afternoon were shabby, unshaven, and about half-drunk. They
stepped out of the bushes bordering the road brandishing rusty
butcher-knives. ‘I’ll be after takin’ th’ horse, Ferdish,’ one rogue said
to the other.
‘Fair enough, Selt,’ Ferdish replied, scratching vigorously at one
armpit and leering at me, ‘an’ I’ll be after takin’ th’ woman herself,
don’t y’ know.’
‘Y’ always do, Ferdish,’ Selt noted. ‘Y’ve got quite an eye fer th’
ladies, I’ve noted.’
There were any number of things I could have done, of course,
but I didn’t really care for their proprietary attitude, and I thought
a bit of education might be in order here. Besides, there was
something I wanted to try out – just to see if it’d actually work. ‘It’s all
settled, then, gentlemen?’ I asked them rather casually.
‘All settled, me darlin’,’ Ferdish smirked at me. ‘Now, would y’
be so good as t’ get down so that Selt here kin try out his new
mount whilst me an’ you have a bit of a frolic?’
‘You’re sure this is what you really want?’ I pressed.
‘It’s what we’re goin’ t’ have, Lady-o,’ Selt laughed coarsely.
‘Oh, good,’ I said. ‘My beast and I are hungry, and we’ve been
wondering who we were going to have for supper.’
The ragged pair stared at me uncomprehendingly.
‘I do want to thank you two for coming along just when my
stomach was starting to rumble.’ I looked at them critically. ‘A bit
scrawny, perhaps,’ I noted, ‘but travelers have to get used to short
rations, I guess.’
Then I released my Will slowly to give them every opportunity to
enjoy the transformation taking place before their very eyes. Baron,
who’d been idly cropping at a clump of grass by the side of the
road, raised his head, and his neck began to elongate even as scales,
claws, wings, and other dragonish appurtenances started to appear.
My own transformation was every bit as slow. My shoulders
expanded, my arms grew longer, fangs started to protrude from
between my lips, and my face took on an Eldrakish overcast. When
the alteration was completed, my pair of shabby outlaws stood
frozen in terror, gaping at a monstrous ogress with blazing eyes
and clawed hands sitting astride a huge, smoking dragon. ‘Feeding
time, Baron,’ I rasped in a harsh, guttural voice. ‘What do you think?
Should we kill them first, or should we eat them alive?’
Ferdish and Selt, still frozen stock-still in horror, clung to each
other, screaming.
Then Baron belched, and a great cloud of sooty fire came billowing
out of his mouth.
‘Now, why didn’t I think of that?’ I growled. ‘What a wonderful
idea, Baron. Go ahead and cook them a little before we eat them.
It’s evening, after all, and we’ll both sleep better with a hot meal in
our bellies.’
Ferdish and Selt must have suddenly remembered a pressing
engagement elsewhere, because they left without even saying
goodbye. As I remember, there was a lot of screaming, stumbling,
crashing in the brush, and the like, in their departure.
‘Shall we press on then, Baron?’ I suggested, and he and I
continued our ambling stroll through the damp, gloomy forest.
Oh, don’t be so gullible. Of course I didn’t actually convert Baron
and myself into those monsters. Ferdish and Selt weren’t worth that
kind of effort, and illusion is just as effective as reality most of the
time. Besides, to be perfectly honest about it, I hadn’t the faintest
notion in those days of what an ogress or a dragon really looked
like, so I just improvised.
We reached Muros the following day, and I purchased supplies.
Then, the next morning at daybreak Baron and I struck out for
the Sendarian mountains. If you absolutely must be alone in the
wilderness, I strongly recommend the mountains. A kind of peace
comes over me in high country that I feel in no other surroundings.
To be perfectly honest, I loitered, frequently making my night’s
encampment long before it was really necessary. I swam in icy
mountain lakes, startling the local trout, I’m sure, and I browsed
through thickets of berry-bushes when they presented themselves.
it was with some regret that I came down out of the mountains and
rode out onto that endless sea of grass that is the Algarian plain.
