Read Online Deltora Quest #2: The Lake of Tears by Emily Rodda - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Emily Rodda
Ads: Link
three companions went after him, shivering as icy water drenched them. There was darkness beyond — first the darkness of a cave, and then the greater darkness of a tunnel. And finally there was a soft glow in the distance that grew brighter and brighter as they moved towards it.
Then they were climbing through an opening on the other side of the hill, blinking in the sunlight. A pebbled path ran down from the opening to a beautiful village of small, round houses, workshops, and halls, all simply but craftily made of curved, baked earth bricks. The buildings surrounded a square paved with large, flat stones. In the center of the square a fountainsplashed, its clear, running water sparkling in the sunlight.
But there were no lights in the houses. Spiders had spun thick webs over the windows. The doors hung open, creaking as they swung to and fro in the gentle breeze.
And there was no other movement. None at all.
T hey trudged down the pebbled path to the village and began searching for signs of life. Lief and Jasmine looked carefully and slowly, their hearts growing heavier by the moment. Manus ran desperately into one house after another, with Barda pacing grimly behind him.
Every house was deserted. What had not been taken from inside had been destroyed.
When finally they met by the fountain in the square, the Ralad man’s face was lined with grief.
“Manus thinks that his people have been taken to the Shadowlands, or are dead,” Barda murmured.
“They may simply have moved away from here, Manus,” said Lief. “They may have escaped.”
The Ralad man shook his head vigorously.
“They would never have left Raladin willingly,” said Barda. “It has always been their place.”
He pointed at the piles of rubbish and the ashes of fires that dotted the streets and the square. “Grey Guards’ leavings,” he said, curling his lip in disgust. “They must have been using the village as a resting place for some time. And see how thickly the spiderweb coats the windows. I would say that Raladin has been empty for a year or more.”
Manus slumped onto the edge of the fountain. His feet kicked against something caught between a paving stone and the fountain edge. He bent and picked it up. It was a long flute, carved from wood. He cradled it in his arms and bowed his head.
“What are we to do?” whispered Lief, watching him.
Jasmine shrugged. “Rest for a day, then move on,” she said. “We are not far now from the Lake of Tears. Manus will guide us the rest of the way, I am sure. There is nothing to keep him here.”
Her voice was flat and cold, but this time Lief was not deceived into thinking that she cared nothing for the Ralad man. He knew now how well she cloaked her feelings.
Suddenly, a beautiful, clear sound filled the air. Startled, Lief looked up.
Manus had put the flute to his lips and was playing. His eyes were closed, and he was swaying from side to side.
Lief stood, spellbound, as the pure, running notes filled his ears and his mind. It was the most exquisitemusic he had ever heard, and the most heart-breaking. It was as though all the feelings of grief and loss that Manus could not speak aloud were pouring through the flute, straight from his heart.
Lief’s eyes stung with tears. In Del he had never cried, fearing to be thought unmanly. But here and now, he felt no shame.
He could feel Barda, motionless beside him. He could see Jasmine nearby, her green eyes dark with pity. Filli was sitting bolt upright in Jasmine’s arms, staring at Manus in wonder, and Kree was perched on her shoulder, still as a statue. All of them were caught and held, as he was, by the sound of Manus mourning his lost people.
Just then, behind Jasmine, in the corner of the square, Lief saw something move. He blinked furiously, thinking at first that his wet eyes were playing tricks. But there was no mistake. One of the huge paving stones was tilting!
He made a choking sound as a cry of alarm stuck in his
Then they were climbing through an opening on the other side of the hill, blinking in the sunlight. A pebbled path ran down from the opening to a beautiful village of small, round houses, workshops, and halls, all simply but craftily made of curved, baked earth bricks. The buildings surrounded a square paved with large, flat stones. In the center of the square a fountainsplashed, its clear, running water sparkling in the sunlight.
But there were no lights in the houses. Spiders had spun thick webs over the windows. The doors hung open, creaking as they swung to and fro in the gentle breeze.
And there was no other movement. None at all.
T hey trudged down the pebbled path to the village and began searching for signs of life. Lief and Jasmine looked carefully and slowly, their hearts growing heavier by the moment. Manus ran desperately into one house after another, with Barda pacing grimly behind him.
Every house was deserted. What had not been taken from inside had been destroyed.
When finally they met by the fountain in the square, the Ralad man’s face was lined with grief.
“Manus thinks that his people have been taken to the Shadowlands, or are dead,” Barda murmured.
“They may simply have moved away from here, Manus,” said Lief. “They may have escaped.”
The Ralad man shook his head vigorously.
“They would never have left Raladin willingly,” said Barda. “It has always been their place.”
He pointed at the piles of rubbish and the ashes of fires that dotted the streets and the square. “Grey Guards’ leavings,” he said, curling his lip in disgust. “They must have been using the village as a resting place for some time. And see how thickly the spiderweb coats the windows. I would say that Raladin has been empty for a year or more.”
Manus slumped onto the edge of the fountain. His feet kicked against something caught between a paving stone and the fountain edge. He bent and picked it up. It was a long flute, carved from wood. He cradled it in his arms and bowed his head.
“What are we to do?” whispered Lief, watching him.
Jasmine shrugged. “Rest for a day, then move on,” she said. “We are not far now from the Lake of Tears. Manus will guide us the rest of the way, I am sure. There is nothing to keep him here.”
Her voice was flat and cold, but this time Lief was not deceived into thinking that she cared nothing for the Ralad man. He knew now how well she cloaked her feelings.
Suddenly, a beautiful, clear sound filled the air. Startled, Lief looked up.
Manus had put the flute to his lips and was playing. His eyes were closed, and he was swaying from side to side.
Lief stood, spellbound, as the pure, running notes filled his ears and his mind. It was the most exquisitemusic he had ever heard, and the most heart-breaking. It was as though all the feelings of grief and loss that Manus could not speak aloud were pouring through the flute, straight from his heart.
Lief’s eyes stung with tears. In Del he had never cried, fearing to be thought unmanly. But here and now, he felt no shame.
He could feel Barda, motionless beside him. He could see Jasmine nearby, her green eyes dark with pity. Filli was sitting bolt upright in Jasmine’s arms, staring at Manus in wonder, and Kree was perched on her shoulder, still as a statue. All of them were caught and held, as he was, by the sound of Manus mourning his lost people.
Just then, behind Jasmine, in the corner of the square, Lief saw something move. He blinked furiously, thinking at first that his wet eyes were playing tricks. But there was no mistake. One of the huge paving stones was tilting!
He made a choking sound as a cry of alarm stuck in his
Similar Books
