Polgara the Sorceress. David Eddings

a distraught vulture, but all priests adore being the center of attention, so it didn’t really hurt him.

      I sustained Beldaran with the sheer force of my Will for almost ten days, but despite my best efforts and every medication my teachers and I could think of, her condition continued to deteriorate. She was slipping away from me, and there was nothing I could do to prevent it. I was exhausted by now, and strange thoughts began to cloud my enfeebled mind. I have very little coherent memory of those horrible ten days, but I do remember Beltira’s voice coming to me about midnight when a screaming gale was swirling snow around the towers of the Citadel. ‘Pol! We’ve found Belgarath! He’s on his way to the Isle right now!’

       ‘Thank the Gods!’

       ‘How is she?’

       ‘Not good at all, uncle, and my strength’s starting to fail.’

       ‘Hold on for just a few more days, Pol. Your father’s coming.’

      But we didn’t have a few more days. I sat wearily at my sister’s bedside through the interminable hours of that long, savage night, and despite the fact that I was channeling almost every bit of my Will into her wasted body, I could feel her sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness.

      And then mother appeared at my side. It was not just her voice this time. She was actually there, and she was weeping openly. ‘Let her go, Pol,’ she told me.

      ‘No! I will not let her die!’

      ‘Her task is complete, Polgara. You must let her go. If you don’t, we’ll lose both of you.’

      ‘I can’t go on without her, mother. If she goes, I’ll go with her.’

      ‘No, you won’t. It’s not permitted. Release your Will.’

      ‘I can’t mother. I can’t. She’s the center of my life.’

      ‘Do it, my daughter. The Master commands it – and so does UL.’.

      I’d never heard of UL before. Oddly, no one in my family had ever mentioned him to me. Stubbornly, however, I continued to focus my Will on my dying sister.

      And then the wall beside Beldaran’s bed started to shimmer, and I could see an indistinct figure within the very stones. It was very much like looking into the shimmery depths of a forest pool to see what lay beneath the surface. The figure I saw there was robed in white, and the sense of that presence was overwhelming. I’ve been in the presence of Gods many times in my life, but I’ve never encountered a presence like that of UL.

      Then the shimmering was gone, and UL himself stood across my sister’s bed from me. His hair and beard were like snow, but there were no other marks of age on that eternal face. He lifted one hand and held it out over Beldaran’s form, and as he did so, I felt my Will being returned to me. ‘No!’ I cried. ‘Please! No!’

      But he ignored my tearful protest. ‘Come with me, beloved Beldaran,’ he said gently. ‘It is time to go now.’

      And a light infused my sister’s body. The light seemed to rise as if it were being sighed out of the wasted husk which was all that was left of her. The light had Beldaran’s form and face, and it reached out to take the hand of UL.

      And then the father of the Gods looked directly into my face. ‘Be well, beloved Polgara,’ he said to me, and then the two glowing forms shimmered back into the wall.

      Mother sighed. ‘And now our Beldaran is with UL.’

      And I threw myself across my dead sister’s body, weeping uncontrollably.

       Chapter 10

      Mother was no longer with me. I felt a terrible vacancy as I clung to my dead sister, weeping and screaming out my grief. The center of my world was gone, and all of the rest of it collapsed inward.

      I have very little memory of what happened during the rest of that dreadful night. I think that people came into my sister’s room, but I didn’t even recognize their faces. There was weeping, I’m fairly sure of that, but I really can’t be certain.

      And then Arell was there, solid, dependable, a rock I could cling to. She held me in her arms, rocking me back and forth until someone – Argak, I think – handed her a cup. ‘Drink this, Pol,’ she instructed, holding the cup to my lips.

      It was bitter, and I momentarily thought that it might be poison. What a perfect solution. All the pain would go away now. I drank eagerly, and my weeping gradually subsided as I sank down into blank oblivion in Arell’s arms.

      I was in my own bed when I awoke, and I can’t really say how much time had passed. Arell sat at my bedside, and I vaguely noticed that the windows had been barred while I slept. ‘Your father’s here, Pol,’ Arell told me when my eyes opened.

      ‘How nice of him to take the trouble,’ I replied bitterly. Arell had not poisoned me, and I felt somehow betrayed by that fact.

      ‘That’s about enough of that, Polgara.’ Arell’s tone was crisp. ‘People die. It happens. This isn’t the time for accusations or recriminations. The death of a loved one can either tear a family apart or it can bind the survivors closer together. Which do you want it to be, Pol?’ Then she stood up, smoothing the front of her grey dress. ‘Don’t go looking for anything sharp, dear. I’ve had your room purged of everything with an edge, and stay away from the windows. Now get dressed, wash your face in cold water, and comb your hair. You’re a mess.’ Then she left, and I got out of bed to lock the door behind her.

      It was evening again, though I couldn’t tell you what day it was, and father came knocking at my door. ‘It’s me, Pol. Open up.’

      ‘Go away,’ I told him.

      ‘Open the door, Pol. I need to talk to you.’

      ‘Get away from me, father.’ Even as I said it, I knew that it was more than a little silly. No lock in this world will keep my father out if he really wants in. I gave up and opened the door.

      He was all business, though his face was bleak. He bluntly reminded me that our overriding responsibility now was the Rivan line. Riva himself was totally incapacitated by his grief, and somebody had to assume his duties – both as king and as the guardian of the Orb. Daran was only twenty, but he was Riva’s heir and therefore the only possible choice. ‘The Angaraks have eyes everywhere, Pol,’ father reminded me, ‘and if there’s any sign of weakness here, you can expect a visit from Ctuchik – or maybe even from Torak himself.’

      That brought me up short. I pushed my grief and desolation back. ‘What do we do?’

      ‘You’re going to pull yourself together and take charge here. I’m putting Daran into your hands. I’ve talked with Brand, and he fully understands the situation. He’ll help you as much as he can, but the ultimate responsibility’s still yours. Don’t fail me, Pol. I’ll take you to Brand’s quarters. He’s talking with Daran there right now. They’re Alorns, Pol, so keep a tight rein on them.’

      ‘You’ll be here, won’t you?’

      ‘No. I have to leave.’

      ‘You’re not even going to stay for the funeral?’ That shocked me for some reason. Father’s always been a bit informal, but –

      ‘I’ve got the funeral in my heart, Pol, and no amount of ceremony or preaching by some tiresome priest is going to make it go away.’

      It was only an off-hand remark, but it reminded me that I had a score to settle with a certain priest of Belar. If Elthek, the Rivan Deacon, hadn’t pretended to be so hysterically afraid of witchcraft, my sister might have received proper medical attention soon enough to save her life. A desire for revenge isn’t really very admirable, but it does