Deltora Quest #3: City of the Rats (8 page)

R
ats in the thousands — in the tens of thousands! Suddenly Lief understood why the earth of the plain was bare. The rats had eaten every living thing.

They were creatures of the shadows. They had remained hidden in the ruined city while the sun glared down on the plain. But now they were coming, racing towards the scent of food in a frenzy of hunger.

“The river!” shouted Barda.

They ran for their lives. Lief glanced over his shoulder once only, and the sight he saw was enough to make him run even faster, gasping with fear.

The first rats had reached their campfire. They were huge. They were surging over the food and other belongings left scattered upon the ground, gobbling and tearing with needle-sharp teeth. But their fellows were close behind, leaping on top of them, smothering them,
fighting one another for the spoils, tipping into the fire in the haste, squealing and shrieking.

And in the thousands more were scrambling over them, or wheeling around the struggling pile and scuttling on, sharp noses sniffing, black eyes gleaming. They could smell Lief, Barda, and Jasmine ahead — smell their warmth and their life and their fear.

Lief ran, the breath aching in his chest, his eyes fixed on the river. The water gleamed in the last rays of the sun. Nearer … nearer …

Jasmine was beside him, Barda close behind. Lief plunged into the cold water, gasping, and waded out as far as he dared. He turned to face the land, his cloak swirling around him.

The squealing, dark grey tide that was the rats reached the riverbank. Then it seemed to curl and break like a wave, and surged out into the water.

“They are swimming for us!” Barda shouted, struggling to draw his sword and pull it to the surface. “By the heavens, will nothing stop them?”

Already, Jasmine was slashing with her dagger, shouting fiercely, and dead rats in their dozens were being swept away by the tide. Beside her, Lief and Barda swept their blades across the water, back and forth, gasping with the effort of the task.

The water around them swirled with blood and foam. And still the rats came, clambering with bared teeth over their own sinking dead.

How long will our strength last? thought Lief. How long will it be before they overwhelm us?

His mind raced as he fought, his hands numb on the hilt of his sword. They would be safe on the other side of the river. The water was too wide for the rats to swim. But it was too wide for him, Jasmine, and Barda also. They would never survive if they cast themselves adrift in this cold, deep water.

And the long night was ahead. Until the sun rose again, bringing light to the plain, the rats would attack. Thousands would die, but thousands would take their places. Gradually Lief, Barda, and Jasmine would weaken. And then at last the rats would swarm over them, biting and clawing, till they sank beneath the water and drowned together.

The sun had set, and the plain had darkened. Lief could no longer see the city. All he could see was the campfire, flickering like a beacon.

It was then that he remembered that he had put the jar of fire beads in his pocket.

He took his left hand from his sword, plunged it under the water, and dug deep into his jacket. His fingers closed around the jar and he pulled it up to the surface. Water dripped from it, but the beads still rattled inside.

Shouting to Barda and Jasmine to cover him, he waded forward, unscrewing the jar’s tight cap. He dug out a handful of beads with his stiff fingers and threw them at the rats on the bank with all his strength.

There was a huge burst of flame as the beads struck. The light was blinding. Hundreds of rats fell dead, killed by the sudden heat. The horde behind them shrieked, and scattered from the burning bodies. The creatures already in the water scrambled and writhed in terror, leaping towards Lief, Barda, and Jasmine, their long tails switching and coiling. Barda and Jasmine slashed at them, defending Lief and themselves, as Lief threw another handful of beads, and another, moving slowly downstream to lengthen the wall of flame.

And soon a long sheet of fire burned on the river’s edge. Behind it the plain seethed. But where Lief, Barda, and Jasmine stood, panting and shuddering with relief, there was only rippling water, alive with red, leaping light. Dead rats were swept away by the tide, but no more took their places.

In a few moments there were splashes up and downstream as the rats began plunging into the river above and below the line of flame. But the distance was too great for them to swim in safety. The swift-running current pulled most of them under before they could reach their prey, and those that remained alive were easily beaten off.

So the three companions stood together, waist-deep in water, trembling with weariness but safe behind their fiery barricade, as the long, cold hours passed.

Dawn broke at last. Dull red tinged the sky. Beyond the line of fire a murmuring, scuffling sound arose, like a forest of leaves rustling. Then it was gone, and a great stillness fell over the plain.

Lief, Barda, and Jasmine waded to the shore. Water streamed from their clothes and hair, hissing as it fell onto the flames of their barricade. They stepped over the flickering embers.

The rats had gone. Between the river and the smoking remains of the campfire there was nothing but a tangled litter of small bones.

“They have eaten their own dead,” muttered Barda, looking sick.

“Of course,” said Jasmine matter-of-factly.

