Deltora Quest #4: The Shifting Sands by Emily Rodda Read Free Book Online Page A

would not be honorable …” he began.
    “Not honorable ?” hissed Jasmine. “What has honor to do with this?” She spun around to Lief. “Tell him!” she urged.
    Lief hesitated. He was not troubled, as Barda was, by the idea of deceiving the organizers of the Games, oreven the crowd. On the streets of Del, honor among friends was all that was required, and survival was the only rule. But part of his mind — the part that still simmered with anger over the warning note and the locked door — rebelled against Jasmine’s plan.
    “Our rivals will know, if we do not try to win. It will seem that we are at last bowing to their threats,” he said in a low voice.
    Jasmine snorted in disgust. “You are as foolish as Barda! Will you risk our quest for the sake of your pride? Oh, I have no patience with you!”
    She turned her back and stalked away.

    That evening the finalists ate together in the dining hall attended by Mother Brightly, smiling and bright in her ruffled red dress. It was a strange meal, for where only the night before the room had been busy and filled with noise, now it was empty and echoing. The defeated competitors, it seemed, had already been sent away. Lief wondered how they were faring, for many of them were injured and almost all without money.
    Jasmine was still angry. She ate little and drank only water. “That Queen Bee Cider is too rich for me,” she muttered. “The thought of it sickens me. The air in the arena stank of it. The people in the seats were drinking it all day.”
    Barda frowned. “It should not be sold to them. It is intended for use by fighters, who need massive energy,not for those who simply sit and look on. No wonder they cry for blood.”
    Just then Mother Brightly rang a small bell.
    “One word before you begin retiring to your rooms, my dears,” she said, as all the finalists turned to her. “I want no tricks or trouble here tonight, so I plan to take your keys and lock your doors myself. I will unlock them in the morning immediately after the waking bell.”
    There was complete silence in the room. The woman looked around, her plump face very serious. “So sleep soundly and regain your strength,” she went on. “Tomorrow you must show no sign of weakness or lack of purpose. The crowd — well, it is always very excited on the final day. Very excited, indeed. It has been known for finalists who do not perform well to be attacked and torn to pieces. I would not like this to happen to any of you.”
    Lief’s stomach seemed to turn over. He did not dare glance at Jasmine or Barda. So this was how the Games organizers made sure that all the finalists tried their best at the last. The crowd was their weapon — the crowd, swarming, acting with one mind, excited to fever pitch and hungry for blood.

T he arena was already growing warm when they reached it in the morning. The sun glared down on one side of the newly raked sand. The other side was in deep shadow. The benches were packed, the crowd simmering with excitement.
    The eight finalists raised their hands and repeated their pledge to fight their best. Then they stepped forward one by one to choose a card from the woven basket held up by a smiling Mother Brightly.
    Lief looked at his card, his heart in his mouth. The number upon it was 3. He glanced at Barda and Jasmine and to his relief saw that Barda was holding up number 1, and Jasmine number 4. So, for this round at least, they were not to fight each other. But who were their opponents to be?
    He looked around and his heart sank as he saw scar-faced Doom walking towards Barda, holding hiscard high so that all could see the number 1 upon it. The giant Orwen had drawn the second number 4 and was already standing with Jasmine, who looked like a child beside him. Glock and Joanna had both drawn cards marked 2. So the only one who remained was Neridah the Swift. And, sure enough, there she was, hurrying towards him showing the 3 card that proved she was paired with