Lief stood stiffly, his heart beating fast, as Jasmine followed him around the bend. He heard her take a sharp breath as she, too, saw what was ahead.
The golden-eyed man had noticed them, but he made no move. He just stood, waiting. He wore nothing but a loincloth, yet he did not shiver in the wind. He was so still you could have thought him a statue, except that he breathed.
“He is bewitched,” Jasmine whispered, and Kree made a small, moaning sound.
They walked cautiously forward. The man watched them silently. But when finally they stood before him, at the very edge of the terrible drop, he raised his sword warningly.
“We wish to pass, friend,” Barda said. “Stand aside.”
“You must answer my question,” replied the man in a low, rasping voice. “If you answer correctly, you may pass. If you answer wrongly, I must kill you.”
“By whose order?” Jasmine demanded.
“By the order of the sorceress Thaegan,” rasped the man. At the sound of the name his skin seemed to quiver. “Once, I tried to deceive her, to save a friend from death. Now it is my doom to guard this bridge until truth and lies are one.”
He looked from one to the other. “Who will meet my challenge?”
“I will,” Jasmine said, shaking off Barda’s restraining hand and stepping forward.
The look of fear had disappeared from her face. It had been replaced by an expression that for a moment Lief did not recognize. And then, with amazement, he realized that it was pity.
“Very well.” The huge man looked down at his feet. A row of sticks lay there in the dust.
“Change eleven to nine, without removing any sticks,” he said harshly.
Lief felt his stomach turn over.
“This is not a fair question,” exclaimed Barda. “We are not magicians!”
“The question has been asked,” said the man, his golden eyes unblinking. “It must be answered.”
Jasmine had been staring at the sticks. Suddenly she crouched and began moving them around. Her body hid what she was doing, but when she stood up again Lief gasped. There were still eleven sticks, but now they read:
“Very good,” said the man, with no change of tone. “You may pass.”
He stood aside and Jasmine moved onto the bridge. But when Lief and Barda tried to follow her, he barred their way.
“Only the one who answers may cross,” he said.
Jasmine had turned and was watching them. Black wings spread wide, Kree hovered above her head. The bridge swayed dangerously.
“Go on!” Barda called. “We will follow.”
Jasmine nodded slightly, turned again, and began walking lightly across the bridge, as carelessly as if it were a tree branch in the Forests of Silence.
“You spoke, so your question is next,” said the man with the golden eyes, turning to Barda. “Here it is — what is it that a beggar has, that a rich man needs, and that the dead eat?”
There was silence. Then —
“Nothing,” said Barda quietly. “The answer is, ‘Nothing.’”
“Very good,” said the man. “You may pass.”
He stood aside.
“I would like to wait until my companion has answered his question,” Barda said, without moving. “Then we can cross the bridge together.”
“That is not permitted,” said the man. The powerful muscles of his arms tightened slightly on the curved sword.
“Go, Barda,” whispered Lief. His skin was tingling with nerves, but he was sure he could answer the question, whatever it was. Jasmine and Barda had succeeded, and he had far more learning than either of them.
Barda frowned, but did not argue further. Lief watched as he stepped onto the bridge and began walking slowly across it, holding tightly to the rails of rope. The rope creaked under his weight. The great birds swooped around him, riding the wind. Far below, there was the thin, snake-like trail of a gleaming river. But Barda did not look down.
“Here is the third question,” rasped the man with the golden eyes, stepping back into his place. “It is long, so to be fair I will ask it twice. Listen well.”
Lief paid close attention as the man began to speak. The question was in the form of a rhyme:
Thaegan gulps her favorite food
In her cave with all her brood:
Hot, Tot, Jin, Jod,
Fie, Fly, Zan, Zod,
Pik, Snik, Lun, Lod
And the dreaded Ichabod.
Each child holds a slimy toad.
On each toad squirm two fat grubs.
On each grub ride two fleas brave.
How many living in Thaegan’s cave?
Lief almost smiled with relief. How many long afternoons had he spent doing sums under the watchful eye of his mother? He could meet this test easily!
He knelt on the ground and as the rhyme was repeated he counted carefully, writing numbers in the dust with his finger.
There were thirteen of Thaegan’s children altogether. Plus thirteen toads. Plus twenty-six grubs. Plus fifty-two fleas. That made … one hundred and four. Lief checked the sum twice and opened his mouth to speak. Then his heart thudded painfully as, just in time, he realized that he had nearly made a mistake. He had forgotten to add Thaegan herself!
Almost panting at the near disaster, he scrambled to his feet.
“One hundred and five,” he gasped.
The man’s strange eyes seemed to flash. “You have not answered well,” he said. His hand shot out and grabbed Lief’s arm with a grip of iron.
Lief gaped at him, feeling the heat of panic rise into his cheeks. “But — the sum is correct!” he stammered. “The children, the toads, the grubs, and the fleas — and Thaegan herself — add up to one hundred and five!”
“Yes,” said the man. “But you have forgotten Thaegan’s favorite food. A raven, swallowed alive. It was in the cave also, alive in her belly. The answer is one hundred and six.”
He lifted his curved sword. “You have not answered well,” he repeated. “Prepare to die.”
Lief struggled to free himself. “The question was not fair!” he shouted. “You tricked me! How could I know what Thaegan likes to eat?”
“What you know or do not know is not my concern,” said the guardian of the bridge. He raised the sword higher, till its curved blade was level with Lief’s neck.
“No!” cried Lief. “Wait!” At this moment of terror, his one thought was for the Belt of Deltora and the topaz fixed to it. If he did nothing to prevent it, this golden-eyed giant would surely find the Belt after he was dead, take it from his body — and perhaps give it to Thaegan. Then Deltora would be lost to the Shadow Lord forever.
I must throw the Belt over the cliff, he thought desperately. I must make sure that Barda and Jasmine see me do it. Then they will have some chance of finding it again. If only I can delay him until I can do it …
“You are a trickster and a deceiver!” he cried, slipping his hands under his shirt, feeling for the Belt’s fastening. “No wonder you are doomed to guard this bridge until truth and lies are one!”
As he had hoped, the man paused. Anger brightened his golden eyes.
“My suffering was not justly earned,” he spat. “It was for pure spite that Thaegan took my freedom and cursed me to be tied to this piece of earth. If you are so interested in truth and lies, we will play another game.”
Lief’s fingers froze on the Belt. But the flicker of hope that had flared in his heart faded and died with his enemy’s next words.
“We will play a game to decide which way you will die,” said the man. “You may say one thing, and one thing only. If what you say is true, I will strangle you with my bare hands. If what you say is false, I will cut off your head.”