Deltora Quest #4: The Shifting Sands (4 page)

L
ief looked after them, open-mouthed. “Why, there is nothing wrong with Ferdinand’s legs at all!” he exclaimed. “He has left his crutches behind — and he is running!”

“A cheat in every way,” Barda snorted. “I hope his customers catch him. We are fortunate that they did not blame Kree and turn on us.”

“Fortunate, too, that you made Ferdinand pay us in advance,” murmured Jasmine. She was scanning the roadway, searching for coins. But the crowd had picked the ground clean and all she found was one wooden bird. She picked it up and tucked it away in her pocket with her other treasures. For Jasmine, nothing was too small to be of use.

Guided by the banner billowing high above the heads of the crowd, they made their way to the Champion Inn. They entered the door and to their
surprise found themselves in a very small closed room. A plump woman in a bright green dress decorated with many frills and ribbons rose from behind a desk in one corner and bustled towards them, the large bunch of keys at her waist jingling importantly.

“Good-day!” she cried, in a friendly way. “I am Mother Brightly, your hostess. Please forgive me, but before I can welcome you here I must ask if you are competitors in the Games.”

“We wish to be,” said Barda cautiously. “But we are strangers in these parts, and do not know how to enter.”

“Why, then, you have come to the right place!” Mother Brightly beamed. “This is the official Games inn. Here you can register as competitors, and stay until the Games begin tomorrow.”

The companions exchanged glances. It sounded wonderful, but …

“We have only one silver coin between us,” Barda admitted reluctantly. “We were hoping that perhaps we could work for our keep.”

The woman flapped her hands at him, shaking her head. “Work? Nonsense!” she exclaimed. “You must rest and eat so that you can do your best in the Games. If one silver coin is all you have, one silver coin is the price you will pay. Competitors pay only what they can afford at the Champion Inn.”

Before the companions could say any more she hurried back to the desk, beckoning them to follow.
She sat down, pulled a large open book towards her and took up a pen. “Name and town?” she asked briskly, glancing at Barda.

Lief caught his breath. He, Barda, and Jasmine had decided that it would be unwise to give their real names when they entered the Games. But they had not realized that they would have to think of false names so soon.

Mother Brightly was waiting, pen poised and eyebrows raised.

“Ah … my name is — Berry. Of Bushtown,” stammered Barda.

The woman wrote, frowning slightly. “I have not heard of Bushtown before,” she said.

“It is — to the north,” Barda answered. “My friends — Birdie and — and Twig — are also from there.”

He glanced nervously at Jasmine and Lief, who were both glaring at him, but Mother Brightly nodded, writing busily and apparently quite satisfied.

“Now,” she said, jumping up with the book clutched under her arm. “Follow me, if you please!”

Things were moving very fast. Feeling rather dazed, Lief, Barda, and Jasmine followed her into another room where stood a large set of scales, a long rule, and a big cupboard.

“Please give me your weapons,” Mother Brightly said, taking a key from the bunch at her waist and unlocking the cupboard. Then, as the companions hesitated,
she clapped her hands sharply and raised her voice. “I must insist! It is forbidden to carry weapons in the Champion Inn.”

Unwillingly, Lief and Barda unbuckled their swords, and Jasmine handed over the dagger she wore at her belt. Mother Brightly locked the weapons in the cupboard, nodding approvingly. “Do not fear,” she said in a calmer voice. “They will be quite safe here, and returned to you before you leave. Now — your measurements.”

She weighed Lief, Barda, and Jasmine in turn, and measured their heights, writing all the details down in her book. She felt their muscles and looked carefully at their hands and feet. Then she nodded, pleased.

“You need food and rest, my dears, but otherwise you are all strong, and should do well,” she said. “I thought so, when first I saw you. One last thing. Your special talents. What are they?”

She waited with her head on one side.

Lief, Barda, and Jasmine glanced at one another. They were not quite sure what the woman meant.

“I — can climb,” said Jasmine hesitantly at last. “I can balance on high places, swing, jump …”

“Excellent, Birdie!” said Mother Brightly, and wrote “AGILITY” beside Jasmine’s false name. She turned to Barda. “And you, Berry? Let me guess. Your talent would be strength. Am I right?”

