Then, perhaps because Sadi had not stoppered the bottle tightly enough or because she had long since devised this simple means of opening her front door, the little snake nudged the cork out of the bottle with her blunt nose. Both creatures continued to purr, although the cat was now obviously afire with curiosity. For a time Zith did not reveal herself, but lurked shyly in her bottle, still purring. Then, cautiously, she poked out her head, her forked tongue flickering as she tested the air.
The cat jumped straight up to a height of about three feet, giving vent to a startled yowl. Zith retreated immediately back into the safety of her house, though she continued to purr.
Warily, but still burning with curiosity, the cat approached the bottle again, moving one foot at a time.
"Sadi," Zakath said, his voice filled with concern.
"There's no immediate danger, your Majesty," the eunuch assured him. "Zith never bites while she's purring."
Again the little green snake slid her head out of the bottle. This time the cat recoiled only slightly. Then, curiosity overcoming her natural aversion to reptiles, she continued her slow advance, her nose reaching out toward this remarkable creature. Zith, still purring, also extended her blunt nose. Their noses touched, and both flinched back slightly. Then they cautiously sniffed at each other, the cat with her nose, the snake with her tongue. Both were purring loudly now.
"Astonishing," Sadi murmured. "I think they actually like each other."
"Sadi, please," Zakath said plaintively. "I don't know how you feel about your snake, but I'm rather fond of my cat, and she is about to become a mother."
"I'll speak with them, your Majesty," Sadi assured him. "I'm not sure that they'll listen, but I'll definitely speak with them."
Belgarath had once again retired to the library, and Garion found him later that day poring over a large map of northern Mallorea. "Ah," he said, looking up as Garion entered, "there you are. I was just about to send for you. Come over here and look at this." Garion went to the table.
"The appearance of this Mengha fellow might just work to our advantage, you know."
"I don't quite follow that, Grandfather."
"Zandramas is here at Ashaba, right?" Belgarath stabbed his finger at a spot in the representation of the Karandese mountains.
"Yes," Garion said.
"And Mengha's moving west and south out of Calida, over here." The old man poked at the map again.
"That's what Brador says."
"He's got her blocked off from most of the continent, Garion. She's been very careful here in Cthol Murgos to avoid populated areas. There's no reason to believe that she's going to change once she gets to Mallorea. Urvon's going to be to the south of her at Mal Yaska, and the wastes to the north are virtually impassable -even though it's nearly summer."
"Summer?"
"In the northern half of the world it is."
"Oh. I keep forgetting." Garion peered at the map.
"Grandfather, we don't have any idea of where 'the place which is no more' might be. When Zandramas leaves Ashaba, she could go in any direction."
Belgarath squinted at the map. "I don't think so, Garion. In the light of all that's happened in Mallorea -coupled with the fact that by now she knows that we're on her trail- I think she almost has to be trying to get back to her power base in Darshiva. Everybody in the world is after her, and she needs help."
"We certainly aren't threatening her all that much," Garion said moodily. "We can't even get out of Cthol Murgos."
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. You've got to persuade Zakath that it's vital for us to leave here and get to Mallorea as quickly as possible."
"Persuade?"
"Just do whatever you have to, Garion. There's a great deal at stake."
"Why me?" Garion said it without thinking.
Belgarath gave him a long, steady look.
"Sorry," Garion muttered. "Forget that I said it."
"All right. I'll do that."
Late that evening, Zakath's cat gave birth to seven healthy kittens while Zith hovered in anxious attendance, warning off all other observers with ominous hisses. Peculiarly, the only person the protective little reptile would allow near the newborn kittens was Velvet.
Garion had little success during the next couple of days in his efforts to steer his conversations with the convalescing Zakath around to the subject of the necessity for returning to Mallorea. The Emperor usually pleaded a lingering weakness as a result of his poisoning, though Garion privately suspected subterfuge on that score, since the man appeared to have more than enough energy for his usual activities and only protested exhaustion when Garion wanted to talk about a voyage.
On the evening of the fourth day, however, he decided to try negotiation one last time before turning to more direct alternatives. He found Zakath seated in the chair near his bed with a book in his hands. The dark circles beneath his eyes had vanished, the trembling had disappeared entirely, and he seemed totally alert. " Ah, Belgarion, " he said almost cheerfully, "so good of you to stop by."
"I thought I'd come in and put you to sleep again," Garion replied with slightly exaggerated sarcasm.
"Have I been that obvious?" Zakath asked.
"Yes, as a matter of fact you have. Every time I mention the words 'ship' and 'Mallorea' in the same sentence, your eyes snap shut. Zakath, we've got to talk about this, and time is starting to run out."
Zakath passed one hand across his eyes with some show of weariness.
"Let me put it this way," Garion pressed on. "Belgarath's starting to get impatient. I'm trying to keep our discussions civil, but if he steps in, I can almost guarantee that they're going to turn unpleasant -very quickly."
Zakath lowered his hand, and his eyes narrowed. "That sounds vaguely like a threat, Belgarion."
"No," Garion disagreed. "As a matter of fact, it's in the nature of friendly advice. If you want to stay here in Cthol Murgos, that's up to you, but we have to get to Mallorea -and soon."
"And if I choose not to permit you to go?"
"Permit?" Garion laughed. "Zakath, did you grow up in the same world with the rest of us? Have you got even the remotest idea of what you're talking about?"
"I think that concludes this interview, Belgarion," the Emperor said coldly. He rose stiffly to his feet and turned to his bed. As usual, his cat had deposited her mewling little brood in the center of his coverlet and then gone off to nap alone in her wool-lined box in the corner. The irritated Emperor looked with some exasperation at the furry little puddle on his bed. "You have my permission to withdraw, Belgarion," he said over his shoulder. Then he reached down with both hands to scoop up the cluster of kittens.