Perhaps even now it is not too late for me to make some use of the last hours of my life, he thought, hope rising within him. I have not yet fallen ill. There is still time to destroy the Sister. If Josef told Ranesh where …
‘Ranesh, what else did Josef say?’ he asked urgently. ‘Did he say anything about a paper on his desk?’
Ranesh shook his head. ‘Every word was an effort. We had but a few moments, and he spoke only of private matters.’
‘Tell me!’ Lief insisted. ‘Ranesh, I beg you.’
Ranesh set his lean jaw. ‘He said he wanted to be laid to rest in the tunic of his office. He told me that all his personal possessions were to be mine except for the manuscript of his new book, which was to be presented to you. And … that was all.’
The tiny pause before the last words rang alarm bells in Lief’s mind.
‘No!’ he burst out. ‘There was something else, I know it. You must tell me—’
Ranesh swung around to face him, hazel eyes blazing with anger. ‘Josef said I was his son, in all but blood,’ he hissed. ‘He said he loved me, and was proud of me. And then he died.’
He clenched his fists. ‘Now are you satisfied, Lief? Now that you have heard everything, even something that only I had the right to hear, will you leave me alone with my grief?’
Lief bit his lip. ‘I am sorry,’ he said softly. ‘But I cannot leave you alone. There is something you must do.’
‘I can do nothing,’ Ranesh muttered. ‘I must watch over Josef till dawn tomorrow, as is the palace way. You must ask someone else to run your errands.’
Lief clenched his own fists. ‘By dawn tomorrow, every person in the palace will be dead, Ranesh,’ he said in a level voice. ‘The plague will have finished them. I may still be alive, but I will be so feeble that I will be useless. You are the only one who can do what must be done.’
As Ranesh gaped at him in horror, he pulled the yellow notice from his pocket and held it out.
‘You must take a horse and ride like the wind to Tora,’ he said. ‘Show this notice to Marilen, and tell her that it is the work of one who would hand Deltora to the Shadow Lord. Tell her that our land’s fate is in her hands.’
Ranesh’s face darkened as he read the notice.
‘Marilen must come here, despite the plague, and take possession of the Belt,’ Lief said. ‘She must convince the people that she is not just a Toran puppet, but the true queen of the whole of Deltora. And you must stand beside her, Ranesh. You are of the people, and they know you. Ranesh—’
‘There is no need to say more,’ Ranesh murmured, tucking the yellow notice into the pocket of his coat.
Gently he touched Josef’s shoulder. Then he walked to the chapel door. Standing there, he seemed taller than he had before.
‘Never have I been asked to take responsibility for anything,’ he said. ‘I have been a thieving boy of the streets. I have been the student and helper of Josef. I have been the husband of Marilen. But you have put your trust in me, Lief, and I will not fail you.’
‘The guards will let you pass,’ Lief said soberly. ‘They will tell you that you do not need your mask, but they are wrong. Do not uncover your face until Del is well behind you.’
Ranesh nodded briefly, and was gone.
Left alone, suddenly drained of all energy, Lief sank to his knees beside the platform.
Now he had to spread the word that he had been wrong, that the plague was real after all. Every moment he delayed, more and more people were taking off their masks, exposing themselves to infection.
But he stayed where he was. He pressed his burning brow against the platform’s cold marble. The heavy silence of the small, chilly room was so intense that it seemed to make its own sound.
It came to him that his family was cursed—cursed by the wonder that was the Belt of Deltora. The Belt had weighed down generation after generation of kings and queens unworthy of its power.
And suddenly Lief was almost glad that now he would never marry Jasmine, that they would never have a child to wear the Belt in his place.
Any child of mine would come into the world only to suffer struggle, sorrow, fear and failure, he thought. Like me. Like my father. Better—far better—never to have been born.
The Belt hung heavy at his waist. Suddenly he loathed it.
Let it lie here for Marilen, he thought. I have had enough of it.
He seized the Belt and tried to take it off. The clasp resisted his trembling fingers. Almost sobbing with frustration he struggled to loosen it. His fingers slid over the great diamond, the emerald, the lapis-lazuli, the topaz … and there they froze. For the next gem in line was the opal, and that he would not touch.
The rainbow stone could give glimpses of the future. And he did not want to see the future. He could not bear it.
He remembered that only one of Deltora’s last seven dragons remained locked in enchanted sleep—the dragon of the opal, the dragon of hope. It is an omen, he thought. Now the opal dragon may never again fly Deltora’s skies. Just as hope may be lost to us forever.
The topaz warmed beneath his fingertips. And suddenly the chapel was filled with shadows, drifting around him like smoke.
Lief began to shiver. Tonight it will be full moon, as it was the night we burned the Enemy’s crystal, the night this all began, he thought. The spirits of my ancestors came to me then, to aid me. Now they come to me again, but this time …
Spirit voices began echoing from the marble walls, crying out wildly. Lief could not make out what they were saying. But the misty faces were angry and fearful. No doubt they were accusing him of cowardice and faithlessness. He did not care.
‘I will take it off!’ he roared, tearing at the clasp of the Belt. ‘I will die free of it, at least!’
And then, among all the shadowy forms, he saw Josef. Josef was holding out his arms beseechingly. His lips were moving, but Lief could not hear a single word.
‘Josef, I cannot hear you!’ Lief shouted. ‘Josef—’
He swung around as the chapel door opened.
A small blue-grey figure stood in the doorway, a large piece of parchment clutched in his hand.
‘Manus!’ gasped Lief. Quickly he glanced back to where he had last seen the shade of Josef. There was nothing there. All the shadows had gone.
‘I am sorry to disturb you, Lief,’ Manus said, a little nervously. ‘I did not know you were here. I came to see—’
He broke off, staring at Josef’s body lying on the candle-ringed platform.
‘Ah, how could anyone do such a terrible thing?’ he exclaimed, in a completely different tone. ‘It is—abominable!’
‘I am not sure now that Josef’s death was planned,’ Lief managed to say, clambering to his feet. ‘Manus—’
‘No, no!’ Manus broke in, hurrying forward. ‘I was not referring to Josef’s death. I meant this—this great ugly monument here. Abominable!’
He kicked the side of the marble platform violently.
Lief stared, trying to gather his wits. He had never seen the Ralad man so angry. Even the tuft of red hair on Manus’s head seemed to be quivering with rage.
‘This chapel was one of the first rooms to be completed when the palace was built,’ Manus panted. ‘It was to be a place of peace—a refuge from the bustle of palace life. And so it was, by the drawings. It was exquisite!’
Again he kicked the side of the platform. ‘And then, this monstrous thing was built right in the centre of the floor, completely ruining the space! Look at it! High as your shoulder, and half again as long! Ah, that man! King or no king, he was a buffoon!’