Leaving Zeean to write her letter to Marilen, Lindal to fume at the weakness that forced her to remain in bed, and Sharn still sleeping, Lief and Manus hurried downstairs to the library.
Lief went to the storeroom and quickly found the large, flat wooden box which held the original plans of the palace drawn by the builders of Raladin for King Brandon long ago. As he lifted the box from its high shelf and took it to a work table, he felt a pang.
Josef had often pointed out this box to him, plainly hoping that he would ask to see the plans. But Lief had never asked. He was bored by the whole idea. Josef had only managed to capture his interest once, when he told Lief that the palace had taken forty years to build.
‘Forty years!’ Lief had exclaimed.
‘Indeed!’ Josef had said, beaming. ‘Brandon moved in as soon as the ground floor was completed, but he did not live to see the work finished. His son, Lucan, had that honour. Now, if you would just lift the box down for me, I will show you …’
But Lief had hurriedly made excuses and left the library, promising to examine the plans another day.
Now, it seemed, that day had come. But Josef had not lived to see it.
Manus began taking out the ancient parchments one by one, exclaiming over them in awed fascination.
‘Look for secret spaces, especially in central rooms, Manus,’ said Lief. ‘Josef said the Sister was in “the centre”, “the heart”. He may just have meant the palace itself, in the centre of Del. But he could have meant that the Sister is hidden somewhere in the centre of the palace.’
Manus nodded vaguely, his eyes fixed on the plans.
Lief left him and went quickly to Josef’s room. He tapped the door lightly, looked in and was startled to find the room empty.
For a moment he simply stared in astonishment. Then he realised that Ranesh had almost certainly carried Josef to the chapel, where he could lie in state as befitted a Deltoran hero.
Fighting down the lump in his throat, Lief hurried to the desk. As he reached for the open Deltora Annals volume that Josef had pulled over his secret work, his eye was caught by the stack of paper tied with blue ribbon lying on the left of the desk.
He glanced at the top page.
So Josef had finished his book at last. Again the lump rose in Lief’s throat. He took a breath, and looked back at the heavy open volume in front of him.
It was Volume 1 of the Annals, where all the old folk tales were recorded. Lief’s heart lurched as he noted that it was open at the tale of the Four Sisters.
Sickened afresh at the thought of the gloating pleasure the Shadow Lord must have taken in naming his own vile creations after the sisters in the old Jalis tale, Lief lifted the book aside.
And there was nothing beneath it at all. Josef, or someone else, had moved or destroyed whatever had been there.
The disappointment was like a blow. But Lief was shamed to find that deep within him, below the disappointment and frustration, there was a tiny glow of relief. The room would have to be searched—every book and paper in it examined. But for now, the Sister’s hiding place remained unknown. He did not yet have to take another step towards the darkness.
He felt numb as he turned away from the desk and left the room.
Manus was still absorbed in the plans and Lief did not hail him. Instead, he walked rapidly to Paff’s chamber.
The door hung open, sagging on its hinges. Lief called softly, and went in. Gla-Thon was standing at the end of Paff’s bed, bow drawn.
‘Ah, Lief, it is you,’ Gla-Thon said, lowering her bow and moving aside.
Lief could see at once that Paff was much better. Her body had relaxed. Her eyes were closed in what seemed a natural sleep.
‘All the emeralds I had are beneath the covers, close to her heart,’ Gla-Thon whispered. ‘I put them there the moment I returned. And here is the message to be sent to Fa-Glin.’
She held out the note. Taking it with a nod of thanks, Lief approached the bed. It seemed to him that as he drew closer Paff stirred a little. He felt for the clasp of the Belt.
‘If we leave her to recover with the aid of my emeralds alone, we will learn much that will help in the treatment of others,’ Gla-Thon murmured. ‘It would be a very useful experiment.’
Lief hesitated, then shook his head. ‘Josef may have told her something,’ he said. ‘It is a small chance, perhaps, but the sooner she can speak, the sooner—’
He broke off and swung round as he heard the sound of running footsteps and voices outside in the library. He saw from the corner of his eye that Gla-Thon had raised her bow again.
Jasmine appeared at the door. Her face was deathly pale. Kree was fluttering on her arm, and Filli was whimpering piteously on her shoulder. Behind her Manus hovered, his small, blue-grey face creased in distress.
Lief’s heart began to pound. He strode to Jasmine and she reached out for him blindly, clutching the front of his jacket.
‘I went to the bird room,’ she said in a small, tight voice. ‘The guards were gone. And the birds … all the birds—’
‘Dead?’ Lief exclaimed.
‘Dead or—or dying,’ Jasmine whispered. ‘Lief, you must come. You must help me. If they cannot be cured, they must be put out of their misery. They—they are suffering.’
‘Stay with Paff!’ Lief called over his shoulder to Gla-Thon. And putting his arm around Jasmine, he hurried with her out of the room.
In the centre of the bird room was a living tree, its branches stretching almost to the high, netted roof. Bright sunlight filtered through the tree’s leaves, mercilessly lighting the scene below.
All the perches were empty. The straw that covered the floor was littered with black, feathered bodies, some fluttering and twitching horribly, some deathly still.
Kree hunched silently on Jasmine’s arm. His golden eyes looked glazed.
‘We will help them, Kree,’ Jasmine said. But her face was haunted as she gazed at the birds, many of which she had raised from chicks, and all of which she had trained.
