Groaning, Lief stirred. There was a sweet taste on his lips, and he could hear a crackling sound, a tearing, chewing sound, and shouting, very far away.
He opened his eyes. Jasmine and Barda were leaning over him, calling his name. Jasmine was screwing the top back onto a small jar attached to a chain around her neck. Dimly, Lief realized that he had been given nectar from the Lilies of Life. It had saved him — perhaps brought him back to life as once it had done for Barda.
“I — I am well,” he mumbled, struggling to sit up. He looked around. The hall was filled with flickering shadows. Flames, begun and spread by the blazing fire beads, roared in the ancient rafters. The giant snake lay dead on the floor, its body covered by gnawing rats. More rats were streaming from the walls and through the doorway, fighting one another to reach the feast.
For hundreds of years it has eaten them, thought Lief, dazed. Now they are eating it. Even fear of fire will not stop them.
“We must get out! Out!” Barda was shouting.
Lief felt himself pulled to his feet and slung over Barda’s shoulder. His head was spinning. He wanted to cry out, “What of the crown? The opal?”
But then he saw that the crown was in Barda’s hand.
Limp as a doll, he was carried through burning hallways. Jolting on Barda’s back, he closed his stinging eyes against the smoke.
When he looked again, they were staggering through the city gateway onto the dark plain and Kree, squawking anxiously, was soaring to meet them. There was a tremendous crash from behind them. The roof of the city had begun to fall.
On they went, and on, till they had nearly reached the river.
“I can walk,” Lief managed to croak. Barda stopped and put him gently on the ground. His legs trembled, but he stood upright, turning to look at the burning city.
“I never thought I’d see you stand on your own two feet again, my friend,” Barda said cheerfully. “That fall Jasmine gave you was —”
“It was let him fall or see him disappear into the snake’s belly,” exclaimed Jasmine. “Which do you think was better?”
She handed Lief’s sword to him. It gleamed in the moonlight, its blade still dark with Reeah’s blood.
“Jasmine —” Lief began. But she shrugged and turned away, pretending to be busy coaxing Filli out onto her shoulder. He saw that she was embarrassed at the idea that he would try to thank her for saving his life.
“Do you think it is safe to rest here?” he asked instead. “Having recently had every bone in my body broken, I do not think I could face crossing the river yet.”
Barda nodded. “Quite safe, I think. For a while, at least, there will be no rats here.” Then his teeth gleamed as he grinned and brushed his hands from shoulder to hip. “Noradzeer,” he added.
“Lief, how did you know, before the snake told you, that the people of Noradz had once lived in the City of the Rats?” Jasmine demanded.
“There were many clues,” Lief said tiredly. “But, perhaps, I would not have seen the connection if I had not found this.” He pulled the tarnished goblet from his Belt and held it out to them.
“Why, it is a pair to the goblet that held the Life and Death cards — the sacred Cup of Noradz,” said Barda, taking it in his hands and looking at it with wonder. “It must have been dropped and left behind when the people fled the city.”
Lief smiled as Filli’s small black nose peeped over Jasmine’s collar to see what was happening.
“No wonder Filli frightened the people in Noradz,” he said.
“He looks nothing like a rat!” Jasmine exclaimed indignantly.
“They hate anything small with fur. It must be a fear taught to them from their earliest days,” said Barda.
Lief nodded. “Like the fear of dropping food on the ground, or leaving dishes uncovered, because such things once attracted rats in the hundreds. Or the fear of eating food that has been spoiled, as it often was in the days of the plague. The need for such great care passed hundreds of years ago. But the Ra-Kacharz have seen to it that the fear remains, and keeps the people in bondage to them — and to the Shadow Lord.”
Lief was speaking lightly and idly, to blot from his mind the horrible things that had just happened to him. But Jasmine looked at him seriously, her head to one side.
“Plainly, then, it is quite possible for a people to forget their history, and to follow foolish rules out of duty, if they are born to it,” she said. “I would not have believed it. But now I have seen it with my own eyes.”
Lief realized that this was her way of saying that she was beginning to think that the kings and queens of Deltora had been less to blame than she had thought. Of this, he was very glad.
“Mind you,” Jasmine added quickly, as he smiled, “there is always a choice, and bonds can be broken. The girl Tira helped us, though she feared.” She paused. “One day, I hope, we can go back for her and set her free. Make them all free, if they wish it.”
“This is our best chance of doing so.” Lief unfastened the Belt and laid it before him on the hard ground of the plain. Then Barda handed him the crown that held the great opal.
As it neared the Belt, the opal fell from the crown into Lief’s hand. His mind was suddenly filled with a vision of sandy wastes, of lowering, clouded skies. He saw himself, alone, among rippling dunes that had no ending. And he felt terror lurking, unseen. He gasped in horror.
He looked up and saw Jasmine and Barda watching him anxiously. He closed his trembling hand more tightly around the gem.
“I had forgotten,” he said huskily, trying to smile. “The opal gives glimpses of the future. It seems that this may not always be a blessing.”
Fearing that they might ask him what he had seen, he bent to fit the stone into the Belt. Under his fingers, its rainbow colors seemed to flash and burn like fire. Abruptly, his racing heart quietened, the fear faded, and a tingling warmth took its place.
“The opal is also the symbol of hope,” Barda murmured, watching him.
Lief nodded, pressing his hand over the dancing colors, feeling the gem’s power flood through him. And when finally he looked up, his face was at peace.
“So now we have the topaz for faith, the ruby for happiness, and the opal for hope,” he said quietly. “What will be next?”
Jasmine held up her arm to Kree, who fluttered down to her with a glad screech. “Whatever the fourth stone is, surely it will not lead us into worse danger than the other three.”
“And if it does?” Barda teased.
She shrugged. “We will face what comes,” she said simply.
Lief lifted the Belt from the ground and fastened it around his waist. It warmed against his skin — solid, safe, and a little heavier than before. Faith, happiness, hope, he thought, and his heart swelled with all three.
“Yes,” he said. “We will face what comes. Together.”