"I'd say that our star-speckled friend tried to force several of her Grolims to push through whatever it is that has the door sealed against her. I 'm not sure if it was the force holding the door or if Zandramas lost her temper when the Grolims failed. About five of them are noticeably dead at the moment, and Zandramas is stalking about outside inventing swear words. All of her Grolims have purple linings on the insides of their hoods, by the way.”

"Sorcerers, then," Polgara said bleakly.

"Grolim sorcery is not all that profound." Beldin shrugged.

"Could you see if she's got those lights under her skin?" Garion asked.

"Oh, my, yes. Her face looks like a meadow full of fireflies on a summer evening. I saw something else, too. That albatross is out there. We nodded, but we didn't have time to stop and speak."

"What was he doing?" Silk asked suspiciously.

"Just hovering. You know how albatrosses are. I don't think they move their wings more than once a week. The fog is starting to thin. Why don't we just ease around and stand on one of these terraces just above that amphitheater and let this murk dissipate. Seeing a group of dark figures emerging out of the fog should give her quite a turn, wouldn't you think?"

"Did you see my baby?" Ce'Nedra asked, her heart in her voice.

"He's hardly a baby anymore, little girl. He's a sturdy little lad with curls as blond as Eriond's used to be. I gathered from his expression that he's not very fond of the company he's in, and judging from the look of him, he's going to grow up to be as bad-tempered as the rest of his family. Garion could probably go down there and hand him the sword, and then we could all sit back and watch him deal with the problem."

"I'd rather not have him start killing people until after he loses his baby teeth," Garion said firmly. "Is there anybody else there?"

"Judging from his wife's description, the Archduke Otrath is among the group. He's wearing a cheap crown and sort of secondhand royal robes. There's not too much in the way of intelligence in his eyes."

"That one is mine," Zakath grated. "I’ve never had the opportunity to deal with high treason on a personal level before."

"His wife will be eternally in your debt." Beldin grinned.

"She might even decide to journey to Mal Zeth to offer her thanks among other things in person. She's a lush wench, Zakath. I'd advise that you get plenty of rest."

"Methinks I care not for the turn this conversation hath taken," Cyradis said primly. "The day wears on. Let us proceed."

"Anythin' yer heart desires, me little darlin'." Beldin grinned.

Cyradis smiled in spite of herself.