For a moment he simply stared in astonishment. Then he realised that Ranesh had almost certainly carried Josef to the chapel, where he could lie in state as befitted a Deltoran hero.
Fighting down the lump in his throat, Lief hurried to the desk. As he reached for the open Deltora Annals volume that Josef had pulled over his secret work, his eye was caught by the stack of paper tied with blue ribbon lying on the left of the desk.
He glanced at the top page.
So Josef had finished his book at last. Again the lump rose in Lief’s throat. He took a breath, and looked back at the heavy open volume in front of him.
It was Volume 1 of the Annals, where all the old folk tales were recorded. Lief’s heart lurched as he noted that it was open at the tale of the Four Sisters.
Sickened afresh at the thought of the gloating pleasure the Shadow Lord must have taken in naming his own vile creations after the sisters in the old Jalis tale, Lief lifted the book aside.
And there was nothing beneath it at all. Josef, or someone else, had moved or destroyed whatever had been there.
The disappointment was like a blow. But Lief was shamed to find that deep within him, below the disappointment and frustration, there was a tiny glow of relief. The room would have to be searched—every book and paper in it examined. But for now, the Sister’s hiding place remained unknown. He did not yet have to take another step towards the darkness.
He felt numb as he turned away from the desk and left the room.
Manus was still absorbed in the plans and Lief did not hail him. Instead, he walked rapidly to Paff’s chamber.
The door hung open, sagging on its hinges. Lief called softly, and went in. Gla-Thon was standing at the end of Paff’s bed, bow drawn.
‘Ah, Lief, it is you,’ Gla-Thon said, lowering her bow and moving aside.
Lief could see at once that Paff was much better. Her body had relaxed. Her eyes were closed in what seemed a natural sleep.
‘All the emeralds I had are beneath the covers, close to her heart,’ Gla-Thon whispered. ‘I put them there the moment I returned. And here is the message to be sent to Fa-Glin.’
She held out the note. Taking it with a nod of thanks, Lief approached the bed. It seemed to him that as he drew closer Paff stirred a little. He felt for the clasp of the Belt.
‘If we leave her to recover with the aid of my emeralds alone, we will learn much that will help in the treatment of others,’ Gla-Thon murmured. ‘It would be a very useful experiment.’
Lief hesitated, then shook his head. ‘Josef may have told her something,’ he said. ‘It is a small chance, perhaps, but the sooner she can speak, the sooner—’
He broke off and swung round as he heard the sound of running footsteps and voices outside in the library. He saw from the corner of his eye that Gla-Thon had raised her bow again.
Jasmine appeared at the door. Her face was deathly pale. Kree was fluttering on her arm, and Filli was whimpering piteously on her shoulder. Behind her Manus hovered, his small, blue-grey face creased in distress.
Lief’s heart began to pound. He strode to Jasmine and she reached out for him blindly, clutching the front of his jacket.
‘I went to the bird room,’ she said in a small, tight voice. ‘The guards were gone. And the birds … all the birds—’
‘Dead?’ Lief exclaimed.
‘Dead or—or dying,’ Jasmine whispered. ‘Lief, you must come. You must help me. If they cannot be cured, they must be put out of their misery. They—they are suffering.’
‘Stay with Paff!’ Lief called over his shoulder to Gla-Thon. And putting his arm around Jasmine, he hurried with her out of the room.
In the centre of the bird room was a living tree, its branches stretching almost to the high, netted roof. Bright sunlight filtered through the tree’s leaves, mercilessly lighting the scene below.
All the perches were empty. The straw that covered the floor was littered with black, feathered bodies, some fluttering and twitching horribly, some deathly still.
Kree hunched silently on Jasmine’s arm. His golden eyes looked glazed.
‘We will help them, Kree,’ Jasmine said. But her face was haunted as she gazed at the birds, many of which she had raised from chicks, and all of which she had trained.
‘Poison,’ Lief muttered, overturning the water trough by the door with his foot. ‘The guardian must have crept in here last night, as we approached Del and while the birds were still sleeping. No doubt the plan was to stop any messages being sent from Del.’
‘Where is the keeper of the birds?’ Jasmine hissed. ‘Where are the guards? Doom promised me the birds would be safe. He swore it!’
‘Doom cannot be everywhere,’ Lief said in a low voice, unclasping the Belt of Deltora. ‘And he has to sleep, like any mortal.’
He knelt by the nearest living bird, and gently pressed the emerald to its breast. Instantly the bird’s piteous struggles ceased. It opened its eyes and clucked feebly.
Jasmine made a small, choked sound. She fell to her knees and touched the bird’s head.
‘There, Blackwing,’ she crooned. ‘There …’
Quietly Lief moved on to the next fluttering body. Briefly he remembered Paff, then pushed the thought from his mind. Paff was recovering without his aid. If she had anything to tell, it would have to wait.
Half an hour later, the sun shone down on twelve occupied perches in the bird room. The dozen birds Lief had saved were ruffled and quiet, very aware of the empty spaces all around them.
‘Not one of them is strong enough to fly to Dread Mountain,’ Jasmine said in a low voice, as she and Lief stood watching the survivors.
Kree squawked and flapped his wings.
‘No, Kree!’ she exclaimed. ‘You have just flown from Tora. You must—’
Kree screeched, and snapped his beak. Clearly he was determined to go to Dread Mountain, whether Jasmine approved or not.
Lief held out the folded paper. Kree plucked it neatly from his hand and held it fast.
‘Go and bid him farewell, Jasmine,’ Lief said gently. ‘I will not leave the birds until you return.’
Jasmine took a deep breath, then nodded and left the room with Kree riding serenely on her arm.
Lief pushed his hands deep into his pockets and began slowly pacing the room, kicking at the straw with the toes of his boots. Around him, the recovering birds crooned and clucked.
He jumped violently as there was a noise behind him. He swung around, reaching for his sword, as the door of the room opened.
Barda walked in, grim-faced. Close behind him was a stocky guard with a balding head and an anxious expression that sat oddly on his red, good-natured face. Lief recognised him as Dunn, Barda’s new deputy. A red mask hung around Dunn’s neck, as though he had only recently pulled it down.
‘Manus told us what had happened,’ Barda said grimly. ‘We have discovered Jarvis, the keeper of the birds, dead in his bed. The bird room guards have been found further down the hallway here. They have not a mark on them, but they, too, are dead.’
‘Zon and Delta crawled away seeking help, no doubt, sir, and died where they fell,’ Dunn mumbled.
Barda’s lips tightened. ‘No doubt,’ he said curtly. ‘But that must have been well before dawn, for their bodies are already cold and stiffening. Why did you not discover before this that the bird room was unguarded?’
Dunn’s red face deepened to dull scarlet. ‘I have been forced to abandon inspections in this area, sir,’ he said. ‘We are short-handed, sir, because of the Toran Plague. And the bird room is very out of the way.’
‘That,’ said Barda through gritted teeth, ‘is exactly why inspections are needed here, Dunn. And how many times do I have to tell you? There is no plague! Stop using the cursed word!’