King of The Murgos

an Angarak King present at the meeting. Cyradis didn't say anything about that, and neither did the Prophecy."
    "That's a Grolim book you've got there, Grandfather," Garion pointed out. "Maybe it's wrong."
    "That's possible, too, but it does help to explain why Zandramas is moving around so stealthily. If Urvon knows about this the way Agachak obviously does, they'll both be doing everything in their power to get your son away from her. Whichever one of them gets to the Sardion with Geran and one of the Kings of Angarak is going to gain absolute control of the Grolim Church."
    "Why my son?" Garion demanded. "Why would he be the one chosen for sacrifice?"
    "I'm not sure, Garion. We haven't found an explanation for that yet."
    "I don't think we'd better tell Ce'Nedra about this," Garion said. "She has problems enough as it is."
    The door opened again, and Garion spun, his hand going over his shoulder to the hilt of his sword.
    "Belgarath? Are you in here?" It was Silk's voice.
    "Back here," Belgarath answered. "Keep your voice down."
    "We've got trouble," the little man said, coming to the back of the library to join them. "Eriond is missing."
    "What?" Garion exclaimed.
    "He slipped out when none of us was watching."
    Belgarath slammed his fist down on the table and swore. "What's the matter with that boy?" he burst out.
    Silk pushed back the hood of the Grolim robe he wore. "Polgara was going to go looking for him, but Durnik and I talked her out of it. I said I'd come and find you instead."
    "We'd better find him," the old man said, rising to his feet. "Pol will only wait for so long before she starts acting on her own. We'd better split up. We can cover more ground that way." He led them to the door of the library, glanced out quickly, and then went out into the hall. "Don't do anything unusual," he cautioned Garion in a whisper. "There are Grolims in this place with enough talent to hear you if you start making any noise." Garion nodded.
    "And check back with the others from time to time. We won't accomplish much if one of us finds Eriond and then has to go looking for the other two. Let's go." He moved quickly off down the dimly lighted hallway.
    "How did he manage to slip past Aunt Pol?" Garion whispered to Silk as the two of them went side by side back the way they had come.
    "Ce'Nedra had a bout of hysterics," Silk replied. "The sacrifices upset her. Polgara had her in one of the cells trying to calm her down. That's when Eriond slipped out."
    "Is she all right?" Garion demanded, the sinking fear that had been with him since Prolgu returning with sudden force.
    "I think so. Polgara gave her something, and she's sleeping." Silk carefully looked around a corner. "I'll go this way," he whispered. "Be careful." He moved off on silent feet.
    Garion stood waiting for his friend to get well out of sight, then cautiously stepped out into the next corridor, folding his hands on his chest and lowering his cowled head in an imitation of Grolim piety. What could Eriond possibly be thinking of? The sheer irresponsibility of the boy's act made Garion want to pound his fist against the wall. He moved down the corridor, trying his best not to do anything that might look suspicious and carefully cracking open each door he came to.
    "What is it?" a harshly accented voice demanded from inside a dark room when he opened the door.
    "Sorry, brother," Garion muttered, trying to imitate the thickly accented Angarak speech, "wrong door." He quickly closed it again and went on down the corridor, moving as fast as he dared.
    The door behind him was suddenly yanked open, and a half-dressed Grolim stepped out, his face angry. "You there," he shouted after Garion, "stop!"
    Garion threw a quick look over his shoulder and was around the corner into the broad central corridor of the Temple in two steps.
    "Come back here!" the Grolim shouted, and Garion heard his bare feet slapping on the flagstone floor as he ran in pursuit. Garion swore and then took a gamble. He yanked open the first door that presented itself and darted inside. A quick glance told him that the room was empty, and he closed the door and set his ear against its panel to listen.
    "What's the trouble?" he heard someone demand from the corridor outside.
    "Someone just tried to come into my cell." Garion recognized the outraged voice of the Grolim upon whom he had just intruded.
    There was a sly chuckle. "Perhaps you should have waited to see what she wanted."
    "It was a