"I don't think we'll gain anything by wrangling with each other, Polgara," Zedar the Apostate was saying. "We each believe that what we did was right. Neither of us could ever persuade the other to change sides at this point. Why don't we just let it go at that?"
"Very well, Zedar," Aunt Pol replied coolly.
"What now?" Silk breathed.
"There should be others in there, too," Belgarath answered softly. "Let's make sure before we go bursting in."
The iron door in front of them did not fit tightly, and faint light seeped through the cracks around the frame. Garion could make out Belgarath's intent face in that dim light.
"How's your father?" Zedar asked in a neutral tone.
"About the same as always. He's very angry with you, you know."
"That was to be expected, I suppose."
"He's finished eating, Lady Polgara," Garion heard Ce'Nedra say. He looked sharply at Belgarath, but the old man put one finger to his lips.
"Spread one of those pallets out for him, dear," Aunt Pol instructed, "and cover him with some blankets. It's very late, and he's sleepy."
"I'll do that," Durnik offered.
"Good," Belgarath breathed. "They're all here."
"How did they get here?" Silk whispered.
"I haven't the faintest idea, and I'm not going to worry about it. The important thing is that they're here."
"I'm glad you were able to rescue him from Ctuchik," Zedar said. "I grew rather fond of him during the years we spent together."
"Where did you find him?" Aunt Pol asked. "We've never been able to pin down what country he's from."
"I forgot precisely," Zedar answered, and his voice was faintly troubled. "Perhaps it was Camaar or Tol Honeth or maybe some city on the other side of Mallorea. The details keep slipping away from me almost as if I weren't supposed to examine them too closely."
"Try to remember," she said. "It might be important."
Zedar sighed. "If it amuses you," he said. He paused as if thinking. "I'd grown restless for some reason," he began. "It was - oh, fifty or sixty years ago. My studies no longer interested me, and the bickering of the various Grolim factions began to irritate me. I took to wandering about - not really paying much attention to where I was. I must have crossed and crisscrossed the Kingdoms of the West and the Angarak Kingdoms a half dozen times in those years.
"Anyway, I was passing through some city somewhere when the idea struck me all at once. We all know that the Orb will destroy anyone who touches it with the slightest trace of evil in his heart, but what would it do to someone who touched it in total innocence? I was stunned by the simplicity of the idea. The street I was on was full of people, and I needed quiet to consider this remarkable idea, so I turned a corner into some forgotten alley, and there the child was - almost as if he'd been waiting for me. He seemed to be about two years old at the time - old enough to walk and not much more. I held out my hand to him and said, 'I have a little errand for you, my boy.' He came to me and repeated the word, 'Errand.' It's the only word I've ever heard him say."
"What did the Orb do when he first touched it?" Aunt Pol asked him. "It flickered. In some peculiar way it seemed to recognize him, and something seemed to pass between them when he laid his hand on it." He sighed. "No, Polgara, I don't know who the child is - or even what he is. For all I know, he may even be an illusion. The idea to use him in the first place came to me so suddenly that I sometimes wonder if perhaps it was placed in my mind. It's entirely possible, I suppose, that I didn't find him, but that he found me. " He fell silent again.
There was a long pause on the other side of the iron door.
"Why, Zedar?" Aunt Pol asked him very quietly. "Why did you betray our Master?" Her voice was strangely compassionate.
"To save the Orb," he replied sadly. "At least, at first that was the idea. From the moment I first saw it, it owned me. After Torak took it from our Master, Belgarath and the others began making their plans to regain it by force, but I knew that if Aldur himself did not join his hand with theirs to strike directly at Torak, they would fail - and Aldur would not do that. I reasoned that if force must fail, then guile might succeed. I thought that by pretending allegiance to Torak, I might gain his confidence and steal it back from him."
"What happened, Zedar?" Her question was very direct. There was another long, painful pause.
"Oh, Polgara!" Zedar's voice came in a strangled sob. "You cannot know! I was so sure of myself - so certain that I could keep a part of my mind free from Torak's domination - but I was wrong - wrong! His mind and will overwhelm me. He took me in his hand and he crushed out all of my resistance. The touch of his hand, Polgara!" There was horror in Zedar's voice. "It reaches down into the very depths of your soul. I know Torak for what he is - loathsome, twisted, evil beyond your understanding of the word - but when he calls me, I must go; and what he bids me do, I must do - even though my soul shrieks within me against it. Even now, as he sleeps, his fist is around my heart." There was another hoarse sob.
"Didn't you know that it's impossible to resist a God?" Aunt Pol asked in that same compassionate voice. "Was it pride, Zedar? Were you so sure of your power that you thought you could trick him - that you could conceal your intention from him?"
Zedar sighed. "Perhaps," he admitted. "Aldur was a gentle Master. He never brought his mind down on me, so I was not prepared for what Torak did to me. Torak is not gentle. What he wants, he takes - and if he must rip out your soul in the taking, it does not matter to him in the slightest. You'll discover his power, Polgara. Soon he'll awaken and he'll destroy Belgarion. Not even the Rivan King is a match for that awful mind. And then Torak will take you as his bride - as he has always said he would. Don't resist him, Polgara. Save yourself that agony. In the end, you'll go to him anyway. You'll go willingly - even eagerly."
There was a sudden scraping sound in the room beyond the iron door, and a quick rush of feet.
"Durnik!" Aunt Pol cried sharply. "No!"
"What's happening?" Garion demanded of Belgarath.
"That's what it means!" Belgarath gasped. "Get that door open!"
"Get back, you fool!" Zedar was shouting.
There was a sudden crash, the sound of bodies locked in struggle smashing into furniture.