"You know how Barak is. Missing a fight always makes him discontent. Tell him some stories. He likes a good story almost as much as he likes a good fight."

It was good to be back among his old friends again. There had been a sort of emptiness in Garion since he had left them behind at Rheon. The absence of their burly self-confidence had been part of it, of course, but even more than that, perhaps, had been the camaraderie, that sense of good-natured friendship that lay under all the apparent bickering. As they started aft to where Barak stood with one beefy hand on the tiller, Garion saw Zakath and Cyradis standing on the lee side of a longboat. He motioned to Hettar to stop and laid one finger to his lips.

"Eavesdropping isn't very nice, Garion," the tall Algar whispered.

“It's not exactly eavesdropping,” Garion whispered back. “I just need to be sure that I won't have to take steps."

"Steps?"

"I'll explain later."

"And what will you do now, Holy Seeress?" Zakath was asking the slim girl, his heart in his voice.

"The world lies open before me, Kal Zakath," she replied a little sadly. "The burden of my task hath been lifted, and thou needst no longer address me as 'Seeress,' for, indeed, that burden hath also been lifted. Mine eyes are now fixed on the plain, ordinary light of day, and I am now no more than a plain, ordinary woman."

"Hardly plain, Cyradis, and far from ordinary."

"Thou art kind to say so, Kal Zakath."

"Let's drop that 'Kal,' shall we, Cyradis? It's an affectation. It means King and God. Now that I’ve seen real Gods, I know just how presumptuous it was of me to encourage its use. But let's return to the point. Your eyes have been bound for years, haven't they?"

"Yes."

"Then you haven't had occasion to look into a mirror lately, have you?"

"Neither occasion nor inclination."

Zakath was a very shrewd man and he fully realized when the time had come for extravagance. "Then let mine eyes be thy mirror, Cyradis," he said. "Look into them and see how fair thou art."

Cyradis blushed. "Thy flattery doth quite catch my breath away, Zakath-"

"It's not exactly flattery, Cyradis," he said clinically, lapsing into his usual speech. "You're by far the most beautiful I’ve ever met, and the thought of having you go back to anywhere else for that matter leaves a vast emptiness in my heart. You’ve lost your guide and your friend. Let me become both for you. Return with me to Mal Zeth. We’ve got much to discuss, and it may take us the rest of our lives."