At last they reached the top of the hill and slumped to the ground, panting. The air was filled with bird calls, and when Lief raised his head he saw why.
Not far below them was a thick mass of treetops, ringed by the peaks of other grey hills. Birds in their thousands were busily weaving their nets or feeding on the yellow berries that covered the trees.
Lief and Barda’s guide darted around their heads, calling urgently.
It is foolish to think that the bird is leading us to Jasmine, Lief told himself as they followed it down to ground level. Jasmine is searching for a valley, not a high-ground forest.
But hope still flickered as he followed Barda into the trees, his feet sinking deep into the thick carpet of rotting leaves that covered the forest floor.
Then he saw, just ahead, dozens of birds swooping around a small bush which was thrashing violently from side to side for no apparent reason. The vine weaver sped towards the place.
And there, her chain caught around the bush, was Fury.
She was living up to her name—twisting and lunging, her huge fangs snapping. Her trailing chain had become tangled around the bush, and was holding her fast.
Lief swallowed his disappointment. The vine weaver, it seemed, thought one good turn deserved another. It had freed them. Now it wanted them to remove this unwelcome visitor from its forest.
In moments Barda had untangled the chain. The instant Fury felt it loosening she made a wild dash foward, almost jerking him off his feet. Lief felt hope flare all over again.
‘She is still following a scent!’ he shouted over the excited shrilling of the birds. ‘Glock’s spider must have passed this way!’
With a call of thanks to their relieved vine weaver guide, they plunged after Fury into the trees.
As they moved deeper into the forest it grew darker and more silent. The only living creatures to be seen were fat, gold-coloured moths that blundered about in the dimness like stray scraps of sunlight.
For a long time, Fury did not pause. Then, abruptly, she stopped. She rose up on her back legs, her fangs clicking together, her front legs frozen in the air.
‘What is she doing?’ Lief whispered.
He and Barda moved cautiously forward. Several of the big yellow moths were fluttering close to the ground just beyond where Fury was poised.
‘She must be hungry,’ said Barda.
Fury lowered her front legs once more and began creeping towards the moths. She had almost reached them when Lief noticed something odd.
There were more moths than before. Yet he had not seen any new ones fly down to join the crowd.
Then he realised what was happening. The moths were fluttering around a hole in the ground. And more moths were rising out of the hole every moment.
‘They must lay their eggs down there,’ murmured Barda. He shouted in annoyance as Fury suddenly jumped forward and scuttled into the hole, disappearing deep inside.
The moths scattered, bumbling out of the way. Barda tugged vainly at the spider’s chain, cursing it and ordering it to come back. But Lief’s heart was thumping as he threw himself to the ground, scraped the disguising piles of leaves away from the sides of the hole and peered into its depths.
When he looked up his eyes were shining.
‘Barda!’ he exclaimed. ‘Barda—you are not going to believe this!’
And without another word, he swung his legs into the hole, and followed Fury.
12 - Mysteries
Barda bent over the hole, roaring furiously. But Lief, rapidly disappearing into the gloom, merely shouted to him to follow. Fury plainly had no intention of returning to ground level either. The chain around Barda’s wrist was pulling violently.
There was only one thing to do. Barda scrambled into the hole himself, cursing under his breath. What was the boy doing? What had he seen in this foul burrow?
Dirt and rotted leaves showered his face as he lowered himself through the earth, clinging to the tree roots that netted the sides of the hole. His feet scrabbled for footholds. His hands ached. When he looked up, he could see only a faint glimmer of light.
‘Take care!’ Lief’s muffled voice floated upwards.
‘You are a fine one to speak of taking care!’ Barda shouted back.
A moment later, his feet broke into open space. He kicked out wildly, searching for a foothold. Something grabbed his ankles, and he yelled.
‘I have you!’ Lief called. ‘Wait!’
With relief, Barda felt his feet guided to a firm surface. Slowly he lowered himself out of the tunnel.
The first thing he saw was Lief’s face, wild with excitement and streaked with dirt. Then he moved his eyes downward. And stared.
He was looking down at a vast space filled with thousands of huge grey poles that stretched from floor to ceiling. A gurgling stream lined with pale ferns wound its way through the poles, disappearing into the dimness.
Then he realised what he was seeing, and his jaw dropped.
‘Why, they are giant trees!’ he breathed. ‘This is a forest! A forest beneath a forest! How could this be?’
‘I think the vine weaver birds must have caused it,’ said Lief, touching the matted web of branches and vines above his head. ‘Once they lived in the tops of these trees, weaving their nests and eating berries. Over time, the forest canopy became so thick and tangled that it was almost solid. The berries the birds dropped did not fall to the ground, but were caught in old nests, and the forks of branches.’
‘So the seeds took root, watered by the rain and young trees grew on top of the old,’ said Barda. ‘And after hundreds of years…’
‘After hundreds of years,’ Lief finished for him, ‘there was no sign of the old forest left. No sign of the valley in which it grew. Only the trees, the moths and the birds above knew the secret.’
Barda became aware that Fury was tugging once more on her chain. She had moved down the tree as far as she could, and was now rearing and scrabbling in frustration because she could go no further.
‘We still do not know if Jasmine and Glock are here, or just Glock’s spider,’ he said.
Lief grinned. ‘What trees and birds know, Jasmine soon knows also,’ he said. ‘She and Glock have found this place, there is no doubt. Look!’
He pointed. And there, tied around the trunk of the tree and dangling almost to the ground, was a rope.
It did not take long for Lief and Barda to reach the ground using the rope, but even this small delay drove Fury to distraction. The moment she was free to do so, she set off at a great pace along the stream.
This time, Lief and Barda hardly needed her to show them the way to go. The ground was almost covered by fragile white fungus and patches of brittle fern. The tracks of two people were plainly visible—one set of heavy, large prints, one set of lighter, smaller ones.
The air was heavy with the smell of earth and mould. There was no sound but the gurgling of the stream. The trees rose silent and ghostly around them, their trunks blotched with tongues of yellow fungus from which hung squirming bundles of fat caterpillars. Clearly the moths from the forest above used the hidden valley as a safe nesting place.
Now and then Lief or Barda called Jasmine’s name, but no answering cry reached their ears. Slowly a feeling of dread began to grow in Lief. Were they too late? Words from The Girl with the Golden Hair echoed in his mind.
‘Dragons have been extinct in Deltora for hundreds of years,’ said Barda, as if reading his mind. ‘If there is a dragon’s lair in this valley, it is empty. The forest would never have been covered over if this was not so. The dragon would have kept the canopy open, by flying out to hunt every day.’