"Have you any idea at all about where to begin the search?" the Gorim asked.
Belgarath shrugged. "A couple of clues is all. We're fairly sure that Zandramas left the Isle of the Winds aboard a Nyissan ship, so that's where we're going to start. The Codex says that I'm supposed to find the path to the Sardion in the mysteries, and I'm fairly certain that when we find the Sardion, Zandramas and the baby won't be far away. Maybe I can get some hints in those prophecies—if I can ever find any uncorrupted copies."
"It also appears that the Seers of Kell are directly involving themselves," Polgara added.
"The seers?" The Gorim's voice was startled. "They've never done that before."
"I know," she replied. "One of them—a girl named Cyradis—appeared at Rheon and gave us some additional information, and certain instructions."
"That is very unlike them."
"I think that things are moving toward the ultimate climax, Holy One," Belgarath said. "We were all concentrating so much on the meeting between Garion and Torak that we lost sight of the fact that the real meetings are the ones between the Child of Light and the Child of Dark. Cyradis told us that this is going to be the last meeting, and that this time, everything's going to be decided once and for all. I rather suspect that's the reason that the seers are finally coming out into the open."
The Gorim frowned. "I would not have ever thought to see them concern themselves with the affairs of other men," he said gravely.
"Just who are these seers, Holy Gorim?" Ce'Nedra asked in a subdued voice.
"They are our cousins, child," he replied simply.
Her look betrayed her bafflement.
"After the Gods made the races of man, there came the time of the choosing," he explained. "There were seven races of man—even as there are seven Gods. Aldur chose to go his way alone, however, and that meant that one of the races of man remained unchosen and Godless."
"Yes," she nodded, "I've heard that part of the story."
"We were all of the same people," the Gorim continued. "Us, the Morindim, the Karands in the north of Mallorea, the Melcenes far to the east and the Dals. We were closest to the Dals, but when we went forth in search of the God UL, they had already turned their eyes to the skies in their attempt to read the stars. We urged them to come with us, but they would not."
"And you've lost all contact with them, then?'' she asked.
"On occasion, some few of their seers have come to us, usually on some quest of which they would not speak. The seers are very wise, for the Vision which comes to them gives them knowledge of the past, the present, and the future— and more importantly, the meaning of it."
"Are they all women, then?"
"No. There are men as well. When the sight comes to them, they always bind their eyes to exclude all common light so that this other light can be seen more clearly. Inevitably, when a seer appears, there also appears a mute to be guide and protector. They are always paired—forever."
"Why are the Grolims so afraid of them?" Silk asked suddenly. "I've been in Mallorea a few times and I've seen Mallorean Grolims go all to pieces at just the mention of Kell."
"I suspect that the Dals have taken steps to keep the Grolims away from Kell. It's the very center of their learning, and Grolims are intolerant of non-Angarak things."
"What is the purpose of these seers, Holy One?" Garion asked.
"It's not only the seers, Belgarion," the Gorim replied. "The Dals are involved in all branches of arcane knowledge—necromancy, wizardry, magic, witchcraft—all of these and more. No one—except the Dals themselves— seems to know exactly what their purpose might be. What-_ever it is, though, they are entirely committed to it—both "the ones in Mallorea and those here in the west."
"In the west?" Silk blinked. "I didn't know that there were any Dals here."
The Gorim nodded. "They were divided by the Sea of the East when Torak used the Orb to crack the world. The western Dals were enslaved by the Murgos during the third millennium. But wherever they live—east or west—they have labored for eons at some task. Whatever that task may be, they are convinced that the fate of all creation depends on it."
"Does it?" Garion asked.
"We don't know, Belgarion. We don't know what the task is, so we can't even guess at its significance. We do know that they follow neither of the Prophecies which dominate the universe. They believe that their task was laid upon them by some higher destiny."
"And that's the thing that concerns me," Belgarath said. "Cyradis is manipulating us with these cryptic little announcements of hers; and for all I know, she's manipulating Zandramas as well. I don't like being led around by the nose—particularly by someone whose motives I don't understand. She complicates this whole business, and I don't like complications. I like nice, simple situations and nice, easy solutions."
"Good and Evil?" Durnik suggested.
"That's a difficult one, Durnik. I prefer 'them and us.' That clears away all the excess baggage and allows you to get right down to cases."
Garion slept restlessly that night and he rose early with his head feeling as if it were stuffed with sand. He sat for a time on one of the stone benches in the central room of the Gorim's house; then, caught in a kind of moody restlessness, he went outside to look across the quiet lake surrounding the island. The faint light from the globes hanging on their chains from the ceiling of the cavern cast a dim glow on the surface of the lake, and that glow filled the cave with a pale luminosity that seemed more like a light seen in a dream than any kind of illumination to be found in the real world. As he stood lost in thought at the water's edge, a movement on the far shore caught his eye.
They came singly and in groups of two and three, pale young women with the large, dark eyes and colorless hair of the Ulgos. They all wore modest white gowns, and they gathered shyly on the shore on the far side of the marble causeway, waiting in the dim light. Garion looked across the lake at them, then raised his voice to call, "Was there something you wanted?"
They whispered together for a moment, then pushed one of their number forward to speak for them. "We—we wanted to see the Princess Ce'Nedra," she blurted bashfully, her face dyed with a rosy blush. "If she's not too busy, that is." Her speech was halting, as if she were talking in a language not wholly familiar to her.