Demon Lord of Karanda

absurdity!" he burst out suddenly in an agitated voice.
    "I know," Belgarath replied calmly, "but a willingness to believe the absurd is an indication of faith. It might just be that faith is the first step in the preparation Cyradis mentioned."
    "It's not that I don't want to believe, Belgarath," Zakath said, in a strangely humble tone. "It's just-"
    "Nobody said that it was going to be easy," the old man told him. " But you've done things before that weren't easy, haven't you?"
    Zakath dropped into his chair again, his eyes lost in thought. "Why me?" he said plaintively. "Why do I have to get involved in this?"
    Garion suddenly laughed.
    Zakath gave him a cold stare.
    "Sorry," Garion apologized, "but I've been saying 'why me?' since I was about fourteen. Nobody's ever given me a satisfactory answer, but you get used to the injustice of it after a while."
    "It's not that I'm trying to avoid any kind of responsibility, Belgarion. It's just that I can't see what possible help I could be. You people are going to track down Zandramas, retrieve your son, and destroy the Sardion. Isn't that about it?"
    "It's a little more complicated than that," Belgarath told him. "Destroying the Sardion is going to involve something rather cataclysmic."
    "I don't quite follow that. Can't you just wave your hand and make it cease to exist? You are a sorcerer, after all -or so they say."
    "That's forbidden," Garion said automatically. "You can't unmake things. That's what Ctuchik tried to do, and he destroyed himself."
    Zakath frowned and looked at Belgarath. "I thought you killed him."
    "Most people do." The old man shrugged. "It adds to my reputation, so I don't argue with them." He tugged at one earlobe. "No," he said, "I think we're going to have to see this all the way through to the end. I'm fairly sure that the only way the Sardion can be destroyed is as a result of the final confrontation between the Child of Light and the Child of Dark." He paused, then sat up suddenly, his face intent. "I think Cyradis slipped and gave us something she hadn't intended, though. She said that the Grolim priesthood all desperately wanted the Sardion, and she included Mengha in her list. Wouldn't that seem to indicate that Mengha's also a Grolim?" He looked at Andel. " Is your young mistress subject to these little lapses?"
    "Cyradis cannot misspeak herself, Holy Belgarath," the healer replied." A Seeress does not speak in her own voice, but in the voice of her vision."
    "Then she wanted us to know that Mengha is -or was- a Grolim, and that the reason he's raising demons is to help him in his search for the Sardion." He thought about it. "There's another rather bleak possibility, too," he added. "It might just be that his demons are using him to get the Sardion for themselves. Maybe that's why they're so docile where he's concerned. Demons by themselves are bad enough, but if the Sardion has the same power as the Orb, we definitely don't want it to fall into their hands." He turned to Zakath. "Well?" he said.
    "Well what?"
    "Are you with us or against us?"
    "Isn't that a little blunt?"
    "Yes, it is -but it saves time, and time's starting to be a factor."
    Zakath sank lower in his chair, his expression unreadable. "I find very little benefit for me in this proposed arrangement," he said.
    "You get to keep living," Garion reminded him. "Cyradis said that you'll die before spring if you don't take up the task she's going to lay in front of you."
    Zakath's faint smile was melancholy, and the dead indifference returned to his eyes. "My life hasn't really been so enjoyable that I'd consider going out of my way to prolong it, Belgarion," he replied.
    "Don't you think you're being just a little childish, Zakath?" Garion snapped, his temper starting to heat up again. "You're not accomplishing a single thing here in Cthol Murgos. There's not one solitary drop of Urga blood left for you to spill, and you've got a situation at home that verges on disaster. Are you a King -or an Emperor, or whatever you want to call it- or are you a spoiled child? You refuse to go back to Mal Zeth just because somebody told you that you ought to. You even dig in your heels when someone assures you that you'll die if you don't go back. That's not only childish, it's irrational, and I don't have the time to try to reason with somebody whose wits have deserted him. Well, you can huddle here in Rak Hagga and nurse all your tired old griefs and disappointments until Cyradis'