Deltora Quest #3: City of the Rats (5 page)

T
he great logs in the meeting hall fireplace had been lit, and the blaze threw a ghastly red light over the faces of the prisoners.

For hours they had stood there, while a useless search was made for Filli. The Ra-Kacharz guarded them grimly, their eyes growing darker and more stern as the minutes ticked by.

Exhausted and silent, Lief, Barda, and Jasmine awaited their fate. They had learned by now that it was useless to argue, rage, or plead. In bringing a furred animal into Noradz they had committed the most hideous of crimes.

Finally, Reece spoke.

“We can wait no longer. The trial must begin.”

A gong sounded, and black-clad people began to file into the hall. They arranged themselves in rows,
facing the prisoners. Lief saw that Tira, the serving girl he had saved from punishment, was in the first row, very near to him. He tried to meet her eyes, but she looked quickly at the ground.

Reece raised his voice so all could hear.

“Because of these unclean ones, evil is abroad in Noradz. They have broken our most sacred law. They claim it was done out of ignorance. I think they lie, and deserve death. Others of the Nine believe them, and think imprisonment should be their fate. Therefore, it will be left to the sacred Cup to decide.”

Barda, Jasmine, and Lief stole glances at one another. What new madness was this?

Reece took from the shelf above the fireplace a shining silver goblet — once used for drinking wine, perhaps.

“The Cup reveals the truth,” he droned. “Noradzeer.”

“Noradzeer,” murmured the watching people.

Next, Reece showed two small cards. Each card had one word printed upon it.

He turned to the prisoners. “One among you will draw a card from the Cup,” he said, his dark eyes gleaming. “Who will be that person?”

The companions hesitated. Then Lief stepped forward. “I will,” he said reluctantly.

Reece nodded. “Face the front,” he said briefly.

Lief did as he was told. Reece turned away from him, and from his fellow Ra-Kacharz. He put his gloved hand over the Cup.

Lief saw that Tira was watching Reece with close attention. Suddenly, her blue eyes widened with astonishment and horror. She glanced quickly at Lief, and her lips moved soundlessly.

Lief’s face began to burn as he made out the mouthed words.

Both cards say “Death.”

Tira must have seen Reece replace the “Life” card with a second “Death” card hidden in his sleeve or his glove. Reece was determined that the strangers would die.

The tall red figure turned back to him, the Cup held high. “Choose!” Reece sneered.

Lief did not know what to do. If he cried out that the Cup held only two “Death” cards, no one would believe him. Everyone would think that he was simply afraid to face the trial. No one would take his word, or Tira’s, against the word of the First Ra-Kachar of Noradz. And Reece could easily change the cards around again if challenged.

Lief slipped his fingers under his shirt and gripped the topaz fixed to the Belt. It had helped him find answers before. Could it help him now? The fire roared behind him, lighting the tall figure in front of him with an eerie glow. The silver cup shone red like solid flame.

Flame. Fire …

His heart thudding, Lief stretched up his hand, dipped his fingers into the Cup, and chose a card. Then, like lightning, he whirled, seemed to stumble backwards, and dropped the card into the roaring flames. It flared for a moment, and was consumed.

“I beg pardon for my clumsiness,” cried Lief, over the horrified gasps of the crowd. “But you can easily tell which card I drew. Simply look at the one remaining in the Cup.”

Reece stood perfectly still, seething with baffled rage, as one of the other Ra-Kacharz took the Cup from his hand and plucked out the card that still lay within it. She held it up.

“The card that remains is ‘Death,’” she droned. “The prisoner drew the ‘Life’ card. The Cup has spoken.”

Lief felt Barda’s hand grip his shoulder. Weak at the knees, he turned to face his friends. Their eyes were relieved, but full of questions. They suspected that he had burned the card on purpose, and wondered why.

“Take them to the dungeons,” Reece thundered. “There they will live out their lives, repenting of the evil they have done.”

The eight other Ra-Kacharz surrounded Lief, Barda, and Jasmine and began marching them from the hall. The whispering crowd parted to let them through. Lief twisted his head, looking for Tira among the black-clad figures, but could not see her.

