The Valley of the Lost

Lief did not dare look at his friends, or at Neridah. He gripped the arms of his chair till his knuckles grew white, in the effort not to show what he was feeling.

But clearly the Guardian was not deceived. He smiled around the table, his red eyes greedily drinking in the expressions on the faces of his guests. Then he took the last few scraps from his plate and carelessly tossed them to the floor. The four monsters scrambled after the food, each fighting savagely for a share. He watched with a smile.

“Envy once nearly killed the greedy one at a dinner such as this,” he commented idly, as the tumult at last died down. “Ah well.”

Slowly, he pushed back his chair and stood up, the misshapen creatures shuffling and drooling behind him. “And now it is time for the game,” he said. “The time I love the best. Come with me.”

He had no need to ask them. Their feet followed him, whether they wished it or not, as he swept through one gleaming space after another, the monsters following him closely.

At last they reached a room that was plainly where he spent most of his time. Deep red curtains covered the walls, screening out the mist and the other rooms. Fine drawings and paintings, and a huge mirror in a carved frame, hung from the fabric.

On the floor was a rug rich in flowers, fruits, and birds, with a picture of a humble hermit repeated at each end. One of the Guardian’s little jokes, thought Lief. Nowhere else in this valley would simple, beautiful living things be found. Upon the rug, in front of a couch heaped with cushions, stood a low table scattered with books. Hundreds more books packed shelves towering around the walls.

The Guardian did not pause, but walked straight across the room and pulled aside the curtain to reveal a glass door set into one wall. He did not open the door, but stepped aside and, with a wave of his arm, invited the companions to look through to the space beyond.

It was a small room that contained only a glass table set exactly in its center. On the table was a golden casket.

“The gem you seek is in that casket,” said the Guardian. His voice trembled. Plainly, he could hardly contain his gleeful excitement. “Whoever matches wits with me and wins can enter the room and take the prize.”

Lief pressed himself against the glass of the door. The Belt of Deltora warmed faintly against his skin, proof that the Guardian spoke the truth. The great diamond was in that room. The Belt could feel it.

Barda pushed at the door with his shoulder, but it did not move.

Again the Guardian cackled. “No force can unlock this door. It is sealed by magic, and so it will remain, until you have won the right to open it. So — will you play?”

“Do we have a choice?” Jasmine muttered.

The Guardian raised his eyebrows. “Why, of course!” he exclaimed. “If you so wish, you can leave here now, empty-handed. Turn your backs on the gem you came to find. Go back where you came from! I will not stop you.”

Lief, Barda, and Jasmine glanced at one another.

“If we win the game and enter the room, the diamond is ours to keep?” Lief wanted to make absolutely sure. “You will allow us to leave the valley, taking our prize with us? You swear this?”

“Certainly!” said the Guardian. “That is the rule. Your prize will be yours to keep.”

“And if we fail?” Barda asked abruptly. “What then?”

The Guardian spread his hands. The fleshy leads swung free from his wrists and the monsters stirred behind him. “Then — why, then, you are mine to keep. Then you will remain here, like all the others who have chosen to match wits with me. You will become part of the Valley of the Lost. Forever.”

The companions stood motionless beside the door. Outside the small room where the casket lay, despairing grey hands brushed the glass through billowing mist.

“Will you accept the challenge?” murmured the Guardian. His eyes burned like hot coals as he waited for their answer.

“We need to know more before we decide,” said Barda evenly.

But Neridah was shaking her head. “I do not need to know more!” she exclaimed. “I have already decided. These three can do what they wish, but I will play no game!”

The Guardian bowed, though the corner of his mouth twitched with scorn. “Then you may go, lady,” he said, carelessly waving his arm.

Neridah staggered as the spell that had bound her was broken. She backed away, then turned and ran from the room without looking back.

The Guardian sighed. “A pity,” he muttered. “I thought she, of all of you, would find the diamond’s lure impossible to resist. Perhaps, even now, she will change her mind and return. The smell of greed and envy is strong on her.”

He turned to the creatures at his heels and petted them, one by one. “You sensed it keenly, did you not, my sweets?” he crooned. The monsters grunted and snuffled agreement, rubbing their bloated faces adoringly against his hands.

Without bothering to turn around, he flicked a finger in the companions’ direction. With relief they felt their invisible bonds relax. Suddenly they could move freely.

The Guardian strolled to the mirror and began looking at himself with appreciation, smoothing his beard and smiling. Lief’s fingers itched to reach for his sword, to attack. But he knew, as Barda and Jasmine did, that it would be no use. Hate, Greed, Pride, and Envy were facing them, jagged teeth bared. At a single warning sound the Guardian would turn and cast another spell — a spell even more powerful, perhaps, than the last.

“It is time for me to sleep,” he said at last, turning away from the mirror with a yawn. “Unlike my subjects, I still have these needs of the flesh. What more do you wish to know?”

He is sure that we long for the diamond, Lief thought. He felt our need, as we looked at the casket. Still — his need is great, too. He pretends he does not care, but he dearly wants us to play his game. His pride drives him to prove himself more powerful and clever than we are, to crush and defeat us. That is his weakness.

“We cannot make up our minds to play unless we know more about the game,” Jasmine said loudly. “What is it? How is it played?”

The Guardian frowned, hesitating.

“You want us to play, do you not?” Lief urged. “And we — we want the diamond, I confess. But we would be fools to endanger our freedom blindly. We need to know that it is possible to win.”

The Guardian’s eyes narrowed. “Of course it is possible!” he snapped. “Do you accuse me of cheating?”

“No,” said Lief. “But some games are matters of chance, and luck. Your game may be one of these. And if so —”

“Mine is not a game of chance!” shouted the Guardian. “It is a battle of wits!”

“Then prove it,” Barda said quietly. “Tell us what we must do.”

The Guardian thought for a moment. Then he smiled. “It seems that you are to be worthy players,” he said. “Very well. I will tell you. All you must do is find out one word. The word that will unlock the door. And that word is — my true name.”

The companions stared at him in silence. Of all the things they might have expected, this was the last.

The Guardian nodded with satisfaction, well pleased by their surprise. “The clues to the riddle are in this palace,” he added teasingly. “And the first, hidden in this very room!”

Barda straightened his shoulders. “We would be grateful for some time alone to discuss our decision, sir,” he said, using his most polite and formal voice.

“Certainly!” The Guardian bowed. “I am a very reasonable man, and will allow you that courtesy. But I pray you, do not try my patience. I will return in a short time, and then I must have your answer.”

Gathering his creatures’ leads in his hands, he turned and left them.