Return to Deltora

Dazed, Lief climbed to his parents’ side. As he knelt, embracing his mother and bending to his father, he met Doom’s eyes. Doom’s mouth twitched into a ghost of his old, mocking smile. Do you not yet understand? the smile seemed to ask.

Lief shook his head. Dimly he heard the crowd cheering still. He felt Jasmine and Barda, freed from their chains, sinking down beside him. But he could not move. He could not speak. He could only stare at Doom, his eyes filled with questions.

“The perfect hiding place,” Doom murmured. “Was it not? For whoever would suspect? Whoever would suspect that the man and woman who ran from Del that night nearly seventeen years ago were laying a false trail? That they were not the king and queen at all?”

His eyes warmed as he looked at Lief’s parents. “Who would suspect that the king of Deltora could live as a blacksmith? And a queen, a fine lady of Toran blood, could grow vegetables, and spin common yarn? Yet, what was Adin, but a blacksmith?

Then he turned back to Lief, and raised an eyebrow. “And what should be more fitting than that the heir to Deltora be brought up as a common boy, learning without trying the ways of his world, and its people?”

Then, in wonder, Lief saw it. Saw the plan in all its simplicity. A plan based on sacrifice. Based, also, on the confusion and chaos that Del had become. When neighbor lost sight of neighbor, friend lost touch with friend, and no face was familiar.

Doom’s plan … Doom, who was not Endon, but Jarred. Jarred who, with his beloved wife, had given his identity, his home, and his life to his friend, for the sake of the land they loved. Jarred, who had fled Del that dark night, with the little rhyme that had led him into the palace still in his pocket. No wonder Jasmine was as she was, with parents such as these!

“You had the idea of decoys once before, then, Doom?” he murmured.

Doom nodded. “So it seems. Though I did not know it, when I sent our Toran friends to the west. It is good to think that they, also, are safe.” He glanced behind him, and Lief heard the sound of fighting in the palace.

“The Resistance has arrived,” Doom said casually. “They will take care of the last of the Guards. Like Barda and Steven, I thought it wise to make a special plan, known to no one else. There is a certain drain-tunnel in Del, that leads to the palace kitchens …”

“I think I know it,” Lief muttered. “I found it once. On my birthday …”

His mother squeezed his hand.

His mother. Not Anna of the Forge, practical and wise in the ways of herbs and growing things. But Sharn, of Tora. The one who could weave like a miracle. The one whose wit and courage had taught him so much.

Lief looked down at his father, the tender, soft-spoken man whose name, he now knew, was not Jarred, but Endon. How could he have not guessed?

How could his gentle father have done the things Jarred was said to have done? Why would the true Jarred have been so bitter about Endon’s foolishness?

The face seemed smoothed, softened. It was very calm. The eyes were warm and peaceful. The mouth curved into a smile. Lief heard Barda’s quickly indrawn breath, and felt his own eyes burn with tears.

“Do not weep for me,” his father murmured. “I am happy. My life is fulfilled. Here, now, at the moment of my death, I have what I have longed for. The knowledge that the evil caused by my fault has been undone. The knowledge that, with my dear wife, I have raised a son who can lead his people wisely, know their hearts.”

“Why did you not tell me, Father?” murmured Lief. “Why did you not tell me who I was?”

“While you did not know, you were safe,” his father whispered. “And — you had to learn — to love and know the people, and be one of them. That — I had sworn.”

“But … Barda?” Lief glanced at the big man kneeling so silently beside him.

His mother shook his head. “Barda did not know the truth. He had seen Jarred and Anna leave. He thought they were the king and queen, for that is what we told him. At the palace he had only ever seen us from a distance, dressed and painted in palace fashion. We never told him the secret. We had sworn to keep the plan between the four of us. And when you went on your quest — why, we thought that as soon as the Belt was complete, there would be no need for explanation. We thought it would shine! We did not know …”

“We did not know that the order of the gems was important,” Doom finished. “How could we? The book told nothing of that.”

“It did,” Lief said quietly. “But it told it in riddles.”

Endon smiled. “That is fitting,” he said. “For all along, Lief, this has been a story where nothing is as it seems. I have always liked such tales. For such tales usually have happy endings…. As does this one.”

His eye closed. Lief clasped his mother’s hand, and bowed his head.

Lief, Jasmine, and Barda stood together, looking out into the dawn.

“I am glad it was you, Lief,” Jasmine said. “So glad.”

Lief looked at her. Her face was smudged with mud. Her hair was tangled. Her mouth was set in a strong, straight line.

“Why?” he asked.

“I could have offered the people nothing,” she said, moving away from him. “How could I be a queen? What am I but a wild girl, quick-tempered and troublesome, more at home in a forest than a walled garden?” She tossed her head. “Besides, I cannot stay here. This city is hideous to me. And the palace — a prison!”

“Prison walls can fall,” Lief said softly. “Gardens can become forests. Del can be beautiful once more. And as for what you can offer, Jasmine …” For a moment, his voice failed him. This was so important. He had to choose his words carefully. But whatever he said must be the truth. Not the whole truth, perhaps, but at least part of it.

“Well?” Jasmine demanded, her shoulders rigid.

“There is much to do,” Lief said simply. “So much to do, Jasmine. All over Deltora. Barda, Doom, and I cannot do it alone. We need your courage and your strength. We need you, exactly as you are.”

“Indeed,” said Barda gruffly.

Jasmine glanced at them over her shoulder. Filli chattered in her ear. Kree screeched on her arm.

“Then, I suppose I will stay — for a while,” she said, after a moment. “For, certainly, you need me. As your father needed my father. To get things done.”

Lief smiled, and, for once, did not argue.

He was well satisfied.