As they left the hall, they heard Reece’s voice raised once more as he spoke to the people. “Continue the search for the creature who has befouled our city,” he ordered. “It must be found and killed before nightfall.”

Lief glanced at Jasmine. She did not open her lips, but her face was pale and set. He knew that she was thinking of Filli — hunted and afraid.

The Ra-Kacharz pushed their prisoners through a maze of brightly lit hallways and down some winding stone steps. The smell of soap hung everywhere, and the stones under their feet were scrubbed smooth.

At the bottom of the steps was a large space lined with metal doors, each with a narrow flap through which a tray of food could be passed. The leading Ra-Kachar threw one of the doors open, and her companions pulled Lief, Barda, and Jasmine towards it.

Jasmine took one look at the grim, windowless cell beyond the door and began to struggle wildly. Lief and Barda, too, fought grimly for their freedom. But it was no use. They had no weapons, no protection against the
whips of the Ra-Kacharz, cracking around their faces, stinging their legs and arms. They were driven back into the cell. Then the door was slammed behind them and a heavy bolt was driven home.

They threw themselves at the door, beating on it with their fists. But the footsteps of the Ra-Kacharz were already fading into the distance.

Frantically, they searched the cell, looking for weaknesses. But the narrow wooden bunks fixed to one wall could not be moved. The empty water trough fixed to another wall was solid as rock.

“They will come back,” Barda said grimly. “We were condemned to life, not death. They will have to give us food, and fill the water trough. They cannot leave us here to starve or die of thirst.”

But miserable hours passed, and no one came.

They had all drifted into an uneasy sleep when the scratching came at the door. Even when Lief woke, he thought he had dreamed the timid sound. But then it came again. He jumped from his bunk and ran to the door with Jasmine and Barda close behind him. The food flap had been pushed open. Through it, they could see the blue eyes of Tira.

“The First Ra-Kachar gave orders that he and he alone would bring you food and water,” she whispered. “But — I feared that he may have … forgotten. Have you eaten? Has the water trough been filled?”

“No!” Lief whispered back. “And you know that he
did not just forget, Tira. That is why you came. Reece intends us to die here.”

“It cannot be!” Her voice was agonized. “The Cup gave you Life.”

“Reece cares nothing for the Cup!” hissed Barda. “He cares only for his own will. Tira, unbolt the door! Let us out!”

“I cannot! I dare not! You brought evil to our halls, and it has still not been found. All except the night cooks are sleeping now. That is why I could slip away and not be missed. But the people are afraid, and many are crying out in their sleep. In the morning, the search will begin again.” Through the narrow slit, the girl’s eyes were dark with fear.

“Where we come from, animals like Filli are not evil,” Lief said. “We meant no harm in bringing him here. He is Jasmine’s friend. But if you do not let us out of this cell, we are doomed. Reece will see to it that we die of hunger and thirst and no one will ever know. No one but you.”

There was no reply but a soft groan.

“Please help us!” begged Lief. “Tira, please!”

There was a moment’s silence. Then the eyes disappeared and they heard the sliding of the bolt.

The door swung open and they crowded out of the cell. White-faced in the light of the torches, Tira gave them water and they drank thirstily. She said nothing as they thanked her, and when they bolted the door behind them to disguise their escape, she shivered and covered
her face with her hands. Plainly, she felt as though she was doing something very wrong.

But when they discovered their packs hidden in a crevice beside the stone steps, she gasped with surprise. “We were told that these had been put into your cell with you!” she said. “So that you would have bedding, and some comforts.”

“Who told you that?” asked Barda grimly.

“The First Ra-Kachar,” she whispered. “He said he had brought them to you himself.”

“Well, he did not, as you can see,” snapped Jasmine, pulling her bag onto her back.

They crept up the steps. The passage above was empty, but they could hear a few distant voices.

“We must escape the city,” Barda whispered. “Which way should we go?”

“There is no way out.” Tira shook her head hopelessly. “The gate in the hill is locked and barred. Those who work in the fields are taken out each morning and brought back at night. No one else may leave, on pain of death.”

“There must be another way!” hissed Lief.

She hesitated, then shook her head. But Jasmine had seen the hesitation, and pounced.

“What did you think of, just then? Tell us what is in your mind!” she urged.

