"It's an island off the south coast of Dalasia, " the Mallorean replied. "The inhabitants there are very strange. Their legends say that they're descendants of some people from the west who were aboard a ship that was blown off course and wrecked on the island about two thousand years ago. The island's of little value, and the people there are fearsome fighters. The general opinion in Mal Zeth has always been that the place wouldn't be worth the trouble it would take to subdue it, and Urvon didn't even bother to send Grolims there.''

"If they're so savage, won't it be sort of dangerous for us to go there?"

"No. Actually they're civil and even hospitable—as long as you don't try to land an army there. That's when things start to take a turn for the worse.''

"Have we really got the time to go to this place?" Silk asked the Seeress of Kell.

"Ample time, Prince Kheldar," she replied. "The stars have told us for eons that the Place Which Is No More awaits the coming of thee and thy companions, and that thou and thy companions will come there upon the day appointed for the meeting."

"And so will Zandramas, I suppose?"

She smiled a gentle little smile. "How can there be a meeting if the Child of Dark be not also present?" she asked him.

"I think I detected a faint glimmer of humor there, Cyradis,'' he bantered. "Isn't that a bit out of character for one of the seers?"

"How little you know us, Prince Kheldar." She smiled again. "Oft times we have been convulsed with laughter at some message writ large in the stars and at the absurd lengths to which others go to ignore or avoid that which is preordained. Submit to the instruction of the heavens, Kheldar. Spare thyself the agony and turmoil of trying to evade thy fate.''

"You throw the word 'fate' around awfully lightly, Cyradis," he said disapprovingly.

"Hast thou not come here in response to a fate laid down for thee at the beginning of days? All thy concern with commerce and espionage have been but a diversion to occupy thee until the appointed day."

"That's a polite way to tell someone he's been behaving like a child."

"We are all children, Kheldar."

Beldin came soaring through the sun-dappled forest, avoiding tree trunks with deft shifts of his wings. He settled to earth and changed form.

"Trouble?" Belgarath asked him.

"Not as much as I'd expected." The dwarf shrugged. "And that worries me a bit."

"Isn't that a little inconsistent?"

"Consistency is the defense of a small mind. Zandramas couldn't go to Kell, right?"

"As far as we know."

"Then she has to follow us to the meeting place, right?"

"Unless she's found some other way to find out where it is."