Ilse Of Illusion

12 - Suspicion

It did not take long for Lief to explain the plan that had suddenly come to him. ‘You see?’ he finished triumphantly. ‘We do not use our weaknesses, but our strengths!’

‘It is—incredible!’ the Piper exclaimed, his cold eyes shining. ‘It would never have crossed my mind that such a thing could be done.’

‘I am not surprised. A more hare-brained idea I have never heard!’ snorted Barda.

‘We can do it!’ Lief urged.

‘We can try. And it is worth the chance,’ said Jasmine. ‘Unless, of course,’ she added dryly, ‘the Piper is wrong, and the mouthpiece of the Pirran Pipe will not allow us to penetrate the dome.’

Penn buried her face in her hands. The Piper gripped her arm. ‘You must not weaken now, Penn,’ Lief heard him muttering. ‘They can do what we cannot. They could be our salvation!’

He turned to Lief, his hard, ancient face wearing a mild expression that Lief could not quite believe in.

‘We will give you what help we can,’ he said. ‘If you gain the stem of the Pirran Pipe, it will be yours to keep for as long as you need it. All we ask in return is that you use your best efforts to convince the dome-dwellers to return the light to the caverns.’

It will be yours to keep for as long as you need it …

Those words were carefully chosen, Piper, Lief thought, studying the cold face. You speak the truth, I am sure. But for how long will we need the stem of the Pipe, once it is actually out of the dome? Once it is where you can lay your hands on it? No-one needs anything after they are dead. Is that your plan?

He moved his gaze to Penn’s bent head. The Piper told Penn to make friends with us, he thought. So that we would want to help her people as well as ourselves. And of course she succeeded. In spite of herself.

Penn had carried out her orders reluctantly. That had been plain from the start. Perhaps she did not believe that the dome could be penetrated by the mouthpiece of the Pipe, and feared encouraging the visitors to go to their deaths.

Or perhaps Penn knew very well that once they had gained the Pipe, they would be betrayed.

‘Please do not blame yourself for our decision, Penn,’ he said aloud. ‘We are doing only what we must.’

Penn did not raise her head.

‘You accept my terms, then?’ the Piper asked.

Lief met his eyes squarely. ‘We will do all we can to help you once we are inside the dome, Piper. We cannot promise success. But I swear that we will beg the dome-dwellers to return your light as earnestly as we beg them for the stem of the Pirran Pipe.’

The Piper bent his head. ‘I ask no more of you than that,’ he murmured. He remained utterly still for a few moments, as though in the grip of strong feeling. Then he looked up, his face calm again

‘You must dry yourselves, and rest,’ he said. ‘I will have a boat prepared. Penn? A moment, if you please.’

Penn scurried after him as he swept to the door. They went outside, and Lief saw them speaking in low voices.

‘That Piper makes me uneasy,’ said Barda, walking to the stove to warm his chilled hands ‘He reminds me of people I knew in the Palace, in the old days. He is a schemer, and he is bending Penn to his will.’

‘I think he is using us to gain the stem of the Pipe for himself,’ Lief said. ‘The raft-dwellers’ magic, the magic that should be the birthright of every Pirran, is trapped inside the dome. But the stem of the Pipe has its own power—power which would light the caverns and do much more.’

Barda nodded agreement. ‘It must seem to the Piper that fate has brought us to him, as once it brought Doran when he was needed most.’

‘I agree, but—’ Jasmine’s brow was creased in thought. ‘But why bother to deceive us, when surely there is a simpler way to gain magic? Why not seize the part of the Pipe we already have?’

Lief’s hand rose, almost without his willing it, to touch the piece of knobbly wood beneath his shirt.

‘I suspect that the Plume part of the Pirran Pipe is of no use to Aurons,’ he said. ‘They have shown no interest in it, and its power does not seem to affect them. Yet as we approached the dome, and the Auron part of the Pipe was near, Penn was clearly as moved as I was.’

Wearily he pulled off his sodden cloak, and sank down beside Kree. ‘We must pretend to trust them for now, in any case,’ he murmured. ‘We need their help. Our first task must be to gain the stem of the Pipe. After that, we will deal with what comes.’

Penn hurried back into the room loaded with bundles and baskets. Her face was tense, her lips were strained into a smile that had no meaning.

‘Here are rugs to keep you warm while you rest,’ she chattered. ‘And bread—freshly baked—with hot Molisk patties. I am sure you are hungry.’

She put down a basket of flat speckled rolls and a bowl of steaming objects that looked like green meatballs. Suddenly aware that they were ravenous, the companions helped themselves.

They ate with relish. The bread tasted of the sea, but was crisp and warm. The patties were delicately flavoured, and melted on the tongue.

‘This meal pleases you more than the soup?’ Penn asked.

