So the move to the forge had all been a dream and a lie. As her faith in Lief had been.
She stared sightlessly at the peeling paint of the cottage door. Because Lief was determined not to invade the Shadowlands, he had decided that she must never know about her sister. So he had sealed the room. How had he dared to make such a decision?
No wonder he has been avoiding me, Jasmine thought. No wonder he cannot meet my eyes.
By Order of the King…
Feeling her anger rise again, she turned her back on the cottage and walked across the yard to the forge itself.
She peered into the place where the great fire had once burned. The heavy hammers, tongs and bellows lay close at hand, as though waiting for their owners to return. It was strange to think that Lief had once worked here, helping his father to make horseshoes and plough shares for the people of the city.
But something else was strange, too, and at last Jasmine saw it.
The forge had lain idle for almost a year. The tools should have been covered with dust. But they were not. And—was it her imagination, or did the metal of the forge seem warmer than it should?
Jasmine looked around. An old chair stood nearby. Its back was dusty, but the seat was partly clean, as though, perhaps, a jacket or cloak had been thrown over it not so long ago.
And on the ground behind one of the chair legs was a folded scrap of paper. It showed no sign of the yellowing of age. So it had been dropped recently. Probably it had slipped from the pocket of the garment that had been thrown over the chair.
Jasmine picked up the paper and unfolded it.
The letters and figures made no sense at all to Jasmine. But she was sure of one thing: Lief had written the note. She had seen his writing too often to be mistaken. This was some sort of code. Yet another secret.
She threw the note to the ground in irritation.
‘It seems you are displeased,’ said an amused voice behind her.
6 - Treasure
Snatching her dagger from her belt, Jasmine spun around. A man was standing watching her. It was the dark, clever-faced man who had tried to talk to her in the entrance hall of the palace. He must have moved as silently as a cat, Jasmine thought, for neither she nor Kree had heard him approach.
The man smiled, white teeth flashing against his brown skin.
The smile made him look younger than Jasmine had first thought. In fact, it was hard to tell what age he might be. His body was lean, but strong. His face was unlined. His hazel eyes were clear and amused. His straight black hair was long, and tied back in a band.
He took a step towards her.
‘Keep back,’ Jasmine muttered warningly, holding her dagger so that it flashed in a shaft of sunlight.
The man stopped, and held his arms away from his body to show that he held no weapon. ‘I mean you no harm,’ he said, without the slightest sign of fear. ‘I have a favour to ask of you.’
‘Speak, then,’ said Jasmine, admiring his coolness in spite of herself.
‘I have a friend who has something of great value to give the king,’ said the man. ‘I have been waiting in the palace on his behalf for many days now. I followed you in the hope that you would help us.’
Jasmine laughed bitterly. ‘If you think I have influence with Lief, you are very much mistaken,’ she said. ‘You would do better to go back to the palace and stand in line again.’
The man raised one eyebrow. ‘I have had enough of standing in line,’ he said.
Jasmine nodded slowly. She recognised in this man a fellow spirit. Someone who disliked rules, and who went his own way. But the last thing she needed now was to become entangled in another problem connected with the palace. She had to plan, to prepare…
‘Let me take you to see my friend, I beg you,’ the man said. ‘The treasure he has been guarding is priceless. Believe me, the king will be grateful.’
Jasmine had no wish to earn Lief’s gratitude. She wanted never to see him again. Yet… if this man was speaking the truth, and his friend’s treasure was indeed valuable, it would cause a great sensation in the palace.
And a sensation was what she needed. She was too well-known to travel all the way to the Shadowlands border without being recognised. If Sharn heard of what she was doing, she would try to stop her. But if Sharn’s attention was diverted, even for a day or two…
‘What is this treasure?’ she asked abruptly.
The stranger shook his head. ‘That is for my friend to tell,’ he said. ‘He has suffered much to guard it.’
Jasmine watched him narrowly. Could he be trying to lure her into a trap?
‘You have no reason to trust me,’ the man said, as if reading her mind. ‘I do not ask you to do so. Walk behind me with your dagger in my back, if you wish.’
Jasmine made her decision. She nodded briskly. ‘Lead on, then,’ she said. ‘But I warn you. One false move, and I will not hesitate to kill you. And whatever this treasure is, it had better be worth my while!’
As the stranger led her into the heart of Del, Jasmine told herself that she had been right to trust him. When, however, he stopped at the burned-out shell of an old pottery, she shook her head.
‘Do you really expect me to enter that place with you?’ she exclaimed. ‘I am not so foolish.’
The man sighed. ‘No doubt you have good reason to be suspicious. But I am the last person likely to be a threat to your safety. Fighting and weapons do not appeal to me in the slightest. My friend lives within.’
‘Tell him to bring the treasure out to me,’ Jasmine ordered abruptly.
‘He will not do that,’ said her companion. ‘He does not believe Del is safe.’
Tired of the argument, Kree squawked loudly, left Jasmine’s shoulder and flew into the air.
Jasmine nodded. ‘Kree will follow you,’ she said. ‘I will wait until he brings me word that all is safe.’
The man looked up at the circling bird, and gave a low whistle. ‘So the stories are true,’ he murmured. ‘You do talk to birds.’
Jasmine did not answer. The man shrugged and climbed through a gap in the ruined wall. Kree soared after him. Soon both of them had vanished from view.
Minutes crawled by. Suddenly nervous, Jasmine looked behind her, but the street was deserted.
Then she heard a harsh cry and saw a black streak racing towards her, dark against the sky.
Filli chattered excitedly and scurried out from under Jasmine’s collar. ‘Yes, Filli, it seems that we are to discover treasure after all,’ Jasmine said. Despite everything, she felt a small thrill of excitement.
She climbed into the pottery, and began picking her way through the blackened rubble inside.
The stranger was waiting for her beside a gaping hole in the floor near the back of the building. With him, sitting on a large chest made of woven cane, was a frail, white-haired old man. Seeing Jasmine approach, the old man struggled to his feet.
When she reached him, and he was able to see her clearly, he looked rather surprised.
‘Are you sure this is a lady of the palace, my boy?’ he asked, in a piercing whisper.
His companion smiled. ‘There is nothing more certain,’ he said. ‘This is Jasmine, who helped King Lief restore the Belt of Deltora. We are greatly honoured by her presence.’
Jasmine squirmed, and darted him a furious look. His smile did not waver.
The old man nodded gently. ‘Of course, times have changed,’ he murmured. ‘We do not have the leisure for plaited hair, fine clothes and trinkets now. So much the better, perhaps.’
With great dignity, he bowed low to Jasmine. ‘Thank you for agreeing to see me, madame,’ he said. ‘I have come out to greet you, for I fear the steps of our home are very steep.’