Emily Rodda - Deltora Quest #7 - The Valley of the Lost

“Then why bother with all this talk of a game?” Jasmine muttered. “He could kill us whenever he chose!”

Lief shuddered. “Perhaps he is just entertaining himself. Playing with us, as a cat plays with a mouse.”

“Perhaps,” said Barda. “But perhaps not. He did not know when we would come. And if he has been warned of a boy, a man, and a girl with a black bird, he may not realize that we are the ones. Kree is not with us, Jasmine is dressed as a boy, and we came here with Neridah.”

“At least, then, she was of some use,” Jasmine sniffed.

Lief was frantically flicking through the little book. On every page were well-remembered words and phrases, but he was looking for just one thing. The passage about the powers of the diamond.

At last, he found it.

† The diamond is the symbol of innocence, purity, and strength. Diamonds gained nobly, and with a pure heart, are a powerful force for good. They give courage and strength, protect from pestilence, and help the cause of true love. But take heed of this warning: Diamonds gained by treachery or violence, or desired out of envy or greed, are ill omens, and bring bad fortune. Great evil comes upon those who gain them without honor.

“This — this is what I was trying to remember,” said Lief rapidly, showing the passage to his companions. “ This is why we cannot steal the diamond!”

His friends looked at the book, then at one another. “This warning is not for us!” Jasmine protested. “Why, we do not want the gem out of greed or envy. We would be stealing it for a good reason. We would be rescuing it from the hands of evil and restoring it to its rightful place!”

Lief shook his head. “The words are clear,” he insisted. “The diamond must be gained without force or trickery. Otherwise it will bring us nothing but ill — as it has brought the Guardian!”

“And so …?” muttered Barda.

Lief sighed, closing the book and pushing it back into its place on the table. “The Guardian must give it to us freely. And there is only one way we can make him do that. His pride is his weakness, and this game of his is important to that pride. I believe if we can win it, he will be forced to —”

At that moment, they heard the sound of footsteps. The Guardian was returning. He swept into the room, his pets lumbering behind him.

“Well?” he demanded. “Have you made your decision?”

Lief and Barda looked quickly at Jasmine. She paused, then grimaced and gave a slight nod. Barda stepped forward.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “We will play.”

The monsters whined and pulled at their leads in excitement. The Guardian’s eyes burned.

“Excellent!” he hissed. He pointed at a tall, unlit candle that stood on the table below the mirror. A flickering yellow flame appeared.

“The life of this candle will be the time you have to open the door into the casket room,” he said. “If the door remains unopened when the candle dies, you will admit defeat and become mine. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” The companions said the word together, without flinching.

The Guardian again rubbed his hands. “I wish you good night, then,” he smiled. “Explore as you wish. The first clue is in this room, as I told you. In one way it is hidden. In another, it is as plain as the nose on your face.”

He walked to the door, but before going on he turned once more. “A word of advice. You have one chance to open the door, and one chance only. Do not waste your chance on a guess.”

He smiled thinly. “I will see you in the morning. To claim my victory.”

With that, he swept from the room, with his creatures following him. But as soon as he was out of their sight, his triumphant, cackling laughter began. It echoed around the glass walls of his palace like a hundred voices, fading slowly into the distance, as he went to his rest.

For an hour the companions searched the room, seeking anything, anything at all, that would give them a clue to the Guardian’s name.

The books on the shelves were of no use. They crumbled to dust as Barda pulled them from their places. The papers in the drawers of the cabinets were yellowed and brittle. They, too, cracked and crumbled at a touch. The pictures revealed no clue. There was nothing behind the curtains but glass and mist.

“He thinks he has everything — but he has nothing!” exclaimed Jasmine. “His wonderful food is ashes. His beautiful books are dust. His companions are disgusting, drooling beasts. His kingdom is a place of misery. How can he be so blind?”

“It is we who are blind,” Barda said through gritted teeth, his eyes on the slowly dripping candle. “He said there was a clue in this room, and I am sure he was telling the truth. But what clue? Where?”

“He said there was a clue hidden in this room!” Lief buried his face in his hands, trying to concentrate. “We have looked under everything, behind everything, inside everything. So that means it is hidden in another way.”

“Hidden by magic!” Jasmine looked around the room in desperation. “And that would make sense of the other thing he said — that in one way it was hidden, and in another it was as plain as the nose on your face.”

“The nose on your face! Why, of course!” thundered Barda, leaping to his feet. As his companions watched, astonished, he strode across the room and looked into the mirror. For a moment the others saw his face, strangely softened and youthful, reflected in the glass. Then the image disappeared and words appeared, shining white in the flickering light of the candle.

“But it makes no sense!” cried Jasmine in dismay. “No sense at all!”

“It does,” said Barda. “I have seen things like it before. It is a puzzle.”

“The rhyme tells us how many letters are in the Guardian’s name,” said Lief slowly. “It tells us how to find out what the letters are. But it is more difficult by far than any puzzle I have ever solved.”

He gripped the Belt of Deltora, wishing with all his heart that the topaz was at its full strength. Often before it had cleared and sharpened his mind. But its power increased as the moon grew full, and lessened as the moon waned. Tonight there was no moon at all.

If he and his companions were to solve this puzzle, they would have to solve it alone.

After copying the words from the mirror onto a scrap of paper that Jasmine found among her treasures, the companions sat and talked.

“The first line means simply that the name is to be found from clues within the palace,” Lief said. “Agreed?”

“Even I can see that!” exclaimed Jasmine, as Barda nodded. “But what of all the rest?”

“The next line means that the first letter of the name we seek is the same as the first letter of Pride’s great sin.”

“Well, that appears simple, too,” said Barda. “The first letter of Pride is P.”

“But that is hardly a puzzle at all!” Jasmine objected. “Surely it cannot be so easy.”

“It is not,” Lief said gloomily. “Do you not see, Barda? ‘Pride’ has a capital letter. It is a name. The name of one of the Guardian’s pets.”

“And the Guardian told us that none of his creatures had the fault for which it was named,” groaned Jasmine. “Pride’s sin must be envy, greed, or hatred. Ah — I begin to see now how this puzzle works. The first letter of the Guardian’s name must be E, G, or H.”