’s hands, then,” said Lief quietly. “He wants the king forgotten, so his own hold over Deltora can never be broken.”

Doom flinched, as though he had received a blow. Slowly he rubbed his brow with the back of his hand, hiding his eyes. Dain was staring straight ahead, his face quite expressionless. But it seemed to Lief that behind the calm mask many different feelings were struggling.

After a long moment, Doom dropped his hand and looked straight at Lief, Barda, and Jasmine. “I believe I know why you came here,” he said. “Am I to understand that you succeeded in your quest?”

The companions remained silent.

A shadow crossed Doom’s face. “Perhaps you are wise not to trust me,” he said bitterly. “Perhaps, in your place, I, too, would keep silence.” He turned away. “Come, Dain,” he said to the boy standing rigidly beside him. “We are not needed here. Or wanted, it seems.”

Zeean stirred. “Wait!” she cried.

Doom swung around, unsmiling.

“We cannot afford suspicion and rivalry now,” the woman said, standing very straight. “United, we drove the Shadow Lord and his abominable hordes from our lands in the time of Adin. United, we can do it now.”

She turned to Lief, Barda, and Jasmine. “The time for secrecy between friends is past,” she said firmly. “You are hunted, and you do not know what your next step should be. We need the talents and experience of all who share our cause. Now, at last, it is time to trust.”

They returned to the clearing beside Fardeep’s hut. There, while bees hummed among the flowers and the sun sank in the sky, the story was told once more. When, at last, Lief showed the Belt, Dain gasped and shrank back, trembling. “I knew that you had some mighty aim,” he whispered, “I knew it!”

But Lief was watching Doom. The man’s face had not changed. What was he thinking?

“Some of what you have told us I had already guessed,” Doom muttered at last. “No one who has travelled this land as I have done could have failed to hear the legend of the lost Belt of Deltora. I came to believe that you were seeking it — but whether for reasons of good or ill, I did not know.”

His mouth tightened. “Now I regret my suspicion that you were working against our cause. But —” He ran his lean brown hands through his tangled hair. “Can it be true that this — this legend made real — can help Deltora? Perhaps, long ago, in the years that are dark to me, I would have accepted such a tale. But as it is —”

“You must believe!” Jasmine burst out. “The Shadow Lord himself fears the Belt. That is why the gems were taken and hidden in the first place!”

Doom regarded her thoughtfully. “How many gems does the Shadow Lord know you have?” he asked.

“We have strong hopes that he thinks we are still to reach Dread Mountain, the Maze of the Beast, and this valley,” Lief answered.

“Hopes are no basis for planning,” said Doom curtly.

Lief felt a prickle of irritation. He was not alone.

“We are as aware of that as you, Doom!” exclaimed Jasmine angrily. “No one would welcome certain knowledge more than we would!”

Looking from one to the other, Zeean sighed, and rose. “Let us rest, now,” she said. “In the morning, our minds will be clearer.”

As she and Peel quietly left the clearing, Doom shrugged and strode off to where his belongings lay. Dain hurried after him. Fardeep wandered back to his hut to begin preparing food.

“Doom is an uncomfortable ally,” Barda muttered. “But he is right in wanting facts, rather than hope.”

“Then we will give him facts!” Jasmine snapped. “Lief must use the last of the water from the Dreaming Spring.”

Lief nodded slowly. They had been saving the water for when they really needed it, but surely that time had arrived. If he visited his imprisoned father again, the evil Fallow might come to the cell. Then Lief could learn how much the Shadow Lord knew. But what if Fallow did not come?

Lief’s heart sank as he saw what must be done. He could not risk visiting his father or mother. Instead, he must use the magic water to spy on Fallow himself.