The mist swirled about them as they walked. Ferns and vines brushed their legs and faces. Shadows flickered at the edge of their vision. The valley’s people were watching, but not daring to come near.
In front of them strode the Guardian, straight-backed and tall.
“If this Guardian is taking us to his cave, or hut, or wherever he lives, so much the better,” whispered Jasmine. “That will be where he keeps —”
She broke off, glancing at Neridah, who tossed her head angrily. “I know about the great diamond!” she said, in a high voice. “Why do you think I followed you here? For the sake of your fine company?”
She stared fearfully at the Guardian’s back. “I thought you would be bound to succeed, no matter who else had failed,” she went on, her voice trembling. “I did not dream that you would have us captured and helpless within moments of setting foot in the valley!”
“We have been captured before, and saved ourselves,” hissed Jasmine. “We will do it again. We still have our weapons.”
“He spoke of games,” Lief said slowly. “He likes games. What do you think he means?”
Barda grimaced. “Nothing pleasant, in any case. But surely it proves, at least, that he is a man, not an Ol or some other beast in human shape. It is humans who like games.”
“And if he is only a man we can defeat him, for all his magic,” said Jasmine. “Defeat him, and take the gem. We have only to wait, and learn his weaknesses.”
Lief hesitated. He, too, believed that the Guardian was human beneath the trappings of his magic power. But he was not so sure that this would make their task any easier. And something was still nagging at his memory. Something that made his skin prickle with warning whenever he thought of the diamond.
They walked for what seemed a long time, crossing a deep stream and moving at last into a clearing. Abruptly, the Guardian stopped and held up his hand. Lights began to glow through the mist. As the companions drew closer, they saw that the lights were shining inside a domed glass palace.
Mist tumbled outside the glass walls, shining eerily in the reflected light. Hundreds of shadowy grey figures shuffled in the haze. But within the palace, rich colors glowed. The many rooms were full of fine furniture, bright rugs and paintings, gold and silver statues, silken cushions and hangings. The whole glittered like a jewel.
The Guardian had stood aside so that his prisoners could better see the palace’s wonder. Now he smiled proudly at their astonished faces.
“A dwelling fit for a king, you will agree,” he said.
When none of them answered him, his smile disappeared and a scowl took its place.
“We will go inside,” he snapped. “Perhaps that will loosen your tongues and make you more agreeable.” He tugged the cords that he held in his hands and four shapes lumbered from behind him, out of the mist.
Lief heard Neridah gasp. And indeed his own breath caught in his throat as he saw the creatures emerging from the swirling grey.
Hairless, gross, and misshapen, covered in sores and boils, twisted arms hanging almost to the ground, the monsters grinned and slobbered as they stared at the prisoners. The rubbery cords that bound them to their master coiled from puffy red centers in the backs of their necks. Sickened, Lief realized that the cords were part of them. Flesh of their flesh.
“Here are my pets — my companions,” said the Guardian. “I have kept them hidden until now, not wishing to alarm you. But you will learn to love them, as I have done. Perhaps you already do so, though you do not know it. They are fine, strong monsters, are they not? They protect me, and keep me company. Their names are Pride, Envy, Hate, and Greed.”
As he spoke, he lightly flicked the monsters on the head one by one. The moment it felt his touch, each creature swayed and groaned with pleasure.
The Guardian smiled. “Their names are a little joke of mine,” he said. “For though each has one of the faults I have mentioned, none has that fault after which it is named. Greed is not greedy, Pride is not proud, Envy is not envious. Hate is not envious, either, not at all. But more important, it has never hated in its life. You see? Is that not amusing?”
Again receiving no reply, he turned and walked to a door set into one of the palace walls. The door swung open and he stood back.
Lief, Barda, Jasmine, and Neridah at once found themselves moving to the door. In a moment they were inside the palace, and the Guardian was following. The monsters crowded after him, grunting, their leads flopping horribly from their necks. In the crush, three of them began to snarl and claw at one another.
Their master barked an angry command, kicking out at them savagely. When at last they had quietened, he turned back to the companions.
“Like children, my pets sometimes do not agree, and need a firm hand,” he said smoothly. “The envious one and the proud one are both very afraid of Greed. But they will fight if they have to. For, after all, they are linked together and cannot escape.”
The door swung shut with a soft click.
Lief looked around, blinking in the bright light. The room they had entered was vast, and furnished with every luxury. A fountain splashed and sparkled in its center. Velvet cushions lay in heaps upon the shining floor. Soft music played, though Lief could not see where the sound was coming from.
At one end of the room was a long table draped in a white cloth and gleaming with silver and crystal. Long white candles burned in exquisite candlesticks among dishes full of steaming, fragrant food.
Five places had been laid. Two on each side of the table, one at the head.
The Guardian rubbed his hands with a dry, rasping sound. “So — now we are alone,” he said. “Now we can enjoy each other’s company. Fine food and drink. Music. Conversation. And, later, perhaps, the game.”
The food looked and smelled delicious, but to the companions it tasted like dust and ashes, and they ate little. They spoke little, too, for it was clear from the beginning that what their host wanted was not a conversation, but an audience.
His voice flowed on as he sat at the head of the table, his hideous pets squatting behind his chair. The leads, Lief saw, were attached to his wrists, no doubt by bands hidden under his sleeves. This way, his hands could be free while the beasts remained under his control.
“I was born to great riches, but through the wickedness and envy of others I lost everything,” he said, pouring golden wine into a crystal goblet. “I was driven out of my home. No one would raise a hand to help me. Alone, grieving, despairing, and despised, I took refuge in this valley. My only companions at first were the birds and other small creatures. But —”
“There are no birds or small creatures in this valley,” Jasmine broke in. “Or none that I have seen.”
The Guardian glanced at her under his eyebrows, plainly annoyed by the interruption. “They have gone,” he snapped. “They had no place here once I was transformed, and the valley became the Valley of the Lost.”
He leaned forward, his red eyes gleaming hotly in the candlelight. “Do you not want to know how this miracle occurred?” he demanded. “Do you not want to know how I, an outcast, gained new wealth, a new kingdom, and powers a thousand times greater than those I had lost?”
He did not wait for them to answer, but continued as though there had been no interruption.
“A voice spoke to me as I sat grieving. It whispered to me night and day. It reminded me of how I had been wronged. Of how I had been betrayed. Of what I had lost. I thought at first that it would make me mad. But then — then …”
The gleaming eyes grew glazed. And when he spoke again, it was as if he had forgotten the visitors were with him. It was as if he was telling himself the story — a story he had told many, many times before.
“Then I saw the answer,” he muttered. “I saw that light had betrayed me, but darkness would give me strength. I saw that all through my life I had been following the wrong path. I saw that evil would succeed where good had failed. And then I accepted evil. I welcomed it into my heart. And so I was reborn — as the Guardian.”