‘Poison,’ Lief muttered, overturning the water trough by the door with his foot. ‘The guardian must have crept in here last night, as we approached Del and while the birds were still sleeping. No doubt the plan was to stop any messages being sent from Del.’
‘Where is the keeper of the birds?’ Jasmine hissed. ‘Where are the guards? Doom promised me the birds would be safe. He swore it!’
‘Doom cannot be everywhere,’ Lief said in a low voice, unclasping the Belt of Deltora. ‘And he has to sleep, like any mortal.’
He knelt by the nearest living bird, and gently pressed the emerald to its breast. Instantly the bird’s piteous struggles ceased. It opened its eyes and clucked feebly.
Jasmine made a small, choked sound. She fell to her knees and touched the bird’s head.
‘There, Blackwing,’ she crooned. ‘There …’
Quietly Lief moved on to the next fluttering body. Briefly he remembered Paff, then pushed the thought from his mind. Paff was recovering without his aid. If she had anything to tell, it would have to wait.
Half an hour later, the sun shone down on twelve occupied perches in the bird room. The dozen birds Lief had saved were ruffled and quiet, very aware of the empty spaces all around them.
‘Not one of them is strong enough to fly to Dread Mountain,’ Jasmine said in a low voice, as she and Lief stood watching the survivors.
Kree squawked and flapped his wings.
‘No, Kree!’ she exclaimed. ‘You have just flown from Tora. You must—’
Kree screeched, and snapped his beak. Clearly he was determined to go to Dread Mountain, whether Jasmine approved or not.
Lief held out the folded paper. Kree plucked it neatly from his hand and held it fast.
‘Go and bid him farewell, Jasmine,’ Lief said gently. ‘I will not leave the birds until you return.’
Jasmine took a deep breath, then nodded and left the room with Kree riding serenely on her arm.
Lief pushed his hands deep into his pockets and began slowly pacing the room, kicking at the straw with the toes of his boots. Around him, the recovering birds crooned and clucked.
He jumped violently as there was a noise behind him. He swung around, reaching for his sword, as the door of the room opened.
Barda walked in, grim-faced. Close behind him was a stocky guard with a balding head and an anxious expression that sat oddly on his red, good-natured face. Lief recognised him as Dunn, Barda’s new deputy. A red mask hung around Dunn’s neck, as though he had only recently pulled it down.
‘Manus told us what had happened,’ Barda said grimly. ‘We have discovered Jarvis, the keeper of the birds, dead in his bed. The bird room guards have been found further down the hallway here. They have not a mark on them, but they, too, are dead.’
‘Zon and Delta crawled away seeking help, no doubt, sir, and died where they fell,’ Dunn mumbled.
Barda’s lips tightened. ‘No doubt,’ he said curtly. ‘But that must have been well before dawn, for their bodies are already cold and stiffening. Why did you not discover before this that the bird room was unguarded?’
Dunn’s red face deepened to dull scarlet. ‘I have been forced to abandon inspections in this area, sir,’ he said. ‘We are short-handed, sir, because of the Toran Plague. And the bird room is very out of the way.’
‘That,’ said Barda through gritted teeth, ‘is exactly why inspections are needed here, Dunn. And how many times do I have to tell you? There is no plague! Stop using the cursed word!’
Dunn wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Indeed, you said there was no plague, only poison, sir,’ he muttered. ‘The guards on the city gates have been told, as you ordered, and all of us have removed our masks.’
Unhappily he fingered the red cloth around his neck. ‘But Zon and Delta are dead, sir, just like Airlie and Wax, the men who were at the entrance door last night. And none of them were poisoned, I will take my oath on it.’
He met Barda’s furious eyes, and glanced away quickly.
‘You left the strictest orders, sir, that no guard was to accept food or drink while on duty, for in the past guards have been given sleeping potions by enemies,’ he mumbled. ‘Zon and Delta were not the sort to disobey, and neither were Airlie and Wax. ‘
‘Nevertheless, somehow they all took poison,’ Barda said firmly. ‘Get that into your head, and make certain that the other men do the same.’
Dunn’s ears were very red. Plainly he thought Barda was wrong. He blinked rapidly, but said nothing.
Barda hesitated, then turned to Lief. ‘It is true, however,’ he said, looking directly into Lief’s eyes, ‘that those men were good soldiers. They would not have disobeyed my instruction unless … they had very good reason.’
Lief understood what Barda was telling him. He understood only too well. But the thought was hateful to him. His mind did not want to accept it.
Dunn was shifting from foot to foot.
‘Can I go now, sir?’ he asked nervously. ‘The men watching over Zon and Delta will be growing impatient, waiting for me.’
‘Be off, then,’ Barda sighed. ‘But Dunn, try to remember that you are my deputy now. Be considerate by all means, but do not fear the men’s displeasure or they will not respect you.’
Dunn ducked his head and hurried towards the door, pulling out a large white handkerchief to mop his brow.
‘He will have to be replaced,’ Barda muttered under his breath. ‘He is far too anxious to be liked to make a good leader of the guards.’
But Lief was not listening. He had darted forward and picked up something that had fallen from Dunn’s pocket when the man pulled out his handkerchief.
It was a folded yellow paper. Lief unfolded it and his stomach turned over.
‘Dunn!’ he shouted. ‘Where did you get this?’