9 – West

Within the hour, the companions were moving westward once more. But they were not travelling overland, in the way they had expected. They were crawling through a tunnel below the earth. And they were no longer alone. Not only Gers, but Claw and Brianne, too, were with them.

Lief was glad enough of the cave-dwellers’ help, and their company, but he had not expected it. The cave-dwellers still did not even know their visitors’ names. After her dramatic announcement, all Jasmine had told Gers was that she and her friends were intent on freeing the slaves in the Shadow Arena.

She had said nothing of the Pirran Pipe, so the quest sounded foolhardy indeed. Lief understood that it might appeal to Gers, but he had expected Claw and Brianne to be more cautious. There was something, however, that Lief had not considered.

Claw said flatly that the cave was no longer safe.

‘You will not admit that you have come freshly from Deltora, my friends, but I am sure you have,’ he said. ‘You have passed through the shutting spell that guards the mountains. The Enemy has been alerted. At any moment Grey Guards will be here in swarms, sniffing you out. The sooner we leave here, the better.’

Gers merely grunted agreement, but Brianne’s face filled with angry despair as she turned away to fill a water bag.

His face filled with pity, Emlis drew Lief, Barda and Jasmine aside.

‘Why can we not tell Claw that his fears are groundless because we came to the Shadowlands from below?’ he whispered.

‘That must be told to no-one!’ Lief whispered back. ‘However all this ends, the Shadow Lord must not learn of the caverns. Your people must not be betrayed.’

‘But we can trust Claw and the others, I am sure of it!’ Emlis hissed. ‘They would not tell.’

‘They may not tell willingly,’ Barda agreed grimly. ‘But whether they come with us or stay here, they could be captured at any time. There are many ways of making a captive speak, and the Shadow Lord knows all of them.’

Emlis looked horrified.

‘That is why I told Gers so little,’ Jasmine murmured. ‘The less others know of our business, the safer we will be. And the safer they will be also, Emlis, for what they do not know, they cannot be forced to tell.’

She glanced at Lief, surprised that he had not yet spoken. Lief’s head was bowed. He seemed to be in the grip of some strong feeling.

‘Do you not agree, Lief!’ she demanded.

‘Of course,’ he said, looking up and meeting her eyes. ‘We could relieve our own minds by burdening these people with our secret. But if we do, we could be condemning them to die despising themselves for betraying their friends and their country. We must keep silent. But I agree with Emlis. It is hard.’

Before Jasmine could answer, Gers lumbered past them and disappeared into the shadows at the back of the cave. Claw followed with the torch. The companions heard the grating sound of moving rock. Then, as Claw held the torch high, they saw that Gers had moved a large stone aside to reveal a small, dark tunnel.

‘This tunnel leads to another Resistance cell, further west,’ said Claw. ‘We have not used it since the day of the Shadow Lord’s wrath, but it will be safer than the surface.’

He saw the companions hesitate, and raised his eyebrows. ‘We will go first, if you wish,’ he said.

‘Gers and Brianne first,’ said Barda. ‘You, Claw, between us.

Claw nodded shortly and ushered Gers and Brianne into the tunnel. Clearly they were used to it, for they entered without hesitation. Jasmine went next, then Emlis and Barda. When it was Claw’s turn, he took a last look around the cave and smiled bitterly.

‘When I came to this place, it was a mere hollow under the rock, just large enough for me hide in like a wounded animal,’ he said softly. ‘Then I heard water trickling below. Mad with thirst, I dug. I found the cave, and the water. The water comes underground from Deltora—from Dread Mountain, I think—for it fights the Shadowlands despair we call the Sadness. This place has been a refuge to me for a long time.’

‘I am sorry we have been the cause of your leaving it,’ Lief muttered, his conscience pricking him.

Claw’s smile broadened. ‘There is nothing to be sorry for. As soon as I saw the mines being abandoned and our people herded west, I knew that the time for hiding was at an end for me. While I could pretend that hiding served a purpose—pretend that saving a few people or killing a few Guards struck a blow against the Enemy—I could bear it. Now…’

He extinguished the torch, and followed Barda, with Lief close behind him.

The tunnel was dark and narrow. Claw’s people spoke little, and on the seemingly endless journey through cramped, musty blackness there was plenty of time for Lief to wonder if they were being led into a trap.

But at last the forward movement stopped. There was another grating sound as a stone blocking the tunnel was heaved aside. Then a long, low groan echoed back through the tunnel.

‘What is it?’ Lief heard Brianne whisper. ‘Gers!’

There was no answer. The forward movement began again as first Brianne, then those following her, joined Gers in the cave beyond the stone.

Lief heard a muffled cry, a torrent of whispers, then—nothing. With a feeling of dread, he crawled through the narrow opening after Claw.

No-one had lit a torch, but the cave was not dark. Cold white light streamed through its roof, which had been broken open like an eggshell. A thick layer of dust covered the remains of a few pathetic possessions scattered on the floor. Charred bedding. A broken bowl. Some scraps of clothing.

