Return to Deltora

Noiselessly, the companions gathered their belongings and stole out of the clearing. In moments they were moving along the stream, towards the valley’s end. They knew that it would be folly to try to escape by climbing. The cliff walls were too steep, too slippery with loose stones.

It was cold and dim under the trees. Everywhere Torans lay sleeping under the shelters they had made.

What will they think when they wake and find us gone? Lief thought. But he and his companions had no choice but to flee. Following Zeean’s well-meaning advice, they had revealed their precious secret to two people whose friendship was now far from certain.

Lief bitterly regretted that he had not been more wary.

We cannot tell, Zeean had whispered, when Fardeep asked her if the visitors to the valley were friends or foes.

Why could the Torans not tell if Dain and Doom were of good or evil will? Surely only because one or both of them were skilled at veiling their minds. This could be habit — completely innocent. Or —

I have many plans …

The evil whisper swirled in Lief’s mind like a foul mist.

He looked ahead, and realized that they were nearly at the end of the valley. The space between the rocky cliffs was closing. They were reaching the narrow pass through which Doom and Dain had come.

“There is something across the valley entrance,” Jasmine breathed. “Something is blocking our way.”

And indeed now Lief could see for himself a large shape lying across the stream. As he crept closer he saw that it was a caravan. On the driver’s seat, rolled in a blanket, lay a man, gently snoring.

“Steven,” breathed Barda. “He must have come with Dain and Doom. No doubt he is to follow them into the valley if they do not return within a certain time.”

The caravan hulked before them. Its back doors were pressed close against one rocky cliff wall. They would have to pass it at the other end, right under Steven’s nose. But he was still snoring gently under his blanket. Surely he would not wake!

They began moving forward. One step, two …

They were almost opposite the caravan now.

Three steps, four …

The snoring stopped. Lief looked over at the rolled bundle on the driver’s seat. It was silent, and absolutely still. Too still.

Lief’s heart seemed to freeze. Then, abruptly, there was a terrible growling sound, and the blanket began to heave, as though the body inside was swelling, doubling in size.

“Here!” A voice from the trees split the air. Lief whirled and saw Doom pounding towards them.

On the caravan seat, something snarled like a huge animal. Hot, heavy breathing grew louder, louder …

“Nevets, go back!” Doom shouted. “This is Doom! There is no danger!” Roughly he pushed Lief, Barda, and Jasmine back into the trees and stood in front of them.

“There is no danger!” he shouted again.

Slowly, the growling faded. And when Lief managed to focus his eyes on the caravan once more, the form under the blanket had shrunk back to a normal size. As he watched, it turned over as if settling once more to sleep.

Doom began hustling the companions back the way they had come. “What game do you think you are playing?” he hissed furiously. “Do you want to die? If I had not woken and found you gone —”

“How could we know you had set your pet monster to guard the valley?” Jasmine flashed back furiously.

“And are we not free to do as we please?” Lief was boiling with anger and shock.

Doom’s eyes narrowed. Then he turned on his heel and began walking back down the stream.

“I suggest you stay in the valley for now,” he called back over his shoulder. “Even I would not risk troubling Steven again for an hour or two. And Zeean and Peel are very anxious to see you. It seems they have something to tell you.”

By the time the companions reached the clearing once more, dawn was breaking. Zeean, Peel, Fardeep, and Dain were gathered around a small fire, sharing a breakfast of hot, flat cakes dripping with honey from Fardeep’s hives. They looked up as the companions approached with Doom, but asked no questions.

Perhaps they know that they will get no answers, thought Lief, taking his place at the fire with Barda and Jasmine. He felt a mixture of emotions: resentment at having had to return; curiosity as to what the Torans had to say; frustration at the thought that whatever it was would be heard by Doom and Dain also. Yet Doom had saved them from Nevets. Did that not mean …?

“It is good you have returned,” Zeean said, pushing the plate of cakes towards the newcomers. “We have an idea to discuss with you.”

She paused, her brow creasing as she saw Barda, Lief, and Jasmine glance at Doom and Dain.

Lief gripped the Belt around his waist. The calm of the amethyst, the strength of the diamond, flowed through him. And suddenly he knew what must be done. He and his companions must act as though they had no doubts about their allies. At all costs, the knowledge they had gained through his dream must be kept secret. This would be their strength.

He smiled at Zeean, and casually reached for a cake. The woman seemed to relax, and began speaking once more.

“Your father told you that the Belt would lead you to the heir, Lief. But your father knows only what he has read. And that is perhaps not all there is to know.”

“What do you mean?” Lief asked, frowning. He took a bite of the cake. It was warm and sweet on his tongue.

“The book — The Belt of Deltora — is a work of history, not of advice,” said Peel eagerly. “The writer could not foresee that one day the gems would be torn from the Belt, and would not know what should be done in such an event.”

“The Belt is a thing of great mystery and magic,” Zeean added. “The gems have been restored. But perhaps this is not enough.”

There was a muffled sound from the edge of the group. Dain was leaning forward, as though he wanted to speak.

“Dain?” said Zeean.

Dain blushed as he always did when attention was drawn to him. “I was thinking of — of the story of how the Belt was made,” he stammered. “And of what happened after.”

He fell silent, glancing nervously at the silent Doom.

“Yes?” urged Zeean encouragingly. Her eyes were sharp with interest. Lief’s skin began to tingle. Somehow he knew that they were on the edge of something momentous.

He pulled out the copy of The Belt of Deltora and flipped through it. In moments he had found what he was looking for — the words that told of how the blacksmith Adin had persuaded each of the seven tribes to allow its gem to join the Belt.

† The tribes were at first suspicious and wary, but, one by one, desperate to save their land, they agreed. As each gem became part of the belt, its tribe grew stronger. But the people kept their strength secret, and bided their time.

† And when at last the Belt was complete, Adin fastened it around his waist and it flashed like the sun. Then all the tribes united behind him to form a great army, and together they drove the enemy from their land.

Slowly, he read the words from the book aloud.

“The victory depended not only on the Belt, but on the union of the seven tribes, and their loyalty to Adin,” said Peel slowly, when the reading was finished. “Is that what you are thinking, Dain?”

Dain nodded. Doom regarded him curiously.

“Why, you are quite a scholar, Dain,” he said mockingly. “How did a farmer’s boy learn so much of the history of Deltora?”

Dain flinched, but would not be cowed. “My parents taught me,” he said quietly. “They never lost hope that one day Deltora would be free. They said its story should not be forgotten.”

Doom shrugged and turned away, but Lief thought he saw a flicker in the dark eyes. Was it anger? Regret? Or something else?

“Your parents were wise indeed, Dain,” Zeean was saying. “Your mother had Toran blood, did she not? What was her name?”

Dain seemed to tremble. “Her name is Rhans,” he said, so softly that Lief could hardly hear him. “Is, not was. Why do you speak as though she is dead?”

Zeean looked distressed. “I am sorry,” she said. “I did not mean —”

“So the seven tribes united under Adin and the Belt,” Barda growled. “Why is this important to us?”

“Who knows?” muttered Doom. He got to his feet and moved a little away from the group, turning his back. Dain looked desperately at Lief.

“You must have been helped on your journey, Lief,” he said in a low voice. “Throughout Deltora you met people willing to defy the Shadow Lord. Surely they will help you again. Help you to …” He glanced at Doom, and again his voice seemed to fail him.

Lief took a deep breath. “I think Dain’s idea is that the uniting of Deltora formed part of the Belt’s magic,” he said. “Dain thinks that we should bring the seven tribes together once more.”