The weather held fair, and we arrived in the Vale a few days
later. Father and the twins greeted me warmly, but uncle Beldin, as
usual, was off in Mallorea keeping an eye on the enemy and trying
to come up with a way to lure Urvon out of Mal Yaska.
it felt odd to be back in the Vale after the years I’d spent on the
Isle of the Winds. I’d been at the center of things in the Citadel, and
there was always something going on that needed my immediate
attention. To be honest about it, I missed those affairs of state, and
the remoteness of the Vale made it impossible for me to even know
about them, much less take a hand. My father, who’s much more
observant than he sometimes appears to be, noticed the signs of my
discontent. ‘Are you busy, Pol?’ he asked me one autumn evening
after supper.
‘Not really,’ I replied, setting aside the medical text I’d been
reading.
‘You’re having problems, aren’t you?’ he asked me, his white hair
and beard ruddy in the firelight.
‘I can’t seem to get settled back down,’ I admitted.
He shrugged. ‘It happens. It usually takes me a year or so to get
my feet back on the ground after I’ve been out in the world for a
while. Study’s something you have to do every day. If you put it
aside, you have to learn how all over again. Just be patient, Pol. It
comes back after a while.’ He leaned back, looking reflectively into
the fire. ‘We’re not like other people, Pol, and there’s no point in
pretending that we are. We’re not here to get involved in running the
world. That’s what kings are for, and for all of me they’re welcome to
it. Our business is here, and what’s going on out there doesn’t really
mean anything to us – at least it shouldn’t.’
‘We live in the world too, father.’
‘No, Pol, we don’t at least not in the same world as the people
out there live in. Our world’s a world of first causes and that
inevitable string of EVENTS that’s been growing out of those causes from
the moment the Purpose of the Universe was divided. Our only
task is to identify – and influence – certain incidents that are so
Minute and unremarkable that ordinary people don’t even notice
them.’ He paused. ‘What are you studying right now?’
‘Medical texts.’
‘Why? People are going to die anyway, no matter how much you
try to prevent it. If one thing doesn’t carry them off, something else
will.’
‘We’re talking about friends and family here, father.’
He sighed. ‘Yes, I know. That doesn’t alter the facts, though.
They’re mortal; we aren’t at least not yet. Set your hobby aside,
Polgara, and get down to business. Here.’ He handed me a thick,
heavy scroll. ‘This is your copy of the Mrin Codex. You’d better get
started on it. There’ll probably be tests later on.’
‘Oh, father,’ I said, ‘be serious.’
‘I am. The tests that’ll grow out of this course of study are likely
to have far-reaching consequences.’
‘Such as?’
‘Oh, I don’t know – the end of the world, possibly – or the coming
of the one who’ll save it.’ He gave me an inscrutable look. ‘Be happy
in your work, Pol,’ he told me as he returned to his own copy of
the ravings of that idiot on the banks of the Mrin.
The next morning I put on my grey Rivan cloak, saddled Baron,
and rode out into the blustery autumn day. The Tree, standing deep
in eternity, had begun to deck himself out in his autumn finery, and
he was absolutely glorious. The birds, probable descendants of my
cheeky sparrow and lyric lark, swooped down to greet me as
I approached. I’m not sure why, but I’ve never encountered a
bird who didn’t call me by name when he first caught sight of
me.
Mother didn’t respond when I sent my thought out to her, but I
don’t think I’d really expected her to reply. Mother was still
mourning the death of my sister.
I didn’t press the issue, since it was the Tree I’d come to visit.
We didn’t speak, but then we never do. Our communion couldn’t
have been put into words. I immersed myself in his sense of
timelessness, absorbing his eternal presence, and in a somewhat gentler
manner he confirmed father’s blunt assessment of the previous
night. Father, Beldin, the twins, and I were not like other people,
and our purpose was not like theirs.
After a time, I simply reached out my hand, laid it on the rough