The Shadow Lord’s mark had been burned onto a rock wall spattered with blood.

It was clear what had happened here. Discovery. Attack. The very air seemed to reek of fear.

Lief moved stiffly to Barda, Jasmine and Emlis, who were standing motionless under the hole in the roof near the burned remains of a rough ladder.

‘Hellena,’ moaned Brianne, falling to her knees and pressing a tattered blue shawl to her cheek in an agony of grief. ‘Pi-Ban. Tipp. Moss. Pieter. Alexi…’

Claw’s thin lips were pressed together. He was so still that he seemed scarcely to be breathing.

Gers spat on the mark of the Shadow Lord. ‘It is fortunate for us that the Guards were too busy destroying to make a search,’ he muttered. ‘They did not find the tunnel. The rock was still in place.’

‘That does not mean they did not find it,’ Claw said grimly. ‘This plainly happened months ago, but they may still be waiting up above, like cats at a mouse hole.’

Brianne stood up, tall and straight, her gaunt, scarred but still beautiful face icy cold. ‘I hope they are,’ she said, and her fingers caressed the dagger at her belt.

It was then that Lief suddenly remembered where he had heard her name before. It had been on the road to Rithmere. Brianne of Lees had been spoken of as a great athlete, a Champion of the Rithmere Games. It was said that she had gone into hiding, to avoid sharing the wealth she had won with her village.

That story had been false. Wickedly false, for it had made her own people hate her, as no doubt she had been told by Guards only too eager to cause suffering. Lief wished he could tell her that her people now knew what had happened to her, and mourned her loss. But he could not speak. Not yet.

Jasmine murmured to Kree, who fluttered up to the hole in the roof. They saw the bird’s black shape outlined against the sky, yellow eye gleaming. Then Kree flew back to Jasmine’s shoulder and gave a series of low squawks. Jasmine’s face grew alert.

Gers cursed under his breath and felt for his talisman. ‘Do you see that?’ Lief heard him mutter to Claw. ‘The bird is speaking to her!’

‘So it seems.’ Claw’s keen eyes regarded Jasmine and Kree with interest.

‘Kree can see no Guards,’ Jasmine said. ‘But there is a large building a little to the west.’

‘That is the Factory,’ said Claw. ‘We must pass it to reach the Shadow Arena.’ His voice was low and even, but as he spoke a nerve twitched beside his eye and he unconsciously flexed his talons.

Gers glanced at him. ‘Better that we begin while it is still night, then,’ he growled.

Claw nodded shortly. Then, without another word, he strode to stand under the hole in the roof and jumped, catching the rim of the hole with his talons and hauling himself up into the open air.

Jasmine, Barda, Lief and Brianne followed, immediately turning to catch and lift Emlis as he was heaved upward by Gers. Gers himself came last, grunting and swearing with the effort, enormous hands grabbing for support, heavy legs kicking against the cave wall.

When finally he lay grumbling on the cracked clay, the companions were free to turn west, to look their fill at the long, dark mass that hulked in the distance.

The Factory sprawled almost to the mountains’ edge. Flame belched from its tall, thin chimneys, turning the boiling cloud above to scarlet. The very sight of it filled Lief with dread.

He turned to Jasmine and saw that she was staring fixedly at the shape ahead, her green eyes calculating, her mouth set with determination. Lief felt a stirring of unease. Why would Jasmine look like that?

They began walking in single file, keeping low, moving quickly through the open spaces between the scattered rocks. The chimney flames ahead leaped high, guiding their way. Their ears strained for sounds of danger, but all they could hear was a dull, low rumble that grew louder and louder with every step they took.

The flames grew closer. The rumbling sound grew more penetrating, till the air seemed to tingle with it, and the very earth under their feet seemed to vibrate. A ghastly sweet-sour smell gusted towards them on the wind.

Now Lief could see the brutal shape of the Factory, very close. He could see a broad road running beside it, leading west, then disappearing around a great hill. He could also see the source of the terrible odour. Enormous, shadowy mounds of garbage lay between the road and the mountains.

‘Those mounds will give us good cover,’ Barda muttered to Lief.

Claw turned. His face was gleaming with sweat. His eyes were glassy. His lips were fixed in a smile that looked more like a sneer. ‘Good cover,’ he repeated. ‘Oh, yes. I found them so.’

Then, abruptly his eyes widened. ‘Gers! Brianne!’ he cried harshly.

Lief spun around and saw, leaping towards them, a monstrous green man-shape with massive bowed shoulders, clawed hands and a lashing tail. The creature’s snake-like scales gleamed, its hideous lipless mouth split in a savage grin, its orange eyes burned.

Lief knew what it was. He had seen its like before, on Dread Mountain. It was the Shadow Lord’s creation, bred to fight. The ultimate killing machine. A vraal.

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