Cavern Of Fear

12 - Mysteries

Barda bent over the hole, roaring furiously. But Lief, rapidly disappearing into the gloom, merely shouted to him to follow. Fury plainly had no intention of returning to ground level either. The chain around Barda’s wrist was pulling violently.

There was only one thing to do. Barda scrambled into the hole himself, cursing under his breath. What was the boy doing? What had he seen in this foul burrow?

Dirt and rotted leaves showered his face as he lowered himself through the earth, clinging to the tree roots that netted the sides of the hole. His feet scrabbled for footholds. His hands ached. When he looked up, he could see only a faint glimmer of light.

‘Take care!’ Lief’s muffled voice floated upwards.

‘You are a fine one to speak of taking care!’ Barda shouted back.

A moment later, his feet broke into open space. He kicked out wildly, searching for a foothold. Something grabbed his ankles, and he yelled.

‘I have you!’ Lief called. ‘Wait!’

With relief, Barda felt his feet guided to a firm surface. Slowly he lowered himself out of the tunnel.

The first thing he saw was Lief’s face, wild with excitement and streaked with dirt. Then he moved his eyes downward. And stared.

He was looking down at a vast space filled with thousands of huge grey poles that stretched from floor to ceiling. A gurgling stream lined with pale ferns wound its way through the poles, disappearing into the dimness.

Then he realised what he was seeing, and his jaw dropped.

‘Why, they are giant trees!’ he breathed. ‘This is a forest! A forest beneath a forest! How could this be?’

‘I think the vine weaver birds must have caused it,’ said Lief, touching the matted web of branches and vines above his head. ‘Once they lived in the tops of these trees, weaving their nests and eating berries. Over time, the forest canopy became so thick and tangled that it was almost solid. The berries the birds dropped did not fall to the ground, but were caught in old nests, and the forks of branches.’

‘So the seeds took root, watered by the rain and young trees grew on top of the old,’ said Barda. ‘And after hundreds of years…’

‘After hundreds of years,’ Lief finished for him, ‘there was no sign of the old forest left. No sign of the valley in which it grew. Only the trees, the moths and the birds above knew the secret.’

Barda became aware that Fury was tugging once more on her chain. She had moved down the tree as far as she could, and was now rearing and scrabbling in frustration because she could go no further.

‘We still do not know if Jasmine and Glock are here, or just Glock’s spider,’ he said.

Lief grinned. ‘What trees and birds know, Jasmine soon knows also,’ he said. ‘She and Glock have found this place, there is no doubt. Look!’

He pointed. And there, tied around the trunk of the tree and dangling almost to the ground, was a rope.

It did not take long for Lief and Barda to reach the ground using the rope, but even this small delay drove Fury to distraction. The moment she was free to do so, she set off at a great pace along the stream.

This time, Lief and Barda hardly needed her to show them the way to go. The ground was almost covered by fragile white fungus and patches of brittle fern. The tracks of two people were plainly visible—one set of heavy, large prints, one set of lighter, smaller ones.

The air was heavy with the smell of earth and mould. There was no sound but the gurgling of the stream. The trees rose silent and ghostly around them, their trunks blotched with tongues of yellow fungus from which hung squirming bundles of fat caterpillars. Clearly the moths from the forest above used the hidden valley as a safe nesting place.

Now and then Lief or Barda called Jasmine’s name, but no answering cry reached their ears. Slowly a feeling of dread began to grow in Lief. Were they too late? Words from The Girl with the Golden Hair echoed in his mind.

‘Dragons have been extinct in Deltora for hundreds of years,’ said Barda, as if reading his mind. ‘If there is a dragon’s lair in this valley, it is empty. The forest would never have been covered over if this was not so. The dragon would have kept the canopy open, by flying out to hunt every day.’

‘And the goblins?’ muttered Lief. ‘Are they extinct also?’

