He saw that Barda had begun to eat, and he did the same. He had never eaten a stranger meal. Not just because the food was different from what he was used to at home, but because it was being eaten so high above the ground, beneath a white moon, on a platform that swayed gently with every breeze. And because a black bird called Kree and a small, furred creature called Filli shared the meal with him.
“How long have you lived here alone, Jasmine?” he asked at last.
“I was seven years old when the Grey Guards came,” the girl answered, licking her fingers and reaching for another fruit. “They must have come the long way from Del, for the Wenn had not seized them. I was filling the water bags at the stream. My parents were searching for food and carrying it up to our house in the treetops. The Guards saw them and caught them, burned the house, and took them away.”
“But the Guards did not find you?” asked Barda. “How was that?”
“My mother looked back to me and made a sign for me to hide in the ferns and to be silent,” answered Jasmine. “So I did as I was told. I thought that if I did that, if I was good, my mother and father would come back. But they did not come back.”
Her mouth tightened and turned down at the corners, but she did not cry. Jasmine, thought Lief, had probably not cried for a very long time.
“So you grew up alone, in this Forest?” he asked.
She nodded. “The good trees and the birds helped me,” she said, as though this was the most normal thing in the world. “And I remembered things my parents had taught me. I collected what I could from our old house — what had not been burned. I made this nest and slept in it at night, and so was safe from the things that roam the forest floor in the darkness. And so I have lived ever since.”
“That potion you gave us to help us move again,” said Barda, making a face at the memory. “What was it?”
“My mother made it long ago, from leaves like the ones that grow along the Wenn path,” Jasmine said. “It cured Father when he was stung. I used it on Filli, too, when I found him caught by the Wenn as a baby. That was how he came to live with me, wasn’t it, Filli?”
The little creature nibbling berries beside her chattered in agreement. She grinned, but her smile quickly faded as she turned back to Barda and Lief. “There were only a few drops left when I found you,” she said quietly. “The bottle is empty now.”
“Can you not make more?” asked Barda.
She shook her head. “The Guards’ fire killed the leaves that grew here in the Forest. The only others are on the Wenn path.”
So, Lief thought. She is unprotected now. Because of us.
“We are deeply grateful, Jasmine,” he murmured. “We owe you our lives.”
She shrugged, brushing the last of the fruit stones from her lap.
“And Deltora owes you a great debt,” Barda added. “For now we can continue our quest.”
Jasmine looked up. “If your quest to the Forests leads you to the place I think it will, you will not survive in any case,” she said bluntly. “I might as well have left you to the Wennbar.”
There was a short, unpleasant silence. Then the girl shrugged again. “But I suppose you will go on, whatever I say,” she sighed, climbing to her feet. “So I will show you the way. Are you ready?”
They traveled through the night, keeping to the treetops, while below them unseen things rustled, growled, and hissed. Their path was winding, because Jasmine would move only through certain trees. “The good trees,” she called them.
Every now and then she would bend her head to the trunk of one such tree and seem to listen. “They tell me what is ahead,” she said, when Barda asked her about this. “They warn me of danger.” And when he raised his eyebrows at her in surprise, she stared back at him as though she did not see why he should not believe her.
She told them little about the place to which she was taking them. She said there was little she could tell.
“I only know that it is in the center of the middle Forest, the smallest one,” she said. “The birds will not venture into that Forest, but they say that at its heart is an evil, forbidden place. They call this place ‘The Dark.’ It has a terrible Guardian. Those who go there never leave it, and even the trees fear it.”
She turned to Lief, with the ghost of a smile. “Does it not sound like the place you seek?” she asked.
He nodded, and touched his sword for comfort.
Day was breaking when they crossed a small clearing and entered the middle Forest.
The trees hid all but a few rays of the sun here, and there was no sound at all. Not a bird called. Not an insect moved. Even the trees and vines through which they climbed were still, as though no breeze dared to disturb the dim, damp air.
Jasmine had begun to move more slowly and carefully. Filli huddled against her neck, his head hidden in her hair. Kree no longer flew ahead, but hopped and fluttered with them from one branch to the next.
“The trees tell us to go back,” Jasmine whispered. “They say that we will die.”
There was fear in her voice, but she did not stop. Lief and Barda followed her through the thickening Forest, their ears and eyes straining for any sound or sight of danger. Yet there was nothing but green all around them, and the silence was broken only by the sounds of their own movement.
Finally they reached a place where they could go no farther. Heavy, twisting vines criss-crossed and tangled together, smothering the huge trees, making a barrier like a huge, living net. The three companions searched to left and to right, and found that the vine net made a full circle, enclosing whatever was inside.
“It is the center,” breathed Jasmine. She put up her arm to Kree, who flew to her at once.
“We must go down to the ground,” said Barda.
Jasmine shook her head. “There is terrible danger here,” she murmured. “The trees are silent, and will not answer me.”
“Perhaps they are dead,” Lief whispered. “Strangled by the vines.”
Jasmine shook her head again. Her eyes were filled with grief, pity, and anger. “They are not dead. But they are bound. They are prisoners. They are — in torment.”
“Lief, we must go down,” Barda muttered again. Plainly, this talk of trees having feelings made him uncomfortable. He thought Jasmine was more than a little mad. He turned to her. “We thank you for all you have done for us,” he said politely. “But you can do no more. We must go on alone.”
Leaving the girl crouching in the treetops, they began to half-climb, half-slide towards the forest floor. Lief looked up once and caught a glimpse of her. She was still watching them, the raven perched on her arm. With her other hand she was stroking Filli, sheltering under her hair.
They slipped lower, lower. And suddenly, Lief felt something that made his heart leap with fearful excitement. The steel Belt, hidden beneath his clothes, was warming, tingling on his skin.
“We are in the right place,” he hissed to Barda. “One of the gems is nearby. The Belt feels it.”
He saw Barda’s lips tighten. He thought he knew what the big man was thinking. If the gem was near, a terrible enemy was also near. How much easier, Barda must be thinking, if he were alone, with no one else to think about.
“Do not worry about me,” Lief whispered, trying to keep his voice steady and calm. “Nothing matters but that we seize the gem. If I die in the attempt, it will not be your fault. You must take the Belt from my body and go on alone, as you have always wished.”
Barda glanced at him quickly, and seemed about to reply but then shut his lips and nodded.
They reached the floor of the forest and sank almost knee-deep in dead leaves. Here it was quite dark, and still there was utter silence. Spiderwebs frosted the trunks of the trees, and everywhere fungus clustered in ugly lumps. The air was thick with the smell of damp and decay.