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Lief took the flask with a muttered word of thanks. He disliked allowing his friends to believe he wished to see his mother, when in fact he wanted the Dreaming Water for something else. But he had no choice. He had to keep faith with Josef—at least until he had seen how things were, and had made up his mind what to do.

Later, alone in his cool, white Toran bed chamber, Lief drained the flask of Dreaming Water, and thought of Josef. He crawled into bed and lay still, but his mind was too active for rest. It seemed hours before exhaustion finally overcame him and he slept.

Almost at once, he began to dream.

He found himself standing just inside Josef’s room at the back of the library. Josef was hunched over his desk, his back to the door, working by the light of a candle. To his left was a stack of paper neatly tied with blue ribbon. To his right lay an open volume of the Deltora Annals and a clutter of paint pots, brushes, pens and empty tea cups. His body hid whatever was directly in front of him.

Lief’s heart began to thud as he moved further into the room. He found himself treading softly, though he knew he could not be heard or seen. With every step, he became more shocked and grieved. Even from behind, it was easy to see that Josef was sadly changed.

The old librarian’s white hair was dull, and much of it had fallen out so that patches of pink scalp showed between the long strands. The warm rug draped around his shoulders could not disguise how frail he was.

As Lief watched, Josef pushed aside a metal ruler with which he had been working. The hand clutching the ruler was like a blue-veined claw.

But Josef was not like this when we left Del! Lief thought in dismay. How could he have weakened so quickly?

He jumped as Josef groaned.

‘No, there is no doubt,’ the old man mumbled. ‘I have made no mistake. Oh, what wicked trickery is this? If only I had seen it before! If only I had remembered! Fool! Fool!’

Lief moved closer. He was just about to peer over Josef’s shoulder when there was the sound of loud footsteps outside in the library.

Josef started violently. His bony hand shot out and grasped the open volume of the Deltora Annals. Paint pots and cups overturned as he dragged the book to the centre of the desk, covering whatever lay there.

Doom strode into the room, dragging Josef’s assistant, Paff, by the back of her collar. He was scowling ferociously. Paff’s eyes were bulging with fright.

Josef turned to face them. His face was gaunt, his eyes were dark hollows. But still he straightened his shoulders and climbed to his feet, making a pathetic attempt to appear in control of the situation.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ he quavered.

‘Lindal of Broome caught your assistant trying to creep into Sharn’s room, Josef,’ Doom said coldly. He shook Paff like a puppy, and a choking sob burst from her lips.

Josef’s hand tightened on the back of the chair. ‘Release her, if you please,’ he said in a high voice. ‘She was only doing my bidding.’

Doom’s eyes seemed to flash. ‘So it seems,’ he said. ‘She was carrying this.’

He held a paper out in front of him. Lief read it, his heart sinking.

‘Did I not tell you, Josef, that Sharn is gravely ill?’ Doom said through tight lips. ‘And did I not tell you that the Toran Plague is highly infectious? By the heavens, can you not smell the funeral fires of those wretched souls who came in contact with her before her illness was known?’

Lief felt cold with dread.

Josef lifted his chin. ‘I must see the lady Sharn,’ he said stubbornly. ‘You have no right to keep me from her, Doom. If Lief were here—’

‘Lief is not here!’ snapped Doom. ‘I am. You cannot see Sharn, Josef. If you have something of importance to say, you can say it to me.’

Josef pressed his lips together and did not speak.

Doom made a disgusted noise, and released his grip on Paff’s collar. She darted away from him and scurried to Josef’s side.

Together the frail old man and the fluffy-haired girl faced Doom—strange allies in a very unequal battle.

‘Keep your secrets, then, Josef!’ Doom said angrily. ‘But I warn you, the next time you feel like sending Paff on such a mission, think again. She was panting so loudly with fear as she crept up the hallway to Sharn’s bed chamber that Lindal heard her through the door!’

Josef glanced at Paff irritably. She flushed pink, and her lips quivered.

‘I am sorry, Josef,’ she whispered. ‘I waited, just as you said, until Lindal of Broome went out for more hot water. She was carrying a jug. I heard her footsteps going away. But it was all a trick! She must have crept back. I had taken but one step into the room when she was upon me!’

Her eyes filled with tears. ‘She twisted my arm—treated me like a criminal,’ she whispered. ‘I am so ashamed.’

‘Josef is the one who should be ashamed!’ barked Doom. ‘Let him do his own dirty work in future!’

Paff looked up. Suddenly her tear-filled eyes were angry.

‘Josef can hardly walk!’ she cried. ‘He cannot go up to Sharn’s bed chamber without guards to carry him, you know that! How can you taunt him with his weakness!’

‘I did not mean—’ Doom began impatiently. But now that Paff had begun speaking, it seemed she could not stop.

‘And in any case, Josef did not force me to help him,’ she said. ‘I agreed gladly. His old assistant, Ranesh, would have done it in a moment. And I—I am sick to death of being compared to Ranesh and found wanting. I was not going to refuse my one chance to prove myself!’

‘I daresay Josef knew that only too well,’ said Doom drily.

Lief saw a flicker of shame cross Josef’s haggard face, and groaned inwardly.

‘Josef, I can waste no more time with you,’ Doom said to the old librarian. ‘You must cease your troublemaking. You must accept once and for all that you cannot see Sharn.’

‘But why should he not see her?’ shrilled Paff. ‘Why should Lindal of Broome, who is almost a stranger here, sit with the lady Sharn, while Josef is kept away? Is it because Lindal is your ally in all things, and Josef is not?’

Doom’s scarred face darkened. His eyes narrowed.

‘Paff, go to your room,’ Josef muttered urgently.

Red-faced and silent, Paff left his side, edged past Doom and disappeared through the open doorway into the darkness beyond.

Josef watched her go, swaying slightly where he stood.

‘I have given you all the news I have, Josef,’ Doom hissed. ‘Sharn could tell you no more, even if she could speak. I showed you the message from Zeean saying that Lief, Barda and Jasmine had succeeded in the west. Can you not be satisfied with that, and be at peace?’

Josef put a trembling hand to his brow, but said nothing.

‘You are not well,’ Doom went on in a level voice. ‘Your mind is clouded. That girl Paff is too weak-headed to see it, but I see it. And you yourself must know it.’

He looked keenly at the swaying figure before him, and shook his head as if to clear it.

‘If I have been impatient with you, Josef, I beg your pardon,’ he added. ‘But I have not slept more than an hour or two at a time in more days than I can count. And even at the best of times, soft words are not my way.’

For Doom, this was a generous apology. Lief willed Josef to understand. But the old man kept stubborn silence. He stood gripping the back of the chair, his knuckles white, his gaunt face as rigid as a piece of gnarled wood.

Doom cursed under his breath and left the room.

Only when the sound of his footsteps had died away did Josef move. His face sagged with exhaustion. Trembling, he lowered himself into his chair.