‘If they ever existed,’ said Barda. ‘My mother used to tell a story of seven goblins who prowled the countryside north of Del. But the tale always began, “Once upon a time”, as fairy stories do.’

‘I have heard Glock claim that one of his ancestors fought and killed a goblin,’ said Lief.

Barda snorted. ‘I have heard Glock claim many things,’ he said.

They rounded a bend in the stream and saw ahead of them a rocky cliff, rising behind the trees like a wall. The stream ended in a small, deep pool at its foot.

‘We have reached the forest’s edge,’ whispered Barda. ‘This must be the base of one of the hills we saw when we looked down from the other side.’

Lief nodded, his skin prickling as he saw that the footprint trail led away from the stream, and into a vast, dark cave in the cliff.

Fury dashed ahead of them as they crept towards the cave’s entrance. It was heavily fringed with ferns, and somehow this made it look even more like a gaping, toothless mouth. Inside, it was black as night and silent as the grave.

‘Lief,’ Barda breathed. “The ruby…’

Reluctantly Lief pulled his cloak aside to reveal the jewelled belt. The rich red of the ruby seemed only a little dimmer.

‘If there is danger, it is slight,’ Barda said, visibly relaxing.

Lief wet his lips. ‘I think we should still take care,’ he said slowly. “The belt may not be as powerful here as it is on the surface. And look at Fury.’

Barda glanced downward. The huge spider was standing motionless and wary at his feet.

They lit a torch. Then, shoulder to shoulder, swords drawn, they moved into the cave.

The torch lit the ground immediately ahead, but thick darkness surrounded its warm, flickering glow. It was as though they were floating through a black sea in a small bubble of light.

Lief felt as though he was moving in a dream. The air was heavy and warm. And slowly, slowly, a strange, musky smell was growing in strength.

“There is something alive in here,’ he breathed.

As he spoke, the torchlight flickered on something ahead. Something huge.

Scales gleamed golden amid dancing shadows. Teeth and claws glimmered white. A tail lay coiled, thick with spines as sharp as needles. Folded leathery wings netted with spider webs trailed in the dust.

Dragon!

A deep, ancient dread welled up in Lief, turning his legs to jelly. He heard Barda draw a quick breath.

The dragon did not stir. All that moved was the torchlight flickering over its huge form.

‘Its eyes are shut. It is asleep—or dead,’ Barda hissed.

‘Not dead, I think,’ said Lief, struggling to calm himself. ‘But not asleep either, or it would have sensed us and woken. This is some sort of enchantment.’

Fury began to creep to the left. As Lief and Barda went after her, the torchlight began to flicker on the cave’s rocky wall. Soon they saw that there was a narrow space between the wall and the dragon’s head.

This then, was to be their path. Already Fury was crawling doggedly through the gap. Taking a deep breath, Barda moved after her, looking straight ahead.

Lief began to follow. He knew that he, too, should keep his eyes to the front, but he could not. He turned and gazed, fascinated, at the terrible head, so near that he had only to stretch out his hand to touch it. And as he stared, the dragon’s great, golden eye opened.

Lief froze. His mind went blank. There was no fear, no hope, no thought. There was only the dragon’s eye, and his own face mirrored there—pale, weak and small, floating in a cold, flat sea that was gold as the topaz in the Belt of Deltora, deep with ancient memory.

For a long moment the eye held him. Then, slowly, it closed once more.

Released, almost sick with shock, Lief lurched on to where Barda was waiting for him.

‘Why did you stop?’ Barda whispered. ‘Are you mad, Lief, that you would risk—?’

Lief brushed past blindly. Blackness yawned ahead, but that was better than what lay behind him. Cool air fanned his face, chilling the sweat on his brow. All he could think of was to get away—hide himself.

He heard Barda hurrying after him, felt Barda trying to hold him back. There was another gust of cold air. The torch flared and went out.

Lief stumbled, righted himself, and stepped forward into—thin air. There was a split second of disbelief. And then he was falling, dragging Barda with him, plunging down, down into darkness.