Tira licked her lips. “It is said … it is said that the Hole leads, in the end, to the outside world. But —”

“What is the Hole?” demanded Barda. “Where is it?”

“It is near the kitchens,” shuddered Tira. “It is where they throw the food that has not passed inspection. But it is — forbidden.”

“Take us there!” hissed Jasmine fiercely. “Take us there now!”

T
hey crept like thieves through the corridors, darting into side passages whenever they heard someone approaching. Finally they reached a small metal door.

“This leads to the walkways above the kitchens,” Tira whispered. “The walkways are used by the Ra-Kacharz, to watch the work below, and by those whose task it is to wash the kitchen walls.”

She opened the door a crack. From the space beyond poured the smell of cooking, and a muffled clattering.

“Be very silent,” the girl breathed. “Tread softly. Then we will not be noticed. The night cooks work at speed. They have much to do before dawn.”

She slipped through the door, and the companions followed her. The sight that met their eyes astonished them.

They were standing on a narrow metal walkway. Far below lay the great kitchens of Noradz, clattering with sound and blazing with light. The kitchens were huge — as big as a small village — and filled with working people dressed as Tira was, but all in gleaming white.

Some were peeling vegetables or preparing fruits. Others were mixing, baking, stirring pots that bubbled on the huge stoves. Thousands of cakes cooled on racks, waiting to be iced and decorated. Hundreds of pies and tarts were being lifted from the great ovens. At one side, a team was packing prepared foods into boxes and glass or stone jars.

“But — surely this does not go on every day and every night?” gasped Lief in amazement. “How much food can the people of Noradz eat?”

“Only a small amount of the food prepared is eaten,” Tira whispered back. “Much of what is cooked does not pass the inspection and is wasted.” She sighed. “The cooks are valued, trained from their youngest days, but I would not like to be one of them. It makes them sad to try so hard, and to fail so often.”

They crept along the walkway, looking down, fascinated, at the activity below. They had been moving for about five minutes when Tira stopped and crouched.

“Ra-Kachaz!” she breathed.

Sure enough, two red-clad figures were striding into the kitchens.

“It is an inspection,” whispered Tira.

The Ra-Kacharz moved quickly to a place where four cooks stood, their hands behind their backs. Hundreds of jars of sugared fruits, bright as jewels, were lined up on a counter, awaiting inspection.

The Ra-Kacharz paced along the line of jars, staring at them closely. When they had reached the end, they turned and paced back again. This time they pointed at certain jars, and these the cooks picked up and put on another bench.

When finally the inspection was finished, six jars of fruit had been separated from the rest.

“Those are the jars that will be blessed, and eaten by the people,” said Tira. “The rest have been rejected.” She gazed with sympathy at the cooks, who, shoulders sagging with disappointment, had begun packing the rejected jars into a huge metal bin.

Lief, Barda, and Jasmine stared, horrified. The fruit all looked delicious and wholesome to them. “This is wicked!” Lief muttered angrily, as the Ra-Kacharz turned and strode away to another part of the kitchens. “In Del, people are starving, scrabbling for scraps. And here, good food is wasted!”

Tira shook her head. “It is not good food,” she insisted earnestly. “The Ra-Kacharz know when food is unclean. By their inspections the Ra-Kacharz protect the people from disease and illness. Noradzeer.”

Lief would have liked to argue. Jasmine, too, was red with anger. But Barda shook his head at them,
warning them to be silent. Lief bit his lips. He knew that Barda was right. They needed Tira’s help. There was no point in upsetting her. She was not to understand how things were in the rest of Deltora. She knew only her place, and the laws with which she had grown up.

In silence they moved on along the walkway and at last came to the end of the kitchens. Steep metal steps led down to the ground just in front of a door.

“The Hole is through that door,” Tira said in a low voice. “But —”

She broke off and crouched once more, gesturing to her companions to do the same. The four cooks who had made the sugared fruits walked into view below, carrying the bin of rejected jars between them. The bin was now sealed tightly with a metal lid. They carried it through the door, and disappeared from sight.

“They are going to put the bin into the Hole,” Tira whispered.

