Lief bent his head, pretending to consider, while his fingers secretly struggled with the Belt’s catch. The fastening was stiff, and would not open. His hand pressed against the topaz — so hard-won, so soon to be lost, if he did not hurry.
“I am waiting,” said the guardian of the bridge. “Make your statement.”
True statement, or false? Was it better to be beheaded or strangled? Better to be neither, thought Lief grimly. And then, in a blinding flash, the most wonderful idea came to him.
He looked up boldly at the waiting man. “My head will be cut off,” he said clearly.
The man hesitated.
“Well?” cried Lief. “Did you not hear my statement? Is it true or false?”
But he knew that his enemy would have no answer. For if the statement was true, the man was bound to strangle him, thus making it false. And if the statement was false, the man was bound to cut off his head, thus making it true.
And even as he wondered how in his panic he had managed to think of this, the tall figure before him gave a deep, shuddering sigh. Then Lief’s eyes widened and he cried out in shock. For the man’s flesh had begun rippling, melting — changing shape.
Brown feathers were sprouting from his skin. His legs were shrinking and his feet were spreading, becoming talons. His powerful arms and shoulders were dissolving and reforming themselves into great wings. His curved sword was becoming a fierce, hooked beak.
And in moments the man was gone, and a huge, proud bird with golden eyes stood on the cliff in his place. With a triumphant cry it spread its wings and soared into the air, joining the other birds swooping and gliding on the wind.
It is my doom to guard this bridge until truth and lies are one.
Lief stared, trembling all over. He could hardly believe what had happened. The guardian of the bridge had been a bird, forced by Thaegan’s magic into human form. It had been bound to the earth by her spite as surely as if it had been chained.
And his trick answer had broken Thaegan’s spell. He had thought only of saving his own life, but he had broken Thaegan’s spell. The bird was free at last.
A sound broke through his racing thoughts. He glanced at the bridge and to his horror saw that it was starting to crumble. Without thinking further, he leapt for it, seizing the rope railings with both hands and running, as he had never imagined he could, over the fearful gap.
He could see Barda and Jasmine standing on the edge of the cliff ahead of him, holding out their arms. He could hear their voices shrieking to him. Behind him, planks rattled together as they slipped from their rope ties and plunged to the river far below.
Soon the rope itself would give way. He knew it. Already it was growing slack. The bridge was sagging, swinging sickeningly as he ran.
All he could think of was to run faster. But he was only halfway across, and he could not run fast enough. Now the planks under his feet were slipping — slipping away! He was stumbling, dropping, the ropes burning his clutching hands. He was dangling in midair, with nowhere to put his feet. And as he hung there, helpless and buffeted by the wind, the planks in front of him — the planks that were his only pathway to safety — began slithering sideways, falling to the river far below.
Painfully, hand over hand, he began swinging himself along the sagging ropes that were all that remained of the bridge, trying not to think of what was below him, what would happen if he lost his grip.
I am playing a game in Del, he told himself feverishly, ignoring the pain of his straining wrists. There is a muddy ditch just below my feet. My friends are watching me, and will laugh at me if I fall. All I have to do is to keep going — hand over hand —
And then he felt a jolt and knew that the ropes had come loose from the cliff-face behind him. Instantly he was swinging forward, hurtling towards the bare, hard face of the cliff in front. In seconds he would slam against it, his bones shattering on the pink rock. He heard his own scream, and the screams of Barda and Jasmine, floating on the wind. He screwed his eyes shut …
With a rush something huge swooped under him, and the sickening swing stopped as he felt a warm softness on his face, against his arms. He was being lifted up — up — and the beating of mighty wings was louder in his ears than the wind.
Then he was being clutched by eager hands, and tumbled onto the dust of solid ground. His ears were ringing. He could hear shouting, laughing voices that seemed very far away. But when he opened his eyes he saw that Jasmine and Barda were leaning over him, and it was they who were shouting, with relief and joy.
He sat up, weak and dizzy, clutching at the ground. His eyes met the golden eyes of the great bird that, but for him, would still be the earthbound guardian of the bridge.
You gave me back my life, the eyes seemed to say. Now I have returned yours. My debt to you is paid. Before he could speak, the bird nodded once, spread its wings, and soared away. Lief watched as it joined its companions once more and flew with them, wheeling and shrieking, away along the chasm, into the distance and out of sight.
“You knew that he was a bird,” Lief said to Jasmine later, as they moved slowly on. Though he still felt sore and weak, he had refused to rest for long. The very sight of the cliffs made him feel ill. He wanted to get away from them as fast as he could.
Jasmine nodded, glancing at Kree, who was perched on her shoulder with Filli. “I felt it,” she said. “And I felt such pity for him when I saw the pain and longing in his eyes.”
“In torment he may have been,” snorted Barda. “But he would have killed us, without question.”
The girl frowned. “He cannot be blamed for that. He was doomed to carry out Thaegan’s will. And Thaegan — is a monster.”
Her eyes were dark with loathing. And, remembering the riddle that had almost led to his death, Lief thought that now he knew why. He waited until Barda had moved ahead, then spoke to Jasmine again.
“You are not afraid of Thaegan for yourself, but for Kree,” he said softly. “Is that not so?”
“Yes,” she said, staring straight ahead. “Kree fled to the Forests of Silence after he escaped from her long ago. He was just out of the nest when she took his family. So, in a way, he is like me. I, too, was very young when the Grey Guards took my mother and father.”
Her lips tightened. “Kree and I have been together for many years. But I think it is time for us to part. I am leading him into danger. Perhaps to the terrible death he fears more than any other. I cannot bear it.”
Kree made a low, trilling sound, and she lifted her arm to him, taking him onto her wrist.
“I know you are willing, Kree,” she said. “But I am not. We have talked of this. Now I have truly made up my mind. Please go home to the Forests. If I survive, I will come back for you. If I do not — at least you will be safe.”
She stopped, lifted her wrist into the air, and shook it slightly. “Go!” she ordered. “Go home!”
Flapping his wings to steady himself, Kree squawked protestingly.
“Go!” shouted Jasmine. She jerked her hand roughly and Kree was shaken off her wrist. He soared screeching into the air, circled above them once, then flew away.
Jasmine bit her lip and strode on without looking back, Filli chittering miserably on her shoulder.
Lief searched for something comforting to say, but could not find it.
They reached a grove of trees and began following a narrow path that led through the green shade.
“Thaegan hates anything that is beautiful, alive, and free,” Jasmine said at last, as they entered a clearing where green ferns clustered and the branches of the trees arched overhead. “The birds say that in the land around the Lake of Tears there was once a town called D’Or — a town like a garden, with golden towers, happy people, and lush flowers and trees. Now it is a dead, sad place.”