Durnik and Toth picked up the two canvas bags containing the armor, and Garion and Zakath drew their swords and led the way up from the gravel strand. The mountain they approached seemed composed of speckled granite, fractured into unnatural blocks. Garion had seen enough granite in the mountains here and there around the world to know that the stone usually crumbled and weathered into rounded shapes. "Strange," Durnik murmured, kicking with one still-wet boot at the perfectly squared-off edge of one of the blocks. He lowered the canvas bag and drew his knife. He dug for a moment at the rock with his knife point. "It's not granite," he said quietly. "It looks like granite, but it's much too hard. It's something else."

"We can identify it later," Beldin told him. "Let's find some cover just in case Belgarath’s suspicion turns out to be accurate. As soon as we get settled, I’ll drift around the peak a few times.”

"You won't be able to see anything," Silk predicted.

"I'll be able to hear, though."

"Over there," Durnik said, pointing with his sledge. "It looks as if one of these blocks got dislodged and rolled down to the beach. There's a fairly large niche there."

"Good enough for now," Belgarath said. "Beldin, when you make the change, do it very slowly. I'm sure Zandramas landed at almost the exact same time we did, and she'll hear you."

"I know how it's done, Belgarath."

The niche in the side of the strange, stair-stepped peak was more than large enough to conceal them, and they moved down into it cautiously.

"Neat," Silk said. "Why don't you all wait here and catch your breath? Beldin can turn into a seagull and go have a look around the island. I'll go on ahead and pick out a trail for us."

"Be careful," Belgarath told him.

"Someday you're going to forget to say that, Belgarath, and it'll probably wither every tree on earth.” The little man climbed back up out of the niche and disappeared into the fog.

"You do say that to him a lot, you know," Beldin said to Belgarath.

"Silk's an enthusiast. He needs frequent reminding. Did you plan to leave sometime during the next hour?"

Beldin spat out a very unflattering epithet, shimmered very slowly, and sailed away.

"Your temper hasn't improved much, Old Wolf," Poledra said to him.

"Did you think it might have?"

"Not really," she replied, "but there's always room for hope."

Despite Belgarath's premonition, the fog hung on. After about a half hour, Beldin returned. "Somebody's landed on the west beach," he reported. "I couldn't see them, but I could certainly hear them. Angaraks seem to have some trouble keeping their voices down sorry, Zakath, but it's the truth."

"I'll issue an imperial command that the next three or four generations converse in whispers, if you'd like."