Deltora Quest #7: The Valley of the Lost by Emily Rodda Read Free Book Online Page A

trees that ringed the lip of the cliff. In amazement, Lief and Barda watched her lift Filli fromher shoulder and put him onto the highest branch she could reach. Kree fluttered up beside him.
    “I know you will take care of one another,” Jasmine said. “Keep safe.”
    She turned and, without looking back, walked back to Lief and Barda. She met their questioning eyes calmly. “I told you,” she said. “Kree and Filli do not like the valley. They cannot go there.”
    “Why?” Lief burst out. He looked down to where Kree and Filli still perched on their branch, staring after Jasmine forlornly.
    Jasmine shrugged. “If they go there they will die,” she said simply. “The valley is not for them. Or any creature. The mist will kill them.”
    A shiver ran down Lief’s back. “What about us?” he asked abruptly.
    “There are people down there. I can see their shadows in the mist,” said Jasmine. “And if they can survive, so can we. We will go down to where the mist begins. Then we will decide what to do.”
    Abruptly, she swung around and held up her hand to Filli and Kree. Then she turned once more, pulled her cap more firmly over her ears, and scrambled over the edge of the cliff.
    Lief and Barda followed. The ground beneath their feet was steep and treacherous, slippery with loose stones. Half walking, half sliding, always in danger of falling, they moved down and down. After only a fewminutes, Lief lost the sense that he was walking of his own accord. The slippery stones, the steepness of the slope, were doing all the work for him. From the cliff edge, the valley floor had seemed very far away. Now it was growing closer by the moment.
    Once, he looked back. The cliff-top towered high above them. Impossibly high. Impossibly far away. It was hard to believe he and his friends had ever stood there. Hard to believe that they had ever had the choice of descending, staying where they were, or even turning their backs and walking away from the valley.
    For now it seemed that there was no choice. The closer they moved to the crawling mist, the more it seemed to draw them, and the steeper the slope became. It took far more energy to stand still than to move on. The companions clutched one another for support, but they could do little to help one another.
    And before they realized it, the mist was around them. It was as if it had risen to meet them, brushing their faces with warm, damp fingers, casting a haze over their eyes. Slowly it stole into their mouths and noses, filling them with its oversweet scent, its taste of decay.
    This was not the plan, Lief thought in confusion. He tried to stop in mid-stride, then slipped and fell, rolling blindly, gasping and scrambling on the stones. He heard Jasmine and Barda calling him in alarm, but could do nothing to save himself.
    When finally he came to a stop, he realized that he was on the valley floor. The mist swirled thick abouthim. Shadowy trees, thick with mold, hung with vines, stretched above his head. Great clumps of glistening dark red fungus bulged from twisted roots beside his face. Lush ferns arched around him, brushing his face and his hands as he scrambled, panting, to his feet.
    And everywhere there was a soft sighing, like wind in the trees. But there was no wind. The sound seemed to come from everywhere, from all around him, out of the swirling greyness where darker shadows slipped and writhed, moving closer.
    “Barda! Jasmine!” Lief shouted, gripped with sudden terror. But the mist muffled his voice so that it sounded thin and piping. And when his friends answered, their voices sounded far, far away.
    He called again. He thought he heard a cry of pain, and his stomach lurched. But then he saw his friends stumbling towards him out of the gloom. He lurched forward, gripping their arms thankfully.
    “Well, we are still alive, in any case,” growled Barda. “The mist has not killed us yet.”
    But Jasmine said nothing. She had drawn her dagger and was