A few moments later the cooks came back and walked off to their part of the kitchens to begin the task of preparing food all over again. Tira, Lief, Barda, and Jasmine crept down the steps, passed shelves lined with pots and pans, and slipped through the door.

They found themselves in a small, bare room. To their left was a red-painted door. Facing them, on the wall opposite the kitchens, a metal grille barred the round, dark entrance to the Hole.

“Where does the red door lead?” asked Barda.

“To the sleeping quarters of the Nine,” Tira whispered. “They sleep in turns, it is said, coming through this door when inspections are due.”

She glanced nervously over her shoulder. “Let us leave here, now. I brought you here because you demanded it. But at any moment we may be surprised.”

The companions crept closer to the Hole and peered through the grille. Dimly they saw the beginning of a tunnel lined with stone that seemed to gleam red. The tunnel’s roof and sides were rounded. It was very narrow, and sloped down into blackness. Deep within it, something growled, long and low.

“What is inside?” murmured Lief.

“We do not know,” answered Tira. “Only the Ra-Kacharz can enter the Hole and survive.”

“So they tell you!” said Lief scornfully.

But Tira shook her head. “In my life I have seen two people try to escape the city through the Hole,” she said softly. “Both were brought out stiff and dead. Their eyes were open and staring. Their hands were torn and blistered. There was foam on their lips.” She shuddered. “It is said that they died of terror.”

The dull roar sounded again from the tunnel. They peered into its darkness, but could see nothing.

“Tira, do you know where our weapons are?” asked Barda urgently. “The swords — and the daggers?”

Tira nodded warily. “They are waiting at the furnace,” she whispered. “Tomorrow they will be melted down, to be made into new things for the kitchen.”

“Get them for us!” Barda urged.

She shook her head. “I cannot!” she hissed desperately. “It is forbidden to touch them, and already I have committed terrible crimes for you.”

“All we want is to leave here!” exclaimed Lief. “How can that hurt your people? And no one will ever know that it was you who helped us.”

“Reece is the First of the Nine,” murmured Tira. “His word is law.”

“Reece does not deserve your loyalty,” hissed Barda furiously. “You have seen for yourself that he lies and cheats, and makes a mockery of your laws! If anyone deserves to die, it is he!”

But in saying this, he had gone too far. Tira’s cheeks flushed, her eyes widened, and she turned and ran back into the kitchen. The door swung closed behind her.

Barda sighed impatiently. “I frightened her,” he muttered. “I should have guarded my tongue! What will we do now?”

“We will make the best of it.” Determinedly, Lief lifted the grille from the tunnel entrance. “If the Ra-Kacharz can enter the Hole and live, so can we — with weapons or without.”

He turned and beckoned to Jasmine. She backed away, shaking her head.

“I cannot go,” she said loudly. “I thought Filli might be here, waiting for me. But he is not. He would not leave Noradz without me, and I will not leave without him.”

Lief felt like shaking her. “Jasmine! There is no time to waste!” he urged. “Stop this foolishness!”

She turned her clear green gaze to him. “I am not asking you and Barda to remain,” she said calmly. “You began this quest without me, and so you can continue.” She looked away. “Perhaps — it may be better, in any case,” she added.

“What do you mean?” Lief demanded. “Why would it be better?”

She shrugged. “We do not agree on — some things,” she said. “I am not sure —”

But she never finished what she had to say, for at that moment the red door behind her burst open and Reece strode in, his black eyes glistening with triumphant fury. Before she could move he had grabbed her with one powerful arm and lifted her off her feet.

“So, girl!” he snarled in her ear. “My ears did not deceive me. By what witchcraft did you escape from your cell?”

Lief and Barda started towards him but he lashed out at them with his whip, holding them back.

“Spies!” he growled. “Now your wickedness is proved. Now you invade our kitchens — to guide your evil creature to them, no doubt. When the people hear this, they will be happy for you to die a thousand deaths.”

Jasmine struggled, but his grip was like iron.

“You cannot escape, girl,” he sneered. “Even now,
others of the Nine are stirring beyond this door. Your friends will die before you. I trust you will enjoy hearing their screams.”

He lashed at Lief and Barda with his whip, driving them back, slowly but surely, towards the Hole.