The Valley of the Lost

Lief 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.”