Sorceress of Darshiva

is business, Prince Kheldar," Sadi said blandly.
    Vetter smiled. "There are these few documents, