‘Under the earth …’ Sharn shook her head. ‘So Jasmine is truly trying to find a secret way to the Shadowlands! And—and Lief and Barda are with her?’
‘So it seems,’ Steven nodded.
‘But Doom, you must go after them!’ cried Sharn. ‘You must stop them! They cannot save the prisoners alone! All that will happen is that Lief will deliver himself—and the Belt of Deltora, Doom!—into the Shadow Lord’s hands!’
‘The Belt cannot be taken beyond Deltora’s borders,’ Doom said. ‘We know this, and Lief knows it too.’
Sharn stared at him, unable to understand his calm. ‘But what of the Pirran Pipe? Lief was so sure it was the only way to defeat the Shadow Lord on his own ground.’
‘Perhaps Lief knows something we do not,’ Marilen murmured.
‘Perhaps he does,’ said Doom. He looked at the girl thoughtfully for a moment, then turned back to Sharn. ‘It was not an easy decision to return to Del, Sharn,’ he said gently. ‘My whole instinct was to continue. Then it came to me that it was Lief, Barda and Jasmine who restored the Belt of Deltora, and that they did it alone, without our help or protection.’
Sharn’s eyes were blinded with tears. ‘You are saying that we should trust them.’
‘I am saying that we must trust them,’ said Doom. ‘Our place, our task, is here—especially now. All we can do is keep faith. And wish Lief, Barda and Jasmine well, wherever they may be.’
Lief, Barda and Jasmine were in a place, and facing a challenge, that not even Doom could have imagined. They were following Lief’s plan. They were climbing the cavern wall that jutted beside the dome of Auron.
One of the raft-dwellers’ old patched boats floated below them. The Piper himself sat in the stern. Penn was with him, looking up anxiously. At their feet lay what remained of a great coil of rope, slowly unravelling as the three companions made their perilous climb.
‘The hand-holds are growing further and further apart,’ gasped Barda, hauling himself up to a new ledge.
‘You can stop now. We are already above the height of the dome,’ said Jasmine, who was climbing nimbly above him, the rope trailing behind her. ‘I will go on and attach the rope.’
She continued climbing, aiming for a lump of rock that jutted out high above them where the cavern wall curved to meet the roof.
Flattening himself against the rock beside Barda, Lief looked down. Far below, slightly to his right, the boat, small as a child’s toy, rocked beside the band of seaweed. The great coil of rope had completely unravelled. Now the rope hung loosely down the rock face, its knotted end swinging, rising steadily as Jasmine climbed.
And looming before him, rising from sluggish, milky waters, was the rounded shape of the dimly glowing dome. Arach crawled in the shadowy filth heaped at its base, feeding, spinning, watching.
The sound of the Pirran Pipe rang in Lief’s ears. He closed his eyes, fighting it down.
‘Very well. It is as secure as I can make it,’ Jasmine hissed from above.
Lief looked up. Through the dimness he could see that Jasmine had pulled her end of the rope from her waist and looped it over the jutting rock, tying it firmly.
She tugged at the rope to test it. Then, without a sign of fear, she leaned back over the terrible drop, curved her body so her feet touched the rocky wall, and began running downward, the rope slipping through her hands.
In moments she had reached the ledge where Lief and Barda stood.
‘Ready?’ she asked casually.
Barda took hold of the rope, his hands gripping it firmly just below Jasmine’s own.
‘Promise me, Lief,’ he muttered, ‘that if this should go wrong, you will get back to the rafts and return to Del, however you are able. We cannot risk—’
‘It will not go wrong if we follow Lief’s plan,’ snapped Jasmine. ‘I am sure the rope is long enough, and the fastening will hold. The most important thing is to push off the cliff-face as hard as we possibly can, so that we swing out fast and far enough to cross the gap. And when I say jump, Barda, you must jump. At once!’
Barda gritted his teeth. ‘And if I land safely on the top of the dome, but cannot hold myself in place?’ he muttered.
‘Then you will slide all the way down to the base and fight Arachs,’ said Jasmine calmly. ‘But if not, you will simply wait while I return with Lief.’
There was nothing further for Barda to say. With a grim nod, he tightened his grip on the rope and bent one knee so that the sole of his boot was planted firmly against the cliff-face. Then, on the count of three, he and Jasmine launched themselves into space.
Lief held his breath as they swung in a great arc towards the dome, two small figures at the end of a rope that looked impossibly frail. Time seemed to stop. The milky sea crawled beneath them. Their shapes showed dark against the dome’s dull glow, swinging up, up …
‘Now!’ shrieked Jasmine, and her voice echoed weirdly from the rock. Now … Now … Now …
Barda let go of the rope and sailed through the air. He landed on the dome flat on his belly. The surface of the dome shimmered but did not bend.
Jasmine was already swinging back, her small body hurtling towards the wall with terrifying speed. Lief stood ready to catch her, to cushion her so that she would not smash herself to pieces against the rock.
It was all over in seconds. In seconds, Jasmine was back on the ledge, gabbling instructions. In seconds, Lief was taking Barda’s place, grasping the rope, pressing his foot against the wall, thrusting himself forward at Jasmine’s signal.
Then he was flying, cold air rushing against his face, ears strained for Jasmine’s call.
The dome was huge, filling his view. He felt himself swinging upward. His brain filled with the singing of the Pipe. Louder. Louder …
‘Now!’ shrieked Jasmine.
Lief let go of the rope. His body sailed up through the empty air, up over the dome. His eye caught the flutter of Jasmine’s clothing beside him. He could see Barda stretched motionless below.
Then he was falling. The dim glow of the dome rushed up to meet him. A warm, shimmering haze surrounded him.
He was aware of nothing but sound. Sweet, pure music poured through him, possessed him. It was blind instinct that made him reach for Jasmine’s hand, clutch at Barda’s shoulder, as he began to slip through the haze, and the magic of the Pirran Pipe drew him in.
15 - The Isle of Illusion
The grass was velvety soft under Lief’s feet. Above his head arched a sky of perfect blue. Soft purple hills misted the horizon. The air was warm, and fragrant with the flowers that bloomed beside a rippling silver stream. The shadows under the trees were dappled with sunlight.
Pirra.
The birds seemed to sing the name. The stream babbled it. The leaves whispered it, rustling in a gentle breeze that seemed to breathe magic.
Lief felt hands tugging at his arm. Heard Jasmine’s voice calling him from far away.
‘Lief! Wake! We are inside the dome.’
The blue of the sky shimmered uncertainly, like water. The trees wavered.
‘Lief, behind you! Look!’ Jasmine’s voice was sharp, urgent. It could no longer be ignored. Unwillingly, Lief turned.
A large crowd of people stood silently watching them. One, wearing the tall, stiff head-covering of a Piper, was dressed in purest white. The rest wore fluttering robes in soft, light colours. Many had flowers in their hair. They looked like the Aurons of the rafts, but they were taller, their faces were less sharp and their skin was golden brown.