4 -By Order of the King
By the time Jasmine reached the great stairway, she had made up her mind. She could stay in the palace no longer.
‘We will go back to the Forests where we belong,’ she murmured to Filli and Kree. ‘I am tired of palaces, and rules—and kings.’
There was a tightness in her chest and a dull ache in the pit of her stomach as she began to climb the stairs.
Something stopped her and she looked down to see a thick silver rope strung across the stairway. She had been so lost in thought that she had gone past the second floor where the bed chambers were.
Ahead was the library floor—forbidden to all except Lief, Doom and Sharn.
The very sight of the rope barrier annoyed Jasmine. On a sudden, defiant impulse, she crawled under it. If Jinks could disobey the rule, then so could she
At the top of the stairs was a large, square space. Two huge palace guards sat against the far wall. Half-finished mugs of ale stood on a table between them.
Jasmine half-turned, ready to retreat. But the men did not move or speak. They were asleep.
Jasmine smiled wryly. No doubt the ale was a gift from Jinks. This was how he had ‘arranged’ to steal Lief’s parchment.
She looked around. To her left was a high, arched door marked ‘LIBRARY’. But to her right, a broad hallway led towards the back of the palace. It was barred by yet another silver rope.
So this floor held more secrets than the library. What secrets?
Kree fluttered anxiously as Jasmine crept past the guards, ducked under the rope and moved swiftly into the dimness of the hallway. He had never trusted this shadowy palace, where trees did not grow and the sky could be seen only through windows. And here he felt especially uneasy.
At first, Jasmine found the hallway disappointing. There were storerooms on the right-hand side. All were filled with books and papers except the last, which was blackened and empty. There had plainly been a fire there long ago.
That was no loss, I am sure, Jasmine thought bitterly. There are more than enough old books in this place.
The wall on her left seemed totally blank. But at the very end, she found something strange.
An archway opened onto a short corridor. But the corridor ended in a wall of roughly-laid bricks, upon which there was a notice. Jasmine felt a strange tingle of excitement. She ran to the wall and slowly spelled out the words on the notice.
So. Here was another of Lief’s kingly secrets.
Obeying an urge she could not explain, Jasmine pressed her ear against the bricks.
Thump! Thump!
The sound was coming from the other side of the wall! Jasmine closed her eyes, listening intently.
The muffled throbbing grew stronger, stronger, pounding like a great heartbeat. The rough bricks grew warm under Jasmine’s cheek. The sound filled her mind, vibrated through her body.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The notice fell down. Tiny pieces of mortar began dropping from between the bricks, pattering to the floor like hailstones. The bricks grew hotter, hotter…
Suddenly, Jasmine’s need to reach the source of the sound became overwhelming. Forgetting all about the sleeping guards and the need for silence, she beat the wall with her fists.
The bricks seemed to tremble. Mortar showered from between them, falling onto Jasmine’s feet.
Kree clucked warningly. Filli squeaked in fright.
‘It is all right,’ Jasmine soothed. But she was trembling as she pulled out her dagger and began to scrape more of the crumbling mortar away.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The bricks shuddered, moving in their places with harsh, clinking sounds. Jasmine staggered back as one came free and fell to the floor. Behind the hole it had left was a heavy brass doorknob.
Lief and the Belt have gone. Now is our chance. Come to me…
The thought was clear, so clear. Like a voice. The summons was urgent. It could not be denied.
More mortar was falling by the moment. Jasmine put away her dagger and began tearing at the bricks, pulling out one, then another. Now she could see the deeply carved wood that surrounded the doorknob. The gap in the wall was just big enough for her to crawl through.
Come tome…
Jasmine twisted the doorknob. The door swung smoothly open. Ignoring Kree’s warning cry, she squeezed through the hole into the room beyond.
When she was inside, she stood, staring.
What was this place? It was quite different from anything else she had seen in the palace. The walls were smooth, white and gleaming, and so was the floor. There were no windows, yet there was light—harsh, white light that hurt her eyes.
Suddenly she knew without question that she should not be here. Filli whimpered. Kree shrieked a warning from the hallway. Jasmine spun around, but already the door was closing behind her. Before she could reach it, it had shut with a small, final click.
Thump! Thump!
Jasmine froze. The sound was deep, throbbing and loud—so loud it drowned out every thought. Slowly she turned away from the door.
