Read Online Deltora Quest #8: Return to Deltora by Emily Rodda - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Emily Rodda
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power to give glimpses of the future, and to aid those with weak sight … The opal has a special relationship with the lapis lazuli, the heavenly stone, a powerful talisman.
Suddenly impatient, Lief snapped the book closed. Jasmine stirred, then abruptly her eyes opened.
“I am sorry —” Lief began. But she shook her head.
“Something is coming,” she hissed, sitting up. “A horse-drawn wagon. Travelling away from Del.”
Soon Lief himself could hear the sound of plodding hooves and rumbling wheels. He peered through the bushes and, to his amazement, saw Steven’s caravan trundling towards them. There was no jingling sound, for the bells had been taken from the horse’s reins.
Steven was singing, but very, very softly. No one but people very near the road could have heard him. As he came closer, Lief could hear that he was crooning the same verse over and over again.
Come out, Twig and Birdie-o!
Little creatures lying low?
Others rest, but we must go,
Twig and Birdie-o!
“It could be a trap,” Jasmine breathed. “He could be Ol.”
“I do not think so,” Lief whispered back. “He is calling us by the false names we used in Rithmere. Barda must have given them to him.”
“Glock knows them also!” Jasmine hissed. But already Lief was crawling out from the bushes. She sighed and clambered after him.
Steven saw them, smiled broadly, and stopped the caravan. “So there you are,” he said in a low voice, climbing down. “Into the back with Barda, quickly.”
“But this is not the plan!” Lief objected. “We are to meet with the others in the grove of trees outside the Del wall, just after dark. If we go with you now, we will arrive before sunset, and alone.”
“Indeed,” Steve nodded. “Barda will explain all to you. He and I have been talking. I opened a fresh jar of honey for him before we began our journey, and it seems to have done him good. See here!”
He flung the caravan doors wide. And there was Barda, sitting up and grinning.
“Barda! You are well!” Jasmine exclaimed.
Barda shrugged. “Not completely. I would not relish a fight with an Ol.” His grin broadened. “But I could certainly give a small pirate something to think about. Now, get in, quickly. We must be off.”
“Why?” demanded Lief, as he and Jasmine reluctantly obeyed.
“If we reach Del before sunset, Steven can drive straight in. He will look like any pedlar hurrying to reach home before the laws against being on the streets at night come into force,” Barda explained rapidly. “The gates are always crowded at that hour. The Guards will not bother to search the caravan. And standing with the other carts in the yard beside the market square, it will not be noticed. When it is dark, we can slip away.”
“But why change the plan?” Lief was confused.
A rueful expression crossed Barda’s face. “First, because the important thing is to get the Belt to Dain, wherever he may be imprisoned. The three of us, I believe, can do this better alone. Second —” He broke off.
“Second,” said Steven quietly, “we are both certain that there is a spy in our party. That spy may have a secret way of communicating with the Shadow Lord — a way no one would suspect. If so, our plan could already be known in Del. We could be moving into a trap. We cannot risk that. We cannot risk losing the Belt.”
“So we decided to go our own way,” said Barda. “Without telling another soul.”
“Not even Doom?” asked Jasmine, wide-eyed.
Again, Steven and Barda exchanged glances. “No,” said Steven soberly, closing the doors. “Not even Doom.”
A nother stuffy, jolting hour. Steven’s voice, singing softly, telling what he could see. Terrifying, tense minutes as the caravan slowed to join a line of carts passing through the city gates. The shouts of Guards. Then the sudden, achingly familiar sounds of Del. Wheels, bells, people shouting, jostling one another, bumping the sides of the caravan as it
Suddenly impatient, Lief snapped the book closed. Jasmine stirred, then abruptly her eyes opened.
“I am sorry —” Lief began. But she shook her head.
“Something is coming,” she hissed, sitting up. “A horse-drawn wagon. Travelling away from Del.”
Soon Lief himself could hear the sound of plodding hooves and rumbling wheels. He peered through the bushes and, to his amazement, saw Steven’s caravan trundling towards them. There was no jingling sound, for the bells had been taken from the horse’s reins.
Steven was singing, but very, very softly. No one but people very near the road could have heard him. As he came closer, Lief could hear that he was crooning the same verse over and over again.
Come out, Twig and Birdie-o!
Little creatures lying low?
Others rest, but we must go,
Twig and Birdie-o!
“It could be a trap,” Jasmine breathed. “He could be Ol.”
“I do not think so,” Lief whispered back. “He is calling us by the false names we used in Rithmere. Barda must have given them to him.”
“Glock knows them also!” Jasmine hissed. But already Lief was crawling out from the bushes. She sighed and clambered after him.
Steven saw them, smiled broadly, and stopped the caravan. “So there you are,” he said in a low voice, climbing down. “Into the back with Barda, quickly.”
“But this is not the plan!” Lief objected. “We are to meet with the others in the grove of trees outside the Del wall, just after dark. If we go with you now, we will arrive before sunset, and alone.”
“Indeed,” Steve nodded. “Barda will explain all to you. He and I have been talking. I opened a fresh jar of honey for him before we began our journey, and it seems to have done him good. See here!”
He flung the caravan doors wide. And there was Barda, sitting up and grinning.
“Barda! You are well!” Jasmine exclaimed.
Barda shrugged. “Not completely. I would not relish a fight with an Ol.” His grin broadened. “But I could certainly give a small pirate something to think about. Now, get in, quickly. We must be off.”
“Why?” demanded Lief, as he and Jasmine reluctantly obeyed.
“If we reach Del before sunset, Steven can drive straight in. He will look like any pedlar hurrying to reach home before the laws against being on the streets at night come into force,” Barda explained rapidly. “The gates are always crowded at that hour. The Guards will not bother to search the caravan. And standing with the other carts in the yard beside the market square, it will not be noticed. When it is dark, we can slip away.”
“But why change the plan?” Lief was confused.
A rueful expression crossed Barda’s face. “First, because the important thing is to get the Belt to Dain, wherever he may be imprisoned. The three of us, I believe, can do this better alone. Second —” He broke off.
“Second,” said Steven quietly, “we are both certain that there is a spy in our party. That spy may have a secret way of communicating with the Shadow Lord — a way no one would suspect. If so, our plan could already be known in Del. We could be moving into a trap. We cannot risk that. We cannot risk losing the Belt.”
“So we decided to go our own way,” said Barda. “Without telling another soul.”
“Not even Doom?” asked Jasmine, wide-eyed.
Again, Steven and Barda exchanged glances. “No,” said Steven soberly, closing the doors. “Not even Doom.”
A nother stuffy, jolting hour. Steven’s voice, singing softly, telling what he could see. Terrifying, tense minutes as the caravan slowed to join a line of carts passing through the city gates. The shouts of Guards. Then the sudden, achingly familiar sounds of Del. Wheels, bells, people shouting, jostling one another, bumping the sides of the caravan as it
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