Barda shrugged and nodded. The woman beamed, and wrote again. Then she looked at Lief. “And Twig?” she enquired.

Lief felt his face growing hot and knew that he was blushing. What had possessed Barda to give him such an absurd name? And what was his special talent? He was not sure that he had one.

“Speed,” Barda said quickly. “My friend is very fast on his feet, and can jump, duck, and dodge with the best.”

“Perfect!” cried Mother Brightly, writing “SPEED” beside the name “Twig of Bushtown.” “Agility, strength, and speed. Why, together you three must be a fine team. Now, wait here a moment. I will not be long.”

She bustled out of the room again. The companions looked at one another. All of them were bewildered at this sudden change in their fortunes.

“No wonder people flock to Rithmere,” said Lief in a low voice. “It is surprising that the whole of Deltora is not here. Why, at the very least folk get free food and a bed for a while.”

“So long as they are willing to compete,” Barda whispered back. “I have a feeling that these Games may be more difficult, or more dangerous, than we expect.”

“No running or jumping race could be more dangerous than what we have been through,” hissed Jasmine. “The most difficult thing about this will be remembering to answer to those stupid names you chose for us, Barda.”

“Yes,” Lief agreed. “Twig! Could you think of nothing better?”

“I was taken by surprise and said the first things that came into my head,” Barda growled. “If I had hesitated she would have known I was lying.”

At that moment Mother Brightly came rustling into the room again. With her she brought three colored strips of cloth — a red, a green, and a blue. She tied the red band around Barda’s wrist, the green band around Lief’s wrist, and the blue around Jasmine’s. Their false names had been written on their bands, with their heights and weights underneath.

“Do not take your wristbands off, even to sleep,” Mother Brightly advised. “They mark you as official competitors, show your special talent, and entitle you to food, drink, and entrance to the Games. Now — you will want to eat, I do not doubt, and rest after your journey. The silver coin, if you please?”

Jasmine handed her the coin and in return received a key labelled with the number 77. “This is the key to your room,” Mother Brightly said. “A lucky number indeed. Keep it safe.”

As they nodded she hesitated, nibbling at her bottom lip as if trying to make up her mind about something. Then, suddenly, she glanced behind her to make sure they were alone and leaned towards them with a rustle of green frills.

“Now — I do not say this to every competitor, but you are strangers to the Games, and I have taken a liking to you,” she whispered. “Trust no one, however friendly.
And keep your door locked at all times — especially at night. We do not want any … accidents.”

She put a finger to her lips, then turned and hurried off again, beckoning them to follow.

Wondering, they followed her down a hallway to a large dining room, where a great number of people wearing red, blue, and green wristbands were eating and drinking with gusto. Many of the diners looked up and stared, their faces alive with curiosity, challenge, suspicion, or menace. Most of them were very large and looked extremely strong, though there were some smaller, leaner men and women as well.

Lief lifted his chin and looked around proudly, determined to show that he was not nervous or afraid. At a center table he saw Joanna and Orwen, the two tall companions he had seen on the highway. Then he gave a start. Sitting near to them, though alone, was another person he knew.

It was the dark, scarred traveller the companions had seen at Tom’s shop, on their way to the City of the Rats. The man’s hard eyes were fixed on the newcomers, but he gave no sign that he recognized them.

“Help yourselves to anything you fancy, my dears,” Mother Brightly said, pointing to a long bench at the side of the room where dishes stood keeping warm over low flames. “Eat, then rest. Do all you can to be fit for tomorrow. I have great hopes for you three! To me, you have the look of finalists. And I have seen many come and go.”

She had not troubled to lower her voice, and Lief fidgeted as the gazes of the other competitors grew even more alert. They had all heard what she had said.

“Now, I must return to my post,” Mother Brightly said. “It grows late, but new competitors could arrive even now. A bell will wake you for breakfast tomorrow. A second bell, an hour later, will call you to the Games.”

She turned to go. Suddenly unwilling to be left alone in the unfriendly room, Lief spoke to delay her. “Before you go, Mother Brightly, could you advise us on which events we should try for?” he asked.

