Magician's Gambit

wash it clean again.

Chapter Twenty-five
    AS THE LAST trace of light slid from the sky, they moved carefully down off the ridge and crossed the ash-covered sand toward the rock tower looming above them. When they reached the shattered scree at its base, they dismounted, left the horses with Durnik and climbed up the steeply sloped rubble to the rock face of the basalt pinnacle that blotted out the stars. Although Relg had been shuddering and hiding his eyes a moment before, he moved almost eagerly now. He stopped and then carefully placed his hands and forehead against the icy rock.
    "Well?" Belgarath asked after a moment, his voice hushed but carrying a note of dreadful concern: "Was I right? Are there caves?"
    "There are open spaces," Relg replied. "They're a long way inside."
    "Can you get to them?"
    "There's no point. They don't go anywhere. They're just closed-in hollows."
    "Now what?" Silk asked.
    "I don't know," Belgarath admitted, sounding terribly disappointed. "Let's try a little farther around," Relg suggested. "I can feel some echoes here. There might be something off in that direction." He pointed.
    "I want one thing clearly understood right here and now," Silk announced, planting his feet firmly. "I'm not going to go through any more rock. If there's going to be any of that, I'll stay behind."
    "We'll come up with something," Barak told him.
    Silk shook his head stubbornly. "No passing through rock," he declared adamantly.
    Relg was already moving along the face, his fingers lightly touching the basalt. "It's getting stronger," he told them. "It's large and it goes up." He moved on another hundred yards or so, and they followed, watching him intently. "It's right through here," he said finally, patting the rock face with one hand. "It might be the one we want. Wait here." He put his hands against the rock and pushed them slowly into the basalt.
    "I can't stand this," Silk said, turning his back quickly. "Let me know once he's inside."
    With a kind of dreadful determination, Relg pushed his way into the rock.
    "Is he gone yet?" Silk asked.
    "He's going in," Barak replied clinically. "Only half of him's still sticking out."
    "Please, Barak, don't tell me about it."
    "Was it really that bad?" the big man asked.
    "You have no idea. You have absolutely no idea." The rat-faced man was shivering uncontrollably.
    They waited in the chill darkness for half an hour or more. Somewhere high above them there was a scream.
    "What was that cry?" Mandorallen asked.
    "The Grolims are busy," Belgarath answered grimly. "It's the season of the wounding - when the Orb burned Torak's hand and face. A large number of sacrifices are called for at this time of year - usually slaves. Torak doesn't seem to insist on Angarak blood. As long as it's human, it seems to satisfy him."
    There was a faint sound of steps somewhere along the cliff, and a few moments later Relg rejoined them. "I found it," he told them. "The opening's about a half mile farther along. It's partially blocked."
    "Does it go all the way up?" Belgarath demanded.
    Relg shrugged. "It goes up. I can't say how far. The only way to find out for sure is to follow it. The whole series of caves is fairly extensive, though."
    "Do we really have any choice, father?" Aunt Pol asked.
    "No. I suppose not."
    "I'll go get Durnik," Silk said. He turned and disappeared into the darkness.
    The rest of them followed Relg until they reached a small hole in the rock face just above the tumbled scree. "We'll have to move some of this rubble if we're going to get your animals inside," he told them.
    Barak bent and lifted a large stone block. He staggered under its weight and dropped it to one side with a clatter.
    "Quietly!" Belgarath told him.
    "Sorry," Barak mumbled.
    For the most part, the stones were not large, but there were a great many of them. When Silk and Durnik joined them, they all fell to clearing the rubble out of the cave mouth. It took them nearly an hour to remove enough rock to make it possible for the horses to squeeze through.
    "I wish Hettar was here," Barak grunted, putting his shoulder against the rump of a balky packhorse.
    "Talk to him, Barak," Silk suggested.
    "I am talking."
    "Try it without all the curse words."
    "There's going to be some climbing involved," Relg told them after they had pushed the last horse inside and stood in the total blackness of the cave. "As nearly as I can tell, the galleries run vertically, so we'll have to climb from level to