They traveled through the night, keeping to the treetops, while below them unseen things rustled, growled, and hissed. Their path was winding, because Jasmine would move only through certain trees. “The good trees,” she called them.
Every now and then she would bend her head to the trunk of one such tree and seem to listen. “They tell me what is ahead,” she said, when Barda asked her about this. “They warn me of danger.” And when he raised his eyebrows at her in surprise, she stared back at him as though she did not see why he should not believe her.
She told them little about the place to which she was taking them. She said there was little she could tell.
“I only know that it is in the center of the middle Forest, the smallest one,” she said. “The birds will not venture into that Forest, but they say that at its heart is an evil, forbidden place. They call this place ‘The Dark.’ It has a terrible Guardian. Those who go there never leave it, and even the trees fear it.”
She turned to Lief, with the ghost of a smile. “Does it not sound like the place you seek?” she asked.
He nodded, and touched his sword for comfort.
Day was breaking when they crossed a small clearing and entered the middle Forest.
The trees hid all but a few rays of the sun here, and there was no sound at all. Not a bird called. Not an insect moved. Even the trees and vines through which they climbed were still, as though no breeze dared to disturb the dim, damp air.
Jasmine had begun to move more slowly and carefully. Filli huddled against her neck, his head hidden in her hair. Kree no longer flew ahead, but hopped and fluttered with them from one branch to the next.
“The trees tell us to go back,” Jasmine whispered. “They say that we will die.”
There was fear in her voice, but she did not stop. Lief and Barda followed her through the thickening Forest, their ears and eyes straining for any sound or sight of danger. Yet there was nothing but green all around them, and the silence was broken only by the sounds of their own movement.
Finally they reached a place where they could go no farther. Heavy, twisting vines criss-crossed and tangled together, smothering the huge trees, making a barrier like a huge, living net. The three companions searched to left and to right, and found that the vine net made a full circle, enclosing whatever was inside.
“It is the center,” breathed Jasmine. She put up her arm to Kree, who flew to her at once.
“We must go down to the ground,” said Barda.
Jasmine shook her head. “There is terrible danger here,” she murmured. “The trees are silent, and will not answer me.”
“Perhaps they are dead,” Lief whispered. “Strangled by the vines.”
Jasmine shook her head again. Her eyes were filled with grief, pity, and anger. “They are not dead. But they are bound. They are prisoners. They are — in torment.”
“Lief, we must go down,” Barda muttered again. Plainly, this talk of trees having feelings made him uncomfortable. He thought Jasmine was more than a little mad. He turned to her. “We thank you for all you have done for us,” he said politely. “But you can do no more. We must go on alone.”
Leaving the girl crouching in the treetops, they began to half-climb, half-slide towards the forest floor. Lief looked up once and caught a glimpse of her. She was still watching them, the raven perched on her arm. With her other hand she was stroking Filli, sheltering under her hair.
They slipped lower, lower. And suddenly, Lief felt something that made his heart leap with fearful excitement. The steel Belt, hidden beneath his clothes, was warming, tingling on his skin.
“We are in the right place,” he hissed to Barda. “One of the gems is nearby. The Belt feels it.”
He saw Barda’s lips tighten. He thought he knew what the big man was thinking. If the gem was near, a terrible enemy was also near. How much easier, Barda must be thinking, if he were alone, with no one else to think about.
“Do not worry about me,” Lief whispered, trying to keep his voice steady and calm. “Nothing matters but that we seize the gem. If I die in the attempt, it will not be your fault. You must take the Belt from my body and go on alone, as you have always wished.”
Barda glanced at him quickly, and seemed about to reply but then shut his lips and nodded.
They reached the floor of the forest and sank almost knee-deep in dead leaves. Here it was quite dark, and still there was utter silence. Spiderwebs frosted the trunks of the trees, and everywhere fungus clustered in ugly lumps. The air was thick with the smell of damp and decay.
Lief and Barda drew their swords and began slowly to move around the vine-walled circle.
The Belt grew warmer around Lief’s waist. Warmer, warmer … hot! “Soon …” he breathed.
And then he felt Barda clutch his arm.
Before them was an opening in the wall of vines. And standing in the middle of the opening was a hulking, terrifying figure.
It was a knight. A knight in golden battle armor. His breastplate glimmered in the dimness. His helmet was crowned with golden horns. He stood, motionless, on guard, a great sword in his hand. Lief drew a sharp breath when he saw what was set into the sword’s hilt.
A huge, yellow stone. The topaz.
“WHO GOES THERE?”
Lief and Barda froze as the hollow, echoing voice rang out. The knight had not turned his head, had not moved at all. Yet they knew that it was he who had challenged them. They knew, too, that it was useless to refuse to answer, or to try to hide now.
“We are travelers, from the city of Del,” called Barda. “Who is it who wants to know?”
“I am Gorl, guardian of this place and owner of its treasure,” said the hollow voice. “You are trespassers. Go, now, and you may live. Stay, and you will die.”
“It is two against one,” Lief whispered in Barda’s ear. “Surely we can overpower him, if we take him by surprise. We can pretend to leave, and then —”
Gorl’s head slowly turned towards them. Through the eye-slit of his helmet they could see only blackness. Lief’s spine prickled.
“So, you plot against me,” the voice boomed. “Very well. The choice is made.”
The armor-clad arm lifted and beckoned, and, to his horror, Lief found himself stumbling forward, as though he were being dragged by an invisible string. Desperately he struggled to hold back, but the force that was pulling him was too strong. He heard Barda cursing as he, too, lurched towards the beckoning arm.
Finally they stood before the knight. He towered above them. “Thieves! Fools!” he growled. “You dare to try to steal my treasure. Now you will join the others who have tried, and your bodies will feed my vines, as theirs have done.”
He stepped aside, and Lief stared with fascinated horror through the gap in the vines.
The wall of twisted stems was far thicker than he had realized, made up of hundreds of separate vines locked together. Many, many great trees were held within the vines’ net. The wall must have been gradually thickening for centuries, spreading outward from the center as more and more vines grew, and more and more trees were taken.
High above the ground, the vines reached from treetop to treetop, joining together to form a roof over the small, round space they protected. Only a tiny patch of blue sky could still be seen between the thickening leaves. Only a few beams of sunlight reached down to show dimly what lay inside the circle.
Ringing the walls, overgrown by gnarled roots, were the ancient, crumbling bodies and bones of countless dead — the knight’s victims, whose bodies had fed the vines. In the center of the circle there was a round patch of thick black mud from which rose three glimmering objects that looked like golden arrows.
“What are they?” Lief gasped.
“You know well what they are, thief,” thundered the knight. “They are the Lilies of Life, the treasures you have come to steal.”
“We have not come to steal them!” Barda exclaimed.
The knight turned his terrible head to look at him. “You lie!” he said. “You want them for yourselves, as I did, long ago. You wish to have their nectar so that you may live forever. But you shall not! I have protected my prize too well.”
He raised his armored fist. “When the Lilies bloom at last, and the nectar flows, only I shall drink of it. Then I shall be ruler of all the seven tribes, for no one will be able to stand against me, and I shall live forever.”
“He is mad,” breathed Barda. “He speaks as though the seven tribes were never united under Adin. As though the kingdom of Deltora has never existed!”
Lief felt sick. “I think — I think he came here before that happened,” he whispered back. “He came here to find these — these Lilies of which he speaks. And they enchanted him. He has been here ever since.”
Gorl lifted his sword. “Move into the circle,” he ordered. “I must kill you there, so that your blood will feed the vines.”
Again they found that their legs would not do their will, but only his. They staggered through the gap in the vines. Gorl followed them, raising his sword.