‘Much more,’ Barda agreed, with his mouth full.

Penn’s smile became a little more real. ‘It is written that Doran enjoyed Molisk patties also,’ she said. ‘They are our festival dish. The Piper ordered them to be prepared in honour of your visit. I am glad you are having them now. Before …’

Her voice trailed off, and she turned away.

Lief, Barda and Jasmine looked at one another, the delicious food suddenly dry in their mouths. It was quite plain that Penn thought that the Molisk patties would be their last meal.

Meanwhile, in Del, Sharn and Marilen looked down at the small body lying in the bed. Carrying Jinks back to his own chamber had been a grim task, but they had agreed that it was necessary.

‘Only we know he was not as ill as he claimed,’ Sharn said, covering the terrible face with the sheet. ‘People will think that he died of his injuries.’

‘The poisoner may guess the truth,’ Marilen said soberly. ‘And now we must try to think who that person may be. A person who knows I am here, and somehow knows who I am. And who had the opportunity to poison my food. The cook, Amarantz—’

‘Amarantz does not know you exist!’ Sharn broke in. ‘She thinks your trays are for an old palace servant who can no longer manage the stairs. And in any case I would trust her with my life. She would never serve the Shadow Lord.’

Marilen looked doubtful, but finally nodded. ‘Then it must be one of the guards on this floor or the library floor,’ she said. ‘The guards must know that I am a special, secret visitor, for I never go downstairs.’

‘But they do not go downstairs either, Marilen,’ Sharn pointed out, her heart sinking as she realised how few the suspects actually were. ‘Barda refused to risk them gossiping or being drugged, as happened once before. They are living on camping rations and sleeping in turns on this floor.’

Marilen shook her head in frustration. ‘Then who can the spy be?’ she demanded. ‘Doom brought the tray to me. But Doom cannot be suspected. And nor can Josef, surely, though …’ Her brow creased.

‘What?’ Sharn demanded. ‘Tell me!’

‘Josef was … different, in the library this morning,’ Marilen said hesitantly. ‘He looked cross and anxious. He rushed out, telling Ranesh to meet him in the kitchen to discuss an important matter. He has never done such a thing before.’

Sharn hesitated, unwelcome thoughts rushing through her mind.

‘Marilen,’ she said at last. ‘Do not take this amiss, but I must know. You and Ranesh have become … good friends. Is it possible that you have given him a hint of the reason for your presence here?’

Marilen blushed to the roots of her hair. ‘No, I have not!’ she cried angrily. ‘Ranesh knows I am of Tora, certainly, but anyone who looks at me must know that.

He has never asked why I am here, or what my future might hold, and I have never told him.’ She lifted her chin defiantly. ‘I have every reason not to do so!’

Those last words ringing in her ears, Sharn looked into the hurt, troubled eyes, and knew the girl was speaking the truth. She sighed, her heart very heavy.

‘I am sorry to have caused you pain, Marilen,’ she said quietly. ‘But we must face the truth. Of all the suspects, Ranesh and Josef are the only ones who know you are here, and who were also present in the kitchen when your tray was being prepared.’

‘Then however difficult it may be to believe, Josef must be guilty,’ said Marilen in a hard voice.

‘It cannot be Josef, Marilen,’ whispered Sharn.

‘Why not?’ Marilen snapped, suddenly reminding Sharn vividly of Jasmine. ‘Because he is old and frail? Because he says he saved The Deltora Annals? Surely we in Deltora have learned by now that wickedness can wear a smiling, deceiving mask?’

Indeed, thought Sharn, as they left the room of death, locking it after them. But I fear, Marilen, it is a lesson that your own heart has made you forget.

As they turned towards the stairway, they saw one of the library guards hurrying towards them. In his hand he held a folded sheet of paper, heavily sealed with wax.

‘What are you doing away from your post, Follin?’ Sharn asked sharply.

‘It is my rest period, ma’am,’ said the guard. He thrust the paper into her hand with an air of relief.

‘The old fellow—the librarian—gave me this soon after you left the library with the young lady, ma’am,’ he said, bowing distractedly in Marilen’s direction. ‘He said it had to be delivered to you urgently.’

Marilen stiffened. ‘A message from Josef?’ Sharn said faintly.

The guard nodded. ‘He has been plaguing the life out of me ever since, ma’am, to carry it to you. But, as I told him again and again, I could not leave my post until my replacement came. Those were the orders, ma’am.’

He looked at Sharn anxiously, plainly worried that he had made the wrong decision.

‘Quite right, Follin,’ said Sharn, forcing a smile. ‘Thank you. Go to your rest now. You have earned it.’

The guard made a clumsy bow, turned and lumbered away. With fingers that felt stiff and cold, Sharn broke the seal on the note and unfolded it.