Deltora Quest #7: The Valley of the Lost by Emily Rodda Page A

despair.
    Outside the windows, heavy mist rolled in darkness, shadowy figures drifted, fingers trailed across glass, haunted eyes stared. How much time had passed? Lief found he did not know. He clutched at the Belt under his shirt as he felt panic rising within him once more.
    “The clue is here somewhere. We know it,” he said, managing to keep his voice steady, the amethyst cool under his fingers. “We will simply begin the search again.”
    They moved on, and on, rechecking every space, till they reached the curtained study where they had begun.
    “We searched this room from top to bottom,” Barda muttered. “Surely there is no point …”
    But they had to enter the study. None of them could resist the urge to look at the candle, to know how much time they had left.
    Lief had braced himself for what he might see, but even he could not keep back a gasp of horror as he saw how low the flame now burned. The candle was just astub, almost smothered by a thick mass of hardened drips. It could not last much longer.
    “We cannot go on with this,” Jasmine said urgently. “We must smash the glass door, take the diamond, and run, Lief, whatever you say. We must do it now!”
    “She is right, Lief, I fear,” said Barda, his eyes on the flame.
    Lief shook his head despairingly. He knew, knew , that this would be a terrible mistake. Yet what choice had they? There was plainly no time to waste. No time to search the palace again. No time to think …
    Jasmine had begun darting around the room, looking for something heavy that she could use to shatter the glass. Finding nothing better, she swept the books off the low table and began dragging it determinedly towards the door.
    “No!” shouted Lief. “You must not!”
    Jasmine swung around furiously. “I must! Do you not understand, Lief? What is the matter with you? It is too late now to worry about a warning in some old book! We cannot win the diamond. The Guardian’s rhyme, with its riddling talk of twins that do not exist, has defeated us. This is the only way!”
    She turned again and went on heaving at the table. After a brief hesitation, Barda went to join her. Pushing her aside, he lifted the table clear of the rug and carried it to the glass door.
    Lief sprang at him, pulling urgently at his arm. Buthe had no chance against Barda’s strength. The big man shook him off ruthlessly, sending him sprawling to the ground.
    “Stand back,” Barda said grimly. “The glass will shatter. Cover your eyes.”
    Lief crawled to his knees, his head spinning. Barda was already swinging the table back, steadying himself, preparing to strike. Lief ducked his head. The rug, with its flowers, fruit, and birds, was soft under his hands. The two hermits stared solemnly up at him. Two pairs of eyes. Two beards. Two long, plain robes, tied at the waist …
    Lief stared. The blood rushed to his face. “Twins!” he shouted, staggering to his feet. “Barda, stop! The twins! I have found them!”
    He pointed desperately at the rug as Barda slowly lowered the table and Jasmine stamped with frustration and anger.
    “They were here all the time!” Lief babbled. “We hardly noticed them because they were under the table, and under our feet. But now you can see clearly. The hermits seem exactly alike. They look like twins! But they are not exactly alike at all!”
    By this time, Jasmine and Barda were by his side, staring at the rug. Lief snatched out the paper he had stuffed in his pocket.
    “The sum of errors in the twin,” he read. “That must mean the number of differences between one hermit and the other.”
    “ Are there differences?” demanded Jasmine, glancing worriedly over her shoulder at the weak candle flame. “Where?”

    “Look at the cord around the waist,” Lief urged. “In one picture it is knotted on the left side, in the other it is knotted on the right.”
    “And the bird!” Barda exclaimed. “In one picture it has a crest, in the other it does