Naradas shrank back slightly, his face apprehensive. "No thanks are necessary, Master Garath," he said. "I did no more than my duty to my king and his realm."

"Ah, yes," Belgarath said, "duty. We all have many duties, don't we? Commend me to the Child of Dark when next thou prayest to her. Advise her that, as is foreordained, we shall meet anon."

Then he turned and, with Garion and Zakath close behind him, he strode out among the dancers and left the throne room. So long as he had been in the presence of strangers, the old man's expression had been neutral. Once they reached the deserted corridor, however, he began to swear savagely. "I was right on the verge of getting my hands on that chart,” he fumed. "Naradas has done it to me again."

"Should I go back and get the others?" Garion asked.

"No. They'd all want to go along, and that'd only start an argument. We'll leave a note."

"Again?"

"These repetitions are cropping up more and more regularly, aren't they?"

"Let's hope Aunt Pol doesn't react the same way this time."

"What are you two talking about?" Zakath asked.

"Silk, Grandfather, and I slipped out of Riva when we went to meet Torak," Garion explained. "We left a note, but Aunt Pol didn't take it too well. As I understand it, there was a lot of swearing and a number of explosions.”

"Lady Polgara? She's the very soul of gentility."

"Don't be deceived, Zakath," Belgarath told him. "Pol's got a vile temper when things don't go the way she wants them to go."

"It must be a family trait," Zakath said blandly.

"Are you trying to be funny? You two go down to the stables. Tell the grooms to saddle, our horses and find out where this village is. I want to talk with Cyradis a moment before we leave. I'm going to get some straight answers out of that girl. I'll join you in the courtyard in a few minutes."

It was perhaps ten minutes later when they mounted. Garion and Zakath took their lances from the rack at the stable wall, and then the three of them rode out of the palace compound. "Any luck with Cyradis?" Garion asked Belgarath.

"Some. She told me that the dragon out there is not Zandramas."

"It's the real one then?"

"Probably. She got cryptic on me then, though. She said that there's some other spirit influencing the dragon. That means you'll both have to be very careful. The dragon's very stupid normally, but if some spirit's guiding her, she might be a bit more perceptive."

A shadow slunk from a dark side street. It was the she-wolf. "How is it with you, little sister?" Garion greeted her formally. At the last instant, he avoided calling her "Grandmother. “

"One is content," she replied. "You go to hunt. One will accompany you."

"One must advise you that the creature we seek is not fit for eating."