Deltora Quest #8: Return to Deltora Read Online Free PDF Page A

cloak like that,” she said to Lief. “The cloth is very rare. Worthy of the looms of Tora. How did you come by it?”
    “My mother made it for me.” Lief touched the rough fabric of his cloak.
    Zeean’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and Lief felt a flicker of pleasure mixed with pain. Pride at his mother’s skill. Fear for her.

    The rest of the day passed in a blur. When Lief thought of it afterwards, he remembered only pictures:
    Dain hurrying away to fetch Steven. Fardeep packing food. The eager faces of Kris and Lauran, the young Torans chosen as the decoys. Lauran having her silky hair curled and tangled so that it looked like Jasmine’s. Kris’s long black hair being cut to match Lief’s own. The golden arrowhead on the palm of his own hand. Blackbirds waiting silently in the trees.
    Then Steven’s cart trundling through the valley. Steven nodding, studying the message Barda had written. Steven sitting alone by Fardeep’s beehives, murmuring, drawing in the dust. The bees swarming up through the mist that shrouded the treetops, and speeding towards Broad River …
    Evening. Three people moving into the clearing. A big, roughly bearded man, a boy wearing a long cloak, and a wild-looking girl, a blackbird on her arm. Like looking in a mirror. Doom nodding with satisfaction. Zeean, very proud and upright, her eyes dark with fear. Peel, Kris, and Lauran embracing their families before slipping away to begin their perilous journey …
    Night. Air thick and hard to breathe. The slow slipping into sleep, and dreams. Dreams of desperate searching. Of legs that could not run. Of tied hands andblinded eyes. Of veiled faces and smiling masks that slipped aside to reveal writhing horrors. And, brooding over all, a crawling mass of scarlet and grey, the darkness at its center pulsing with malice.
    Calling him.

T he caravan jolted on the rough road. Inside, it was dim and stuffy. Hour after hour Lief, Barda, and Jasmine sat, listening to the sounds of jingling reins, creaking wheels, and two voices singing.
    Do I spy an Ol-io,
    Ol-io, Ol-io?
    Hello, wobbly Ol-io!
    You don’t bother me!
    It had been decided that it would attract too much attention if the whole party travelled together. Dain, Doom, Fardeep, and Zeean were moving overland.
    “Steven and Nevets are more than capable of defending you, if need be,” Doom had said.
    Lief was sure this was true. Still, his skin crept ashe thought of the strange brothers singing together on the driver’s seat at the front of the caravan.
    Barda, like the trained soldier he was, had taken the chance to sleep. Propped against a pile of rugs, he dozed as comfortably as if he were in a soft bed. But Jasmine was wide awake. Kree hunched beside her, his feathers ruffled indignantly. Filli slept inside her jacket. She frowned as the singing voices were raised once more.
    “It is all very well to be jolly,” she muttered. “But must they sing such nonsense?”
    Lief sighed agreement. Despite himself, he found he was following the foolish words.
    Time to stop and take the air,
    Ol-io, Ol-io.
    Trees ahead, the sky is clear,
    No more Ol-io!
    Lief sat bolt upright, his eyes widening. He had suddenly realized that the song was far from nonsense. All along, Steven had been sending them messages!
    “Soon we will be able to get out and stretch our legs,” he told Jasmine gleefully. “There are trees ahead, and no sign of Ols or Ak-Baba.”
    Jasmine stared at him, her frown deepening. Plainly, she thought he was losing his wits.

    Far away, a round old woman, her face as red and crinkled as a wizened apple, bent over clear water. Around her head swarmed a black cloud of bees.
    The woman was listening. Large silver fish hung in the water below her. Bubbles streamed from their mouths, making strange patterns on the surface.
    At last, the woman straightened and turned, settling her many shawls around her shoulders. The bees swirled before her. The patterns they made in the air mimicked the