Shivering with cold, feeling as though his legs were weighed down with stones, Lief began trudging towards the place where they had eaten their food many hours ago. Jasmine and Barda followed him, quiet and watchful. Kree flew overhead, the sound of his beating wings loud in the silent air.

Little remained around the ashes of the fire except for three patches of brilliant red.

Lief laughed shortly. “They have left the Ra-Kachar garments and boots,” he said. “They did not like them, it seems. Why would that be?”

“Perhaps the garments still bear the scent of the fungus from the Hole,” Jasmine suggested. “We can smell nothing — but we do not have the senses of a rat.”

They looked around at the wreckage. Buckles from the packs, the caps of the water bags, the pipe that blew bubbles of light, a button or two, a few coins, and the flat tin box containing the last of the Water Eaters lay strewn on the hard clay among the bones and cinders. Except for the clothes from Noradz, nothing else had survived the rats’ hunger. Not a crumb of food, a shred of blanket, or a thread of rope.

“At least we have our lives,” said Barda, shivering in the light dawn breeze. “And we have dry garments to put on. They may not be the garments we would like, but who is to see us here?”

Wearily they stripped off their wet clothes and pulled on the red suits and boots of the Ra-Kacharz. Then, warm and dry at last, they sat down to talk.

“The jar of fire beads is almost empty. We will not survive another night on this plain,” said Barda heavily. “We must enter the city now, if we are to enter it at all. These strange garments will give us some protection, since the rats do not like them. And we still have the pipe that blows bubbles of light. If it works as we were told, it may be of use.”

They bundled up their wet clothes, collected their few remaining possessions from the ground, and began to walk towards the city.

Lief’s eyes prickled with weariness, and his feet dragged in the high red boots. The thought of the rat horde, crawling and fighting inside the crumbling towers
ahead, filled him with dread. How could they enter the city without being covered and torn to pieces?

Yet enter it they must. For already the Belt of Deltora had begun to grow warm around Lief’s waist. One of the lost gems was indeed hidden in the city. The Belt could feel it.

T
he towers of the city rose dark and forbidding above their heads. Long ago, the great iron entrance gates had fallen and rusted away. Now all that remained was a gaping hole in the wall. The hole led into darkness, and from the darkness drifted a terrible, stealthy, scrabbling sound and the stink of rats. There was something else, too. Something worse. A sense of ancient evil — spiteful, cold, terrifying.

Lief, Barda, and Jasmine began drawing on the Ra-Kachar gloves and covering their faces and heads with the red fabric they had worn during the escape from Noradz.

“I do not understand how the rats became so many,” Lief said. “Rats breed quickly, it is true. And they breed faster when there is dark, and dirt, and food is left where they can find it. But why did the people of this
city not see the problem, and put a stop to it before it became so great that they had to flee?”

“Some evil was at work.” Barda stared grimly at the crumbling walls before them. “The Shadow Lord —”

“You cannot blame the Shadow Lord for everything!” Jasmine burst out suddenly.

Barda and Lief glanced at her in surprise. Her brows were knitted in a frown.

“I have kept silent for too long,” she muttered. “But now I will speak, though you will not like what I say. That stranger we saw in Tom’s shop — the man with the scar on his face — spoke of the thorns on the plain. He called them the Del King’s thorns. And he was right!”

They were staring. She took a deep breath, and hurried on.

“The Shadow Lord has ruled Deltora for only sixteen years. But it has taken far longer than that for the thorns to cover the plain. The sorceress Thaegan’s enchantment at the Lake of Tears began a
hundred
years ago. The people of Noradz have been living as they do for centuries. And this evil place must have been abandoned by its people for just as long.”

She fell silent, staring moodily ahead.

“What are you saying, Jasmine?” asked Barda impatiently.

The girl’s eyes darkened. “The kings and queens of Deltora betrayed their trust. They shut themselves up in
the palace at Del, living in luxury while the land went to ruin and evil prospered.”

“That is true,” said Lief. “But —”

“I know what you are going to say!” Jasmine snapped. “You have told me before that they were deceived by servants of the Shadow Lord. That they followed stupid rules blindly, thinking that this alone was their duty. But I do not believe that
anyone
could be so blind. I think the whole story is a lie.”

Barda and Lief were silent. Both could see why Jasmine would find the truth so hard to believe. She had fended for herself since she was five years old. She was strong and independent. She would never have allowed herself to be a puppet, dancing as a Chief Advisor pulled the strings.

Now she was rushing on. “We are risking our lives to restore the Belt of Deltora. And why? To return power to the royal heir — who even now is hiding, while Deltora suffers and we face danger. But do we really
want
kings and queens back in the palace at Del, lying to us and using us as they did before? I do not think so!”

She glared at them both, and waited.

Barda was angry. To him, what Jasmine was saying was treason. But Lief felt differently.

“I used to think as you do, Jasmine,” he said. “I hated the memory of the old King. But questions about whether he and his son were vain and idle or simply
foolish, and whether their heir is worthy, are not important now.”

