Sorceress of Darshiva

"Of course he is. It's an almost classic case. He had all the symptoms—the ecstasy, the radical change of personality, all of it."

"There's something wrong here, though," Belgarath said, frowning. "I've spent eons reading prophecies, and what he said didn't have the same tone as any that I’ve ever come across—either ours or the others." He looked at Garion. "Can you get in touch with your friend?" he asked. "I need to talk with him."

"I can try," Garion replied. "He doesn't always come when I call, though."

"See if you can reach him. Tell him that it's important."

"I'll see what I can do, Grandfather." Garion sat down and closed his eyes. "Are you in there?" he asked.

"Please don't shout, Garion, " the voice responded in a pained tone. "It hurts my ears. "

"'Sorry,'' Garion apologized. "I didn't realize I was talking so loud. Grandfather wants to talk with you.''

"All right. Open your eyes, Garion. I can't see when they're closed. "

As had happened occasionally in the past, Garion felt himself shunted off into some quiet corner of his mind, and dry voice took over. "All right, Belgarath," it said Garion's lips. "What is it this time? "

"I've got a couple of questions, " the old man replied.

"There 's nothing new about that. You've always got questions. "

"'Did you hear what the Grolim said?"

"Naturally."

"Was it you? I mean, were you the voice that came to him? "

"No, as a matter of fact, I wasn't. "

"Then it was the other spirit?"

"No. It wasn't him either. "

"Then who was it?''

"Sometimes I can't believe that Aldur chose you as his first disciple. Are your brains packed in wool?"

"You don't have to be insulting. " Belgarath sounded a bit injured, but Beldin laughed an ugly, cackling kind of laugh.

"All right," the voice sighed, "I'll go through it carefully. Try not to miss too much. My counterpart and I came into existence when Destiny was divided. Have you got that part."

"I knew that already. "

"And you even managed to remember it? Amazing. "

"Thanks, " Belgarath said in a flat tone.

"I'm working with Garion's vocabulary. He's a peasant, he can be a little blunt sometimes. Now, doesn't it seem that when Destiny is reunited, there should be a new voice? My counterpart and I will have served our purpose, there won't be any further need for us. Millions of years of enmity between us have warped our perceptions a bit."

Belgarath looked startled at that.

'"Think, old man," the voice told him. "I'm not suited deal with a united universe. I've got too many old grudges. The new voice can start out fresh without any preconceptions.

It's better that way, believe me.''

"I think I'm going to miss you. "

"Don't get sentimental on me, Belgarath. I don't think I bear that. "

'Wait a minute. This new voice will come into existence after the meeting, right?"

"At the instant of the meeting, actually. "

"Then how did it speak to the old Grolim, if it's not in existence yet?"

"Time doesn't really mean that much to us, Belgarath. We can move backward and forward in it without any particular difficulty.''

"You mean the voice was speaking to him from the future ?''

"Obviously. " Garion felt a faint, ironic smile cross his lips. "How do you know I'm not speaking to you from the past?"

Belgarath blinked.

"Now we've got you,'' Beldin said triumphantly. ' 'We 're going to win, aren't we?"

"We can hope so, but there's no guarantee. "

"The voice that spoke to the Grolim represents a kindlier God, doesn't it?"

"Yes. "

"If the Child of Dark wins, the New God isn't going to be very kindly, is he?"

"No. "

"Then the simple fact that the voice came to him from out of the future—after the choice—indicates that the Child of Light is going to win, doesn't it?"

The voice sighed. "Why do you always have to complicate things, Beldin? The voice that spoke to the Grolim is the possibility of the new spirit. It's simply reaching back in time to make certain preparations so that things will be ready in the eventuality that it comes out on top. The Choice still hasn't been made yet, you know.''

"Even the possibility of existence has that kind of power?"

"Possibility has enormous power, Beldin—sometimes even more than actuality.''

"And the possibility of the other spirit could be making its own preparations as welt, couldn't it?"

"I wouldn't be at all surprised. You have an enormous grasp of the obvious.''

'Then we 're right back where we started from. We 're still going to have two spirits wrestling across time and the universe for dominance.''

''No. The Choice will eliminate one of the possibilities once and for all."

"I don't understand,'' Beldin confessed.

"I didn't think you would.''

"What preparations was this new voice making?" Polgara asked suddenly.

"The Grolim who came to you here will be the prophet and the first Disciple of the New God—assuming that the Child of Light is chosen, of course. "

"A Grolim?"

"The decision wasn't mine to make. The new God will be a God of Angarak, though, so it does make sense, I suppose."

"That might take a bit of getting adjusted to. "

"You have as many prejudices as I do, Polgara," the voice laughed, "but I think in the long run, you're more adaptable—and certainly more so than these two stubborn old men are. You’ll come to accept it in time. Now, if there aren't any more questions, I still have some things to attend to—in another part of time.''

And then the voice was gone.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The sun was just going down, staining the purple cloudbank to the west with a jaundiced yellow as it broke through an opening in the approaching storm. Garion crested a long hill and looked down into the next valley. There was a complex of buildings there, a complex so familiar that he dropped onto his haunches and stared at it in amazement for a moment. Then he rose on all fours again and moved cautiously through the tall grass toward the farmstead. He saw no smoke, and the large gate was open, but he didn't see any point in taking chances. Farmers have an automatic aversion to wolves, and Garion did not particularly want to dodge arrows shot at him from concealment.He stopped at the edge of the cleared area surrounding the farm, dropped to his belly in the grass, and looked at the farm for quite some time. It seemed to be deserted. He ran forward and slunk cautiously through the open gate. The compound was quite nearly as large as Faldor's farm, half a world away. He slipped through an open shed door and stood inside with one forepaw slightly raised as his nose and ears intently sought for any evidence that he was not alone. The farmstead was silent, save for the complaining moan of an udder-heavy cow lowing to be milked in the barn across the central yard. The smells of people were here, of course, but they were all many days old.