Demon Lord of Karanda

search, although he wore only a few of the costly rings and ornaments which had made him appear so ostentatiously wealthy at that time.
    "Isn't he in Gar og Nadrak?" Garion asked. Garion had also discarded his serviceable travel clothing and reverted to his customary silver-trimmed blue.
    "It's hard to say exactly where Yarblek is at any given time, Garion. He moves around a great deal; but no matter where he goes, the reports from our people in Mal Zeth, Melcene, and Maga Renn are all forwarded to him. Whatever this Mengha is up to is almost certain to have disrupted trade. I'm sure that our agents have gathered everything they could find out about him and sent it along to Yarblek. Right now my scruffy-looking partner probably knows more about Mengha than Brador's secret police do."
    "I don't want to get sidetracked, Silk. Our business is with Zandramas, not Mengha."
    "Demons are everybody's business," Silk replied soberly, "but no matter what we decide to do, we have to get to Mallorea first -and that means persuading Zakath that this is serious. Was he listening at all when you told him about Mengha?"
    Garion shook his head. "I'm not sure if he even understood what we were telling him. He wasn't altogether rational."
    Silk grunted. "When he wakes up, we'll have to try again." A sly grin crossed the little man's face. "I've had a certain amount of luck negotiating with sick people," he said.
    "Isn't that sort of contemptible?"
    "Of course it is -but it gets results."
    Later that morning, Garion and his rat-faced friend stopped by the Emperor's room, ostensibly to inquire about his health. Polgara and Sadi were seated on either side of the bed, and Andel sat quietly in the corner. The vines that had enveloped the narrow cot had been pulled aside, but the air in the room was still heavy with the fragrance of the small, lavender flowers. The sick man was propped into a half-sitting position by pillows, but his eyes were closed as Silk and Garion entered. His cat lay contentedly purring at the foot of the bed.
    "How is he?" Garion asked quietly.
    "He's been awake a few times," Sadi replied. "There are still some traces of thalot in his extremities, but they seem to be dissipating." The eunuch was picking curiously at one of the small flowers. "I wonder if these would work if they were distilled down to an essence," he mused, "or perhaps an attar. It might be very interesting to wear a perfume that would ward off any poison." He frowned slightly. "And I wonder if they'd be effective against snake venom."
    "Have Zith bite someone," Silk suggested. "Then you can test it."
    "Would you like to volunteer, Prince Kheldar?"
    "Ah, no, Sadi," Silk declined. "Thanks all the same." He looked at the red case lying open on the floor in the comer. "Is she confined, by the way?" he asked nervously.
    "She's sleeping," Sadi replied. "She always takes a little nap after breakfast."
    Garion looked at the dozing Emperor. " Is he coherent at all -when he's awake, I mean?"
    "His mind seems to be clearing," Polgara told him.
    "Hysteria and delirium are some of the symptoms brought on by thalot," Sadi said. "Growing rationality is an almost certain sign of recovery."
    "Is that you, Belgarion?" Zakath asked almost in a whisper and without opening his eyes.
    "Yes," Garion replied. "How are you feeling?"
    "Weak. Light-headed -and every muscle in my body screams like an abscessed tooth. Aside from that, I'm fine." He opened his eyes with a wry smile. "What happened? I seem to have lost track of things."
    Garion glanced briefly at Polgara, and she nodded.
    "You were poisoned," he told the sick man.
    Zakath looked a bit surprised. "It must not have been a very good one then," he said.
    "Actually, it's one of the very best, your Imperial Majesty," Sadi disagreed mildly. "It's always been universally lethal."
    "I'm dying then?" Zakath said it with a peculiar kind of satisfaction, almost as if he welcomed the idea. " Ah, well," he sighed. "That should solve many problems."
    "I'm very sorry, your Majesty," Silk said with mock regret, "but I think you'll live. Belgarath tampers with the normal course of events from time to time. It's a bad habit he picked up in his youth, but a man needs some vices, I suppose."
    Zakath smiled weakly. "You're a droll little fellow, Prince Kheldar."
    "If you're really keen on dying, though," Silk added outrageously, "we could always wake Zith. One nip from her almost guarantees perpetual slumber."
    "Zith?"
    "Sadi's pet -a