“Not
important
?” Jasmine cried. “How can you —?”

“Jasmine, nothing is more important than ridding our land of the Shadow Lord!” Lief broke in. “However bad things were in Deltora before, at least then the people were free, and not in constant fear.”

“Of course!” she exclaimed. “But —”

“We cannot defeat the Shadow Lord by arms. His sorcery is too powerful. Our only hope is the Belt, worn by Adin’s true heir. So we are not risking our lives for the royal family, but for our land and all its people! Do you not see that?”

His words struck home. Jasmine paused and blinked. Slowly, the fire in her eyes died. “You are right,” she said flatly, at last. “My anger made me lose sight of our main purpose. I am sorry.”

She said nothing more, but finished winding the red cloth around her head and face. Then, dagger in hand, she went with them, into the city.

They plunged into a maze of darkness, and the walls were alive with sound. The rats came in the thousands, streaming from cracks in the crumbling stone, their tails lashing like whips, their red eyes gleaming.

Lief took the pipe and blew. Glowing bubbles rose from it, warming and brightening, lighting the darkness like tiny, floating lanterns.

The great rush of rats slowed, became a confused rabble, as most of the creatures scrabbled away from the light, shrieking in panic.

The bravest, darting in the shadows of the ground, tried to cling to the strangers’ moving feet, to climb their legs. But the high, slippery boots and smooth, thick red garments defeated all but a few, and these Lief, Barda, and Jasmine could brush off with their gloved hands.

“These garments might have been made for our purpose,” muttered Barda, as they struggled along. “It is a fortunate chance that we came by them.”

“And a fortunate chance that Tom gave us this pipe,” answered Lief. But even as he spoke he wondered.
Were
these things just chance? Or were they — something else? Had he not felt before, on this great journey, that somehow their steps were being guided by an unseen hand?

Brushing, shuddering, they stumbled forward. Now and again Lief blew on the pipe and new bubbles of soft light bloomed. The bubbles they had left behind drifted high above their heads, glowing on the ancient timbers that still supported the roof. The rats had not been able to gnaw through these timbers — or perhaps they knew better than to try, for without them the roof would cave in, exposing the city to the sun.

The whole city was like one huge building — a maze of stone that seemed to have no ending. There was
no fresh air, no natural light. This, it seemed, was the way towns were built in these parts, Lief thought. Noradz had been the same.

Everywhere were the signs of vanished grandeur. Carvings, high arches, vast rooms, huge fireplaces filled with ashes, great, echoing kitchens heaped with dust.

And everywhere, rats crawled.

Lief’s foot kicked against something that clanged and rolled. The rats caught at his gloves as he bent to pick it up.

It was a carved goblet — silver, he thought, though stained and tarnished with age and neglect. His heart was heavy as he turned it in his hands. It was as though it spoke to him of the people who had fled their home so long ago. He peered at it more closely. Somehow it seemed familiar. But why …?

“Lief!” growled Barda, his voice muffled by the cloth around his mouth and nose. “Keep moving, I beg you. We do not know how long the light pipe will last, and by nightfall we must be in a place of safety.”

“Somewhere, at least, where there are no rats,” added Jasmine. Furiously, she swept her hands from her shoulders to her hips, so that the rats crawling on her body fell squeaking to the ground.

A vivid memory, and a rush of astonished understanding, jolted Lief to his core. “And if we find such a place, we will say, ‘No rats here,’ and it will be a blessing,” he murmured.

“What?” Jasmine demanded crossly.

There was no time to explain now. Lief made himself move on, pushing the stem of the goblet into his Belt. Later, he would tell Jasmine and Barda. When they were out of danger. When …

Come to me, Lief of Del.

Lief started, looking around wildly. What was that? Who had spoken?

“Lief, what is the matter?” Jasmine’s voice seemed distant, though she was right beside him. He looked down at her puzzled green eyes. Dimly he realized that she could hear nothing.

Come to me. I am waiting.

The voice hissed and coiled in Lief’s mind. Hardly knowing what he was doing, he began to move fast and blindly, following its call.

The bubbles of light floated before him, shining on ruined walls, rusted metal brackets where torches had once burned, fragments of pots piled in heaps. Rats teemed in corners and clawed at his boots.

He stumbled towards the city’s heart. The air grew thick and hard to breathe. The Belt around his waist throbbed with heat.

“Lief!” he heard Barda shout. But he could not turn, or answer. He had reached a wide passage. At the end loomed a vast doorway. A sickening, musky smell billowed from whatever was beyond. He faltered, but still he moved on.

He reached the doorway. Inside, something huge moved in darkness.

“Who are you?” he quavered.

And the hissing voice struck at him, piercing and burning.

I am the One. I am Reeah. Come to me.