The woman’s eyebrows rose as she stared at him. “But surely you know? You do not choose for yourselves who you will fight.”

“Fight?” Lief echoed faintly.

Mother Brightly nodded. “You fight those chosen for you — others who match your height, weight, and special talent,” she said. “At least at first. Of course, if you win your early rounds, you will at last fight competitors of all kinds.”

She clasped her hands. Her eyes were sparkling.

“Those events are always the most exciting of all. Agility against strength. Speed against agility. Wits against weight. Large against small. Sometimes the contests last for many hours. Two years ago there was a final that lasted a day and a night — ah, a bloody battle that was. The loser, poor fellow, lost his leg in the end, for it
was smashed to pieces. But of course he had his hundred gold coins as comfort. And it was wonderful entertainment, I assure you!”

She nodded to them happily and trotted off. The door clicked shut behind her.

T
he companions eyed one another in silence. “So,” said Barda at last. “Now we know why the whole of Deltora does not enter the Rithmere Games. Most people have no wish to be pounded into the ground for sport.”

Lief glanced at the place where the scar-faced man had been sitting, ready to point him out to Jasmine and Barda, but the chair was pushed back and empty. The man had gone.

“I think we should leave here,” he said slowly. “We cannot risk serious injury just to make money. We will have to get supplies another way.”

Jasmine shook her head. “I am not leaving until I eat,” she announced. “I am very hungry, and so is Filli.”

Barda and Lief looked at each other. The idea of food was very tempting. “Mother Brightly has our
silver coin,” Lief murmured. “It will surely pay for one meal.”

So it was decided. They helped themselves to food, heaping their plates high. Then they found a place to sit and began to eat gratefully. The food was very good. Jugs of Queen Bee Cider stood on the table, and they drank mug after mug of its bubbling sweetness.

Concentrating on their meal they spoke little to one another at first, and no one spoke to them. But Lief’s neck prickled, and he knew that dozens of pairs of eyes were still trained on him. The other competitors were trying to judge how dangerous an opponent he would be. You do not have to worry, he told them silently. Soon I will be gone.

The dining hall had almost emptied by the time they finished their meal. His hunger satisfied at last, Lief found that he was longing for sleep. Barda and Jasmine were also yawning, but they all knew that they could not stay in the inn. Unwillingly they rose to their feet and went to the door through which they had come, aware that their every step was being watched.

“I will be glad to be out of here, but I do not look forward to telling Mother Brightly that we have changed our minds,” Lief murmured uncomfortably.

Jasmine laughed. “Because she will be angry with us? What does it matter?”

Barda pushed at the door, but it did not budge. It seemed to be locked from the outside.

“Not that way,” a slow, deep voice said behind them. “The sleeping rooms and training areas are through there.” They turned and saw the huge figure of Orwen. He was pointing to another door at the end of the room.

“We do not want the sleeping rooms or the training areas,” Jasmine answered abruptly. “We want to leave the inn.”

Orwen gazed at her blankly for a moment. Then, finally, he shook his head. “You are competitors,” he said. “You cannot leave.”

Lief decided that the big man must be slow-witted. “We have changed our minds, Orwen,” he said gently. “We no longer wish to compete in the Games. We wish to leave Rithmere and go on our way.”

But again Orwen shook his head. “You cannot change your minds,” he said. “Your names are in the book. You have your wristbands. You have eaten and drunk in the dining hall. They will not let you leave.”

“Do you mean we are
prisoners
?” Barda demanded.

Orwen shrugged his great shoulders. “The rest of us wish to be here,” he said. “We do not think of ourselves as prisoners. But certainly we are not free to come and go as we please.”

With a nod of farewell, he turned and left them.

Angrily, Jasmine beat on the door with her fists. It shuddered and its frame rattled, but no one came.

“What shall we do now?” demanded Lief.

“We will go quietly to our room,” said Barda evenly. “Our minds are working slowly now, because we are tired. We will sleep, and when we wake we will find a way out, never fear.”

The room was silent and everyone was staring as they strode to the door at the back of the dining hall and went out. Signs directed them up some stairs to the sleeping quarters floor. Once there, they began to walk through a maze of door-lined hallways, looking for Room 77.

Rugs cushioned their feet and the hallways were well lit and silent, but as they walked, Lief began to feel more and more uncomfortable. Sudden draughts kept striking chill on his legs. The back of his neck was tingling. He was sure that doors were stealthily opening behind him and that unfriendly eyes were peering after him. Several times he spun around to try to catch the spies, but there was never anything to be seen.

“Just keep walking,” said Barda loudly. “Let the fools look. What does it matter to us?”

“Someone is following us, also,” Jasmine breathed. “I feel it. That woman should not have said what she did about us. I fear that someone has decided to put us out of the way before the Games even begin.”

Automatically, Lief’s hand moved to his sword, but of course the weapon was missing — locked away in Mother Brightly’s cupboard.

The numbers on the doors beside him were 65 and 66. Ahead there was a turn in the hallway. “Our room cannot be far away now,” he whispered. “Once we reach it we will be safe.”

They quickened their pace. In moments they had reached the turn in the hallway. They hurried around the corner and found themselves in a short, dead-end corridor. Seeing that Room 77 was right at the end, they began moving towards it.

Then the light went out.

Kree screeched a warning. In the blackness, Lief twisted and leaped sideways, flattening himself against the wall. He felt a glancing blow on his shoulder. He heard Barda shout. He heard a thump and a crash and an angry hiss of pain. There was a scrabbling, scuffling noise and the sound of running feet. Then silence.

“Lief! Barda!” It was Jasmine’s voice. “Are you —?”

Lief answered, and to his relief heard Barda mutter also. Then, as suddenly as it had gone out, the light went on again. Shading his eyes against the sudden glare, Lief blinked at Barda who was staggering to his feet, pulling a crumpled paper from his pocket.

Behind him stood Jasmine, her hair wildly tangled. Her left hand was held up protectively to where Filli hid under her jacket. In her right hand she held her second dagger — the one she usually kept hidden. Its tip was stained with red. She was frowning fiercely, looking back along the hallway. Lief followed her gaze and saw
that a trail of red drops marked the floor all the way to the corner.

“Good! I thought I had drawn blood, but I was not certain. That will teach them that we are not easy marks,” Jasmine hissed. “Cowards, to attack us from behind, in the dark!”

“They took our key,” said Barda grimly. “And they left this in its place.” He showed them the paper he was holding.

The companions looked around them. The hallway was silent. None of the doors had opened.

“Well?” Lief asked, after a moment. “What are we to do about this?”

But he already knew the answer. He could feel himself simmering with anger. He could see the fire in Jasmine’s eyes, and the stubborn set of Barda’s jaw.

“Whoever attacked us made a mistake,” Jasmine said, loudly enough for anyone listening to hear. “Whatever we may have thought before, we will certainly now not be running away from this contest.”

“And it will not be
we
who will regret it!” Barda added, just as loudly.

They walked slowly to the door marked 77. It opened when Barda turned the knob and they went into the small, neat room beyond.

It was light and bright, with a gaily colored rug on the floor, but the barred window made it look like a prison cell. The only pieces of furniture were three beds with bright red covers and a small, heavy cupboard.

“Whoever has taken our key thinks, perhaps, to make us lie awake all night, fearing attack,” muttered Lief.

“Then he is foolish,” Barda snapped. “We will sleep well. We will fear nothing.” He put his shoulder against the cupboard and pushed it against the door.

With relief they fell on their beds and slept. As Barda had predicted, they slept soundly. If there were any small sounds outside their door in the darkness of the night, they were not disturbed. They slept on, safe in the knowledge that no one could enter the room without waking them.

But, as Barda had said, they were very tired, and were thinking slowly. Focused on the danger of attack, they had forgotten one thing.

Just as a key can unlock a door, so it can lock it. When the wakening bell rang in the morning and
they moved the cupboard aside they found the door locked fast.

Their unknown enemy had found another way of seeing that they did not win in the Games. He had decided to prevent them attending the Games at all.