His thoughts drifted to Kree, Filli, and Prin, waiting near the breeding cave. He hoped that the gnomes would let them go. That they would escape from the Mountain safely. That, somehow, Kree and Filli could make their way back to the Forests of Silence and Prin would return to the Kin. Prin, who looked so like the companion of his earliest childhood come to life.
He smiled slightly as he remembered the first time he had seen her, drinking from the Dreaming Spring.
Drink, gentle stranger, and welcome. All of evil will beware.
It was as though Lief had been struck by lightning. For a split second everything seemed to stand still. Then he moved his hand from his sword hilt to his belt.
The coins and jewels above him were swept away by a huge, clawed foot.
“I SEE YOU, WORM!”
The monster was above him, its great head bending low, its mouth open in a leer of triumph. But already Lief had pulled the water bottle free, and unscrewed its cap. And before the toad could jeer again, he was hurling the bottle, overflowing with water from the Dreaming Spring, straight into the grinning, open mouth, to the back of the throat.
He struggled to his knees as Gellick gulped. The giant toad hissed.
“YOU —” it choked. Then it jerked violently and its eyes rolled back in its head. It tried to move, but already its feet were fixed to the treasure hill by thick, snaking roots. It screamed. It screamed as its swollen body pulsed and changed. It screamed as its vast, spiny neck began to stretch.
Then there were some long, terrifying moments when Lief wanted to turn away, but could not. Moments when he heard Jasmine and Barda beside him, but could do no more than clasp their hands. Moments when the whole cavern seemed to flash and darken, when he thought that the monstrous, writhing thing before him would never cease its struggles.
Then all was still, and where Gellick had crouched there was a vast tree with a straight, tall trunk and three branches bearing clusters of pale-colored leaves. The tree’s topmost branches brushed the soaring roof of the treasure cavern. And as Lief looked up, something fell from its tip, straight into his hand.
It was the emerald. Dull no longer, but deep, sparkling green.
Fa-Glin and Gla-Thon were watching, goggle-eyed. But Lief did not hesitate. The Belt of Deltora gleamed as he put its fifth stone in place.
Great was the rejoicing in the halls of the Dread Gnomes that day. The treasure cavern seethed with gnomes gazing in awe at the tree that now rose in its center. The locked doors of the food stores were opened and a great feast was enjoyed by all. Thanks and praise were heaped on the companions’ heads as the story of Gellick’s defeat was told and retold.
“I feared the worst,” said Fa-Glin to a crowd of listeners, for the dozenth time. “I thought we were lost. Then Lief of Del wrought his great magic, and in an instant all was changed.”
And for the dozenth time the crowd sighed in awe, and Lief felt uncomfortable. Fa-Glin’s tale made it sound as though he had meant all along to use the Dreaming Water, and had simply waited until the time was right. In fact, of course, it was the impulse of a moment, an idea that sprang into his mind when all seemed lost.
But he said nothing aloud. He could see the wisdom of Barda’s whispered advice: “It will do us no harm for the Dread Gnomes to think we can perform wonders. They are a warlike and suspicious people. There will come a time when we will need their loyalty and their trust, when we will want them to listen to our advice.”
In fact that time came sooner than they expected. The feast was still in progress when there was a high, gobbling cry from somewhere near. Then there was the sound of running feet.
“Kin!” a voice shouted. “Pen-Fel and Za-Van have sighted Kin from the spyholes to the south. There are many, many. The sky is black with them!”
In an instant, food and drink were forgotten, bows and arrows were being snatched up, and gnomes were running for the door.
“No!” Lief, Barda, Jasmine, and Prin shouted at the tops of their voices. Their voices echoed around the feasting hall.
And the gnomes stopped.
“Have you not learned better than this?” demanded Lief, as Prin clung to him in terror. “Do you not realize that the Kin should be your partners on this Mountain? Do you want the Boolong trees to continue to multiply till even the streams are choked by thorns? If I am right, the Kin are coming to rescue their young one. You should rejoice, and beg them to stay! You should welcome them with open arms, not seek to kill them!”
There was a moment’s silence, then Fa-Glin nodded. “Our friend is right,” he said. Regretfully he smoothed the old Kin skin jacket he wore, then he took it off and threw it at his feet.
“It is a pity. But our weavers can make fine garments enough,” he murmured. Then once again he raised his voice. “Lay down your weapons, gnomes. We will go out and greet the Kin in friendship. We will welcome them home.”
At sunrise two days later, a strange group walked down the gnomes’ pathway to the bottom of the Mountain. Prin walked with Lief, Jasmine, and Barda. Ailsa, Merin, and Bruna came next. Fa-Glin and Gla-Thon brought up the rear.
They spoke little as they walked, for more than one heart was heavy at the thought of the parting to come. But when they reached the road at the Mountain’s base, where a bridge spanned the stream, they turned to one another.
“We thank you and will think of you every day,” Ailsa murmured, bending and touching each of the travellers on the forehead. “Because of you we are home, and Little — I mean, Prin — is with us once more.”
Merin smiled as she and Bruna farewelled the companions in their turn. “As she has told us many times, Prin has grown too tall and strong in these last days to be called Little One anymore. Besides, now that we are here again, there will be more young, and she will no longer be the smallest among us.”
As she stepped back, Fa-Glin stepped forward. “The Dread Gnomes also thank you,” he said gruffly, bowing low. He held out his hand and Gla-Thon passed him a small carved box of Boolong tree bark. This Fa-Glin gave to Lief.
Lief opened the box. Inside was a golden arrowhead. “We owe you a great debt,” said Fa-Glin. “If ever you need us, we are yours to the death. And this is a token of our oath.”
“Thank you,” said Lief, and bowed in his turn. “And you will follow the plan …?”
“Indeed we will.” Fa-Glin’s teeth gleamed through his white beard as he grinned. “Next full moon, and every full moon from now on, the poison jars will be at this spot as usual. But their contents will not be the same, though the liquid will look identical. Stream water mixed with Boolong sap, I fancy, will do the trick. We and the Kin together will make the brew. It has been decided.”
“And our last supplies of Gellick’s venom will be kept safe,” added Gla-Thon. “So that when at last our Enemy realizes what we are doing, and comes for us, we will be ready. Then, and only then, will our arrows be tipped with poison once more.”
“It is our hope —” Barda hesitated, then went on carefully. “It is our hope that your Mountain will not be invaded. Before long there may come a time when the Enemy will have other concerns.”
The Kin glanced at one another, confused. But Fa-Glin and Gla-Thon nodded, their eyes gleaming. They had sworn never to speak of the stone that had fallen into Lief’s hand, or of what he had done with it. They had not asked for an explanation of the glittering, gem-studded Belt into which the emerald had fitted, or the two empty spaces that still glared blankly along the Belt’s length. But perhaps they did not need to ask. Perhaps they knew, or guessed, the truth, for the Dread Gnomes were an old race, with long, long memories.