The sound was coming from the centre of the room. From something that was shrouded in a heavy black cloth. Drawn by a force she had no will to resist, Jasmine stumbled towards the black shape, stretched out her hand, and pulled the cloth away.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Underneath the cloth was a small table. Its surface was thick, curved glass, rippling like water. Jasmine stared. The sound filled her body and her mind. The moving surface seemed to draw her. She bent over it, staring into its transparent depths.
Slowly the throbbing sound died away. The ripples began to swirl and colour, becoming grey as smoke with rims of red. In the centre of the ripples was a core of darkness.
‘Jasmine! It is you!’
The voice drifted from the swirling darkness—young, sweet and warm.
Jasmine caught her breath. ‘Who are you?’ she whispered. ‘How do you know my name?’
‘I knew you would hear me, Jasmine,’ sighed the voice. ‘I called and called.’
‘Who are you? Where are you?’ Jasmine bent low over the table, straining to see beyond the darkness.
‘Where I was born,’ sighed the voice. ‘The other slaves grieve for Deltora, but I have known no home but this.’
Jasmine gripped the edge of the table to steady herself. ‘The Shadowlands,’ she murmured.
‘Yes,’ whispered the voice. ‘Yes, of course, but I must make haste. If I am discovered using the crystal…’
There was a choking sob. Then the voice began again, though more unsteadily than before.
‘I must not cry. I must be brave, as you are, Jasmine. Our mother told me that. She said that in the Forests you feared nothing. You—’
Jasmine’s heart seemed to stop. ‘What did you say?’ she breathed. ‘Our mother?’
The young voice ran on, the words tumbling over one another.
‘Mother said you would help us. Before she died, she told me. She said that I must somehow reach the crystal, and call you. She said I would know when it was time. And I did, Jasmine! I did!’
Jasmine was panting as though she had been running. ‘How did you know?’ she whispered.
‘Red clouds swirled back over the mountains. There was thunder, and terrible anger. The creatures moaned and gnashed their teeth.’
‘Wait…’ Jasmine begged wildly. ‘Tell me—’
But the voice was excited now. ‘I knew what the anger meant. You defeated the Shadow Lord, didn’t you, Jasmine? You—and the other, the son of our father’s friend. The one who will not listen to me. Who sealed away the crystal, so you could not hear me…’
‘Lief,’ said Jasmine through lips that were stiff, and hard to move.
‘Yes. He does not want you to know me. He fears the Shadow Lord. But I did not give up hope. Mother said you would not know you had a sister, for I was just beginning when she was taken from the Forests, but I should tell you…’
Jasmine tore herself away from the table, her head reeling. She could not take this in.
‘Jasmine, are you still there?’ The young voice was suddenly sharp with panic.
Jasmine took a deep, shuddering breath. She leaned forward and looked into the swirling, smoky surface of the table once more.
She concentrated—searching, searching—and then, deep in the black core, she saw a face—a girl child’s face, surrounded by a tangled mass of black hair. Pointed chin, wide, frightened green eyes… It was like looking in a mirror, but a mirror that reflected her own image as it was years ago.
‘I am here,’ Jasmine said huskily.
‘You must hurry,’ the girl whispered. ‘We are to be put to death, all of us, very soon. The Shadow Lord has decreed it. It is revenge for what you and the ones called Lief and Barda did to him. Please—oh!’
The image in the blackness wavered and faded
‘I must go,’ the voice said rapidly. ‘I hear them.’
‘Wait! What is your name?’ Jasmine called.
‘Faith. My name is Faith.’ The voice was very faint now. The image had disappeared, overcome by swirling greyness, which was itself fading away.
‘I will find you, Faith!’ Jasmine shouted desperately. ‘Do not despair! I will find you!’
Jasmine was still shaking as she ran down the stairs to the ground floor and began pushing through the crowd.
People stared as she passed. Some called to her, but she did not hear. A dark, clever-faced man caught her arm. She shook off his hand, and hurried on.
She reached the doors and saw that the crowd had spilled onto the steps and down into the garden. She ran towards the gates and out into the road beyond.
She had to find a peaceful place where she could think clearly. But where could she go?
Then an idea came to her. Lief’s old home—the blacksmith’s forge! It was not far from the palace, and it would offer the peace she needed.
She set off, moving swiftly through the long grass at the side of the road. Her shocked mind was seething with wild plans. So it was that she did not hear the furtive footsteps behind her, or feel the eyes of the one who was following.