Barda and Jasmine, their eyes on the hovering arrows, stepped back reluctantly.
The arrows shrank and changed back into moths. ‘Thank you,’ said Tirral calmly. ‘It would have troubled us to injure kinsfolk. Especially kinsfolk who have done what is proper, and brought with them a fine gift.’
‘Gift?’ growled Barda suspiciously.
‘Such a great quantity of bait, heaped on the shore!’ the eager-faced boy cried. ‘Ah, thanks to you we will have fresh-caught Seawing for weeks to come!’ He smacked his lips. ‘Seawing are delicious! And there is nothing they like better than leeches from the entrance to the Keras sea. If only we could—’
‘Gathering the leeches is a dangerous task, and we do it rarely,’ Tirral explained, cutting him short.
‘If we lit the tunnel—for just a few moments—’ the boy began.
‘We cannot light the tunnel, Emlis,’ said Tirral wearily, as if they had had this argument many times before. ‘The darkness and the leeches are our protection from the Aurons. Are we to risk daring our enemies to attack us for the sake of a little bait?’
‘I am surprised that you need bait for fishing, Piper, since your magic is so powerful,’ said Jasmine pertly.
Tirral smiled. ‘There are many ways to catch a fish,’ she said. ‘And if the fish you want rises to a simple bait, so much the better. Please follow me.’
She turned on her heel and moved away, ushering Emlis firmly before her.
‘I hope that we are not the fish in this case,’ muttered Barda as he, Lief and Jasmine followed, with the other Kerons close behind. ‘Are we guests, or prisoners?’
‘It is not far to go, cousins!’ called Emlis, craning to look at them over his shoulder.
‘Why do they call us cousins?’ said Jasmine, rather too loudly. ‘We are no kin of theirs!’
‘But you are!’ said Tirral, stopping where the path ended in a dense clump of trees. ‘Do you not recall your history?’ She turned to face them, and touched the wisps of fair hair that showed beneath her head-covering.
‘The Girl with the Golden Hair!’ Jasmine exclaimed, astounded. ‘Alyss and Rosnan! You mean…?’
‘Certainly,’ said Tirral. ‘After they settled on Keras, Alyss and Rosnan had many children. Those children grew up to marry Kerons, and have children of their own. And so it went on through the generations.’
‘Most of us have some above-worlder blood running in their veins,’ Emlis broke in. ‘Even those who do not bear the sign of the golden hair as I do.’ He ran his fingers through his wiry hair with obvious pride.
Tirral sighed. ‘And so we greet you as distant cousins, as our ancestors greeted Doran the Dragonlover, long ago,’ she said. ‘Doran was not surprised. It was the tale of Alyss and Rosnan which had brought him to the caverns in the first place.’
‘We were led here by the same story,’ Lief murmured.
‘And of course Alyss and Rosnan stopped on Keras!’ cried Jasmine. ‘The emerald cavern is the last before the grey place where they feared to go.’
‘But who would have thought that after so long there would still be a trace of them here?’ Barda exclaimed.
Tirral shrugged. ‘Blood is blood, no matter how thinly it is spread over the ages,’ she said. She raised her hand. The trees blocking the path vanished to reveal a large group of startled, guilty-looking children.
‘Bad little fish! Did we not tell you to remain hidden in the fruit store?’ scolded Tirral. ‘What if we had been a band of savage Aurons, come to eat you alive?’
She sounded very fierce, but hid a smile as the children scattered.
Now the companions could see that the clump of trees had concealed a village. Without speaking, Tirral led the way through the broad, tidy streets.
The village was large, light and pleasant. The houses were made of green fungus wood, thatched with dried seaweed. Fish swam lazily in ponds in almost every garden, and the children who had been shooed from the village entrance peeped from behind the garden walls.
At last they reached a large open space, in the centre of which a fire burned brightly in a deep cradle of stones. Woven mats were spread on the ground around the fire.
‘This is our meeting place,’ Tirral said, sitting down on one of the mats and signalling for Lief, Barda and Jasmine to join her. ‘Here Alyss and Rosnan told their story to our ancestors.’
‘Doran sat here too, in his time,’ put in Emlis, throwing himself clumsily down beside her. ‘It was Doran who brought the fire that burns here still.’
The other Kerons who had been gathering by the fire were all whispering and watching the visitors with interest. But none was as eager as Emlis. Quivering with excitement, he gazed at the visitors, drinking in every detail of their appearance. ‘That is the Belt of Deltora, is it not?’ he breathed, leaning closer to Lief. ‘Doran said much of its power.’
Tirral glanced at him with affectionate irritation. ‘This is my son, Emlis,’ she said. ‘He has more above-worlder blood than most of us, I think, for he longs to travel, and knows Doran’s tales by heart. Your arrival has pleased him greatly.’
The young man blushed and he ducked his head, muttering awkwardly.
‘Now!’ Tirral raised her voice slightly. ‘You are our kinsfolk and, according to Keron beliefs, it is our duty to help you if we can. Our part of the Pirran Pipe is precious to us, but we can well survive without it if we must. Our own magic is sufficient for our needs.’
The people around the fire murmured solemn agreement. Lief’s heart began to pound with excitement.
Then, with a stab of dismay, he saw Tirral’s face hardening.
Whatever she says of Keron beliefs, she does not want to give up her treasure, he thought. She has found a way to refuse us. A way her people will accept.
‘The Pipe will not be lost,’ he said quickly. ‘It will be returned to the caverns, I swear it!’
Tirral went on as if he had not spoken. ‘But also according to our beliefs,’ she said, ‘if you borrow something from us, swearing to return it, I may demand something of you to keep as a token of your oath. A thing that is as close to your hearts as our treasure is to ours.’
She smiled broadly, showing all her white, pointed teeth.
3 – Song of the Pipe
Lief, Barda and Jasmine looked around at the silent people by the fire. All were nodding seriously. Clearly, Tirral was speaking the truth.
But it is a trick, Lief thought. She is going to ask for something she is sure we will not give. Glancing at his companions, he saw that Jasmine’s hand had crept to her shoulder, where Filli and Kree huddled silently. Barda was frowning, thinking, no doubt, of the sword that had been his faithful companion for most of his life.
Lief thought of his own most precious possessions—the sword forged for him by his father, and the concealing cloak woven by his mother’s hands. How could he survive in the Shadowlands without them?
He waited in hideous suspense as Tirral turned to him, her eyes glittering. At last she spoke. ‘I ask for… that pretty jewelled belt you wear, King of Deltora,’ she said.
‘Mother!’ cried Emlis, aghast.
A great, dizzying wave of heat swept over Lief. He heard Jasmine and Barda crying out in amazed anger and the watching people exclaiming, but he felt only sick—sick with relief. He hung his head, knowing that he must not let Tirral see his eyes.
Finally he allowed himself to look up. ‘Very well,’ he said. Ignoring Barda and Jasmine’s startled protests, he unclasped the gleaming belt and handed it to Tirral.
The watching people gasped in awe. Many jumped to their feet and rushed to crowd around their leader, eager to see the famous belt more closely.
But Tirral’s face was a study in baffled rage. Never for a moment had she thought Lief would agree to her demand. Like all Kerons, she had grown up with Doran’s tales. She knew how vital the Belt of Deltora was to the safety of the world above.