Peering through the bars was Dain, no longer bent with pain, but upright, and with his arm free of its sling. His face was set and determined, though Lief saw that the fingers resting on the window were trembling.
“The three days have passed,” he whispered, as the three companions gathered by the door. “You no longer need to be watched. But Doom still delays setting you free. I do not know why, and I feel it is not right. I will lead you out of here. But only if you promise me that you will take me with you. To Tora.”
Dain may have been afraid — may, indeed, have been guilty and ashamed — to free Lief, Barda, and Jasmine from the cell and lead them in silence down the dark passage beyond. He may have trembled as they moved into another tunnel and on to a small door that opened to the outside world. But still, he did it. And when they stood at last in the open air, under stars that sparkled like jewels scattered over the black velvet tent of the sky, he heaved a sigh of relief.
“We are safe, now,” he whispered. “They are all eating and drinking. No one will visit the testing room again until it is the hour for sleep. By then, we can be long gone.”
They wasted no time with words, but together began scrambling away over the rocks, slipping and sliding on loose stones, catching hold of rough bushes to stop themselves from falling.
Only when they were well away from the stronghold, when they were on flat ground again, did they stop to rest, and talk.
“Tora is many days’ journey downriver from here,” whispered Dain. “We will have to take great care as we go. Bandits and pirates haunt the River Tor, and Ols patrol the area in great numbers.”
“Why?” whispered Lief in reply. “What is so special about Tora, Dain? And why do you want to go there?”
Dain stared at him. Several expressions seemed to chase themselves across his face: surprise, bewilderment, disbelief, and finally, anger. Slowly he clambered to his feet.
“You know very well why,” he hissed, looking Lief up and down. “Can it be that still you do not trust me?” He shook his head violently from side to side. “I have betrayed my people for you. I have betrayed Doom, who has been like a father to me! Is that not enough to prove —?”
“Be still, boy,” muttered Barda. “It is not a matter of trust. We know very little of Tora.”
“I know nothing of it,” Jasmine muttered. “I had never heard of it until you said its name when we first met.”
“But I thought —” Dain took a deep, shuddering breath and pressed his hands together till the knuckles showed white. “You tricked me. You told me you were going —”
“We told you nothing,” Barda said firmly. “You suggested that Tora was our goal. We simply did not correct your mistake.”
Dain groaned and buried his face in his hands. It was dark, and he moved swiftly, but Lief thought he saw the dark eyes shining with tears. He felt a pang of guilt, and put a careful hand on Dain’s shoulder.
“We are going all the way to the coast, following the river. If Tora is on the river, or near it, we can escort you there, if that is what you wish.”
Still with his face in his hands, Dain slowly shook his head from side to side. “When first I heard of you — a man, a boy, and a wild girl with a black bird, in whose presence the Shadow Lord’s evil was undone — I began to think you were the answer,” he said, his voice thick and muffled. “And as the months went by, and Doom brought news that you were moving west, I became sure of it.”
He stifled a sob. “Then I met you. I thought it was fate. But it has all been a mistake. Another mistake. Oh, I can do nothing right! What am I to do?”
“I think you had better tell us what is troubling you,” said Jasmine flatly. “No purpose is served by wailing and grieving.”
Dain looked up. Her calm seemed to have brought him to himself as no amount of kind sympathy could ever do. He rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes, wiping away the tears.
“For reasons I cannot tell you, I must get to Tora. But Doom forbids it. At first — when first he found me — left for dead after bandits burned my family’s farm — he said I must regain my strength. Then he said I needed more training to travel in safety, though already I could use a bow. Later he said he needed my help for just a little while, and I could not refuse him. And at last, as I grew impatient, he said that Tora had grown too dangerous for me or any of our group, until we were much stronger.”
He paused, shaking his head as if to clear it. “He says that to visit it now would mean certain capture, and this would be a danger to the whole Resistance. He says Tora is crawling with Grey Guards and thick with spies, because …”
His voice trailed off, and he swallowed.
“Because Tora has always been so loyal to the royal family,” said Barda suddenly. “Of course!”
His eyes were alert and excited. In the back of Lief’s mind, memory stirred. The memory was of his father, beating red-hot iron in the forge, talking of Tora, the great city of the west. He had said that it was a place of beauty, culture, and powerful magic, far away from bustling Del and its palace, but fiercely loyal to the crown. Lief remembered his father describing a painting he had seen in the palace library, long ago.
It was a picture of a great crowd of people. All were tall and slender, with long, smooth faces, slanting eyebrows, dark eyes, and shining black hair. They wore robes of many colors, with deep sleeves that touched the ground. Their hands were pressed over their hearts.
They were all facing a huge rock from the top of which green flames sprang high into the sky. Beside the rock, his head bowed humbly, stood a big man in rough working clothes, wearing the Belt of Deltora. A beautiful, black-haired woman stood beside him, her hand on his arm.
“Adin loved a Toran woman, and she loved him,” Lief said slowly. “When he was proclaimed king, she went with him to Del, to rule by his side. On the day they left, the Torans swore allegiance to Adin, and all who came after him. Other tribes had done the same, but the Torans, who were the greatest among them, carved their oath upon the flaming rock that stood at their city’s heart, and set a spell upon it that could never be broken.”
He met Barda and Jasmine’s eyes, and the same thought flashed between them. What more perfect place than Tora to hide the heir to the throne?
“It is a long way from Del to Tora,” said Barda aloud, choosing his words carefully so as not to reveal their meaning to Dain. “A perilous journey. But once there …”
Yes, Lief’s eyes answered silently. Once there, King Endon could have been quite sure of help. The Torans would have done anything, risked anything, to keep him, Queen Sharn, and their baby safe. And they had magic enough to do it — whatever the Shadow Lord threatened, whatever destruction he caused.
“You do know something of Tora, then!” Dain was exclaiming, his face brightening.
“Not as it is now,” Lief said slowly. “I know only the ancient stories. No news has reached Del from the west since before I was born.”
“And perhaps long before that,” Barda put in. He met Dain’s anxious eyes. “I think, perhaps, that it is not only the dangers of Tora that cause Doom to forbid it to his people. It is also Tora’s loyalty to the crown. Doom wants no part of that. He despises the memory of the royal family. Is that not so?”
Dain’s shoulders slumped. “It is so,” he admitted. “And Doom wants no part of Tora’s magic, either. He says we depended on magic to save us in the past, and that it failed us. He says that we must learn to stand on our own feet, and fight the Shadow Lord with cunning, strength, and weapons. But I —”