Two lions lay beside the road, both much larger than Chris. At their growl, he immediately stepped back. Behind him lay the hill he had just climbed. Ahead was the brightly lit house. Suddenly, he understood why Timorous and Mistrust had run so fast.
“Walk along the middle,” someone called from the doorway. “Stay away from the edges.”
Chris could not see who was speaking, only a lamp lifted beside the door. Its light reached across the grass and revealed two chains. The lions were chained. They could spring toward the edges of the road, but could not reach the middle.
“My name is Watchful,” the man called again. “Look at the chains first, then at your feet.”
Chris looked down and found a narrow stone path in the center. He placed his feet on it and moved slowly forward. A lion sprang up, jerking its chain tight. Chris stopped in fright. Watchful did not laugh at him. “You’re still in the middle,” he reminded him. “One more step.”
By the time Chris reached the door, his palms were wet with sweat. Watchful asked why he had come, and Chris told him about his journey and his wish to save his family. This house was called Palace Beautiful. It welcomed people traveling the road. Inside, Discretion, Prudence, Piety, and Charity prepared hot soup, a clean bed, and a fresh pair of socks for him.
Discretion first listened to his story. Prudence examined his sore feet and told him where he would need to walk more slowly. Piety prayed a short prayer with him. Charity pushed the soup toward him and asked him to take a few mouthfuls before he spoke.
Someone at the table asked about his home. “When I left, they wouldn’t listen,” Chris said quietly. “Perhaps they didn’t believe me because I used to do things wrong so often.”
Discretion shook her head. “You need to admit your mistakes. Grown-ups also need to listen carefully to children. Those are two separate things.”
Chris lifted his head at that. Until now, he had felt that his family’s refusal to leave was his fault too.
After supper, he wrote a second letter. This time he drew the marsh, the turning, and the narrow gate, marking clearly where help could be found. He also told his sister that he had admitted breaking the bowl, and that when he came home he would apologize to her again.
A traveler delivering goods near the City of Destruction agreed to carry the letter. The people at the palace also wrote a note to the Interpreter, asking him to find out what had happened to the first letter. They did not tell Chris that everything was arranged and he need not worry anymore. Instead, they explained, one by one, the things they could do.
That night, Chris lay in bed and finally slept deeply. He dreamed of a lamp shining in the window at home. When he woke, daylight was outside, and the sound of someone scrubbing pots came from downstairs. He sat up and realized he had not spent the night clutching everyone’s safety tightly to his chest.