Steven growled ferociously, thrusting the stove and kettle aside. His eyes were flashing gold to brown, brown to gold. His body was quivering…
And the plump red bag was tumbling down the sloping rock towards the raging water.
Lief shouted and hurled himself forward. Suddenly he knew what was in the bag. Knew why Laughing Jack had kicked it before he fled.
The bag had reached the edge of the rock. It was tipping…
Lief dived for it. His arms and chest hit the rock. His hands caught the last corner of the bag just as it slid over the lip of The Funnel. He held on with all his strength.
‘Jasmine! Steven! Help me!’ he shouted, twisting his neck, searching for a sign of them. But he could only see Laughing Jack, standing on the driver’s seat of the wagon, a long whip in his hand. Jack’s hollow eyes were blazing as he stared at something beyond Lief’s vision.
The bag swung over the greedy, spinning water, drenched with spray. It was moving now. Someone inside it was struggling and kicking. Grimly Lief held on, his arms straining. He felt himself beginning to slide forward.
Desperately he dug the toes of his boots into the slippery rock, trying to hold himself back. But little by little the weight of the bag was pulling him after it.
He heard Jasmine cry out, and moments later felt her fling herself down behind him, felt her gripping his ankles.
Her strength was not enough—not enough, with the red bag dragging him down. The only way to save himself was to let go. But he could not let go.
‘Steven!’ he heard Jasmine scream over the thundering of the water.
Lief’s head and shoulders were over the edge now. Spray beat on his face, filling his eyes and his nose. He gritted his teeth, held his breath…
And then, miraculously, he felt hands gripping him around the waist, lifting him back. Still he clung to the sodden, bulging bag, though his arms felt as if they were being pulled from their sockets, and his fingers were numb.
With joy he saw the bag rise, dripping, over the edge of The Funnel, and Steven’s great arm reach out to gather it in. But still he did not release his grip.
Only when he was sprawled on higher ground, and the bag was safe, did he allow his fingers to be prised away from it. He lay back, trembling all over, as Jasmine cut the knots that held the bag closed.
Out rolled a squirming shape tied up like a parcel in a thick brown rug. Muffled shrieks reached their ears.
‘Hold him, Steven!’ Jasmine said sharply. She cut through the ropes and peeled the sodden rug aside. And there was Zerry, drenched, screaming and kicking.
Grimly Steven held him down.
‘Let me go!’ Zerry screeched, twisting violently. The buttons tore from his skimpy jacket. The ragged shirt beneath it ripped like paper.
And beneath the shirt, something gleamed. Something bright was looped around Zerry’s neck, hanging down over his chest like a giant necklace.
Lief reached out. The moment he touched it, the Belt of Deltora fell into his hands. Tingling warmth flowed through him as he clasped it around his waist.
He closed his eyes, dazed with relief.
It is safe. It is with me. Safe…
The roaring of the waterfall was throbbing in his ears. It seemed to be echoing. Louder, louder… how could it be so loud?
Lief opened his eyes.
The waterfall was filled with stars—stars twinkling on a bed of midnight blue. It was as though, by some miraculous trick of the light, the night sky was reflected in the foaming, falling water.
And then the reflection seemed to rush forward. Something burst through the veil of the waterfall, through the clouds of spray—something real, and gigantic.
Roaring, it hovered over The Funnel, its scales sparkling in the moonlight. Its mighty wings were like dark blue velvet pierced with light. Its eyes shone like stars. Every one of its claws was like a new moon, curved and gleaming.
Zerry screamed in terror. He rolled over and covered his eyes. Jasmine, and even Steven, shrank back.
But Lief crawled to his feet and stood with his head up, his hands on the Belt of Deltora, his heart beating wildly. So—the waterfall veils a great cavern in the cliff, he thought, steadying himself. A safe hiding place, indeed, for—
‘Greetings, king of Deltora!’ thundered the dragon. ‘At last you have come!’
‘Greetings, dragon of the lapis-lazuli,’ said Lief awkwardly. ‘I—I came when I could.’
The dragon swept gracefully to shore. As it settled on the rock, not far away from the companions, Lief realised that, despite its enormous size, it was smaller than the other dragons he had seen. Smaller, and more delicate-looking.
The dragon looked at Lief closely. ‘You are wet, and the poor, thin hide of your face is torn!’ it accused, shaking its own dripping wings. ‘What has befallen you, in this land of good fortune?’
Its gleaming eyes fell on Zerry. ‘This boy is one of mine!’ it growled. ‘I can smell it! Did he dare to do you ill, king? Shall I deal with him?’
Zerry wailed and clutched Steven’s arm. ‘I did not mean it!’ he gabbled. ‘I did not know! Fern said the Belt was of no value—just part of a Masked Ones’ costume, that Bess had given Lewin for himself.’
He wiped his nose on the sleeve of his jacket. ‘She said I should steal it if I could. She said there was a man at the Riverdale turnoff who fancied it, and would pay well for it. She said it was my chance to get away from old Plug and her lessons, and go home to Rithmere with gold in my pocket. She wrote a note for me to give the man, but he—’
‘The note said you were to be killed, you young fool!’ Steven growled. ‘If you had let Plug teach you to read, instead of spending all your time idling and thieving, you would have known that.’
‘This boy of Rithmere laid hands on the Belt of Deltora?’ thundered the dragon, baring its fangs.
‘The boy is not our enemy,’ Lief said quickly. ‘Our enemy is—’
And for the first time since he shouted for help at the lip of The Funnel, he remembered Laughing Jack. The dragon was sitting where the wagon had been. He looked quickly at Steven.
‘I had to force Nevets back, so I could come to your aid,’ Steven said. ‘Nevets and I cannot be long apart. We fight together or not at all. So Laughing Jack escaped. While I was still lifting you from The Funnel, he was up the hill and away. We will never catch him, or his poor beasts, now.’
Jasmine looked stricken.
Lief swallowed. ‘Could not Mellow and the bees give chase and—?’
They cannot work their magic again so soon,’ Steven sighed. ‘No—this time Laughing Jack has escaped the fate he deserves. But there will be another time. We will not forget.’
The dragon smacked its lips loudly, as if annoyed at being ignored.
‘I am famished,’ it announced. ‘If you will excuse me, king, I will go and fill my belly.’
‘You will not take humans, or their beasts, I hope!’ Lief exclaimed, suddenly fearful.
‘Unless you see a thin man driving four black horses,’ growled Steven. ‘You are very welcome to him.’
The dragon looked down its nose at them. ‘Do you take me for a savage?’ it demanded. ‘Whatever dragons of other lands may stoop to, the dragons of the lapis-lazuli would never dine on warm blood. Ugh!’
It shuddered at the very thought.
‘I beg your pardon,’ Lief said hastily. ‘But you will find little to satisfy your hunger, I fear. The land is poorly.’
‘I have sensed that already, king,’ the dragon growled, delicately smoothing the scales of its chest with one slender claw. ‘It seems that the Enemy took advantage of my sleep.’
‘He took advantage of all the dragons’ sleep,’ Lief said. ‘The evil thing that is poisoning your territory is called the Sister of the North. My companions and I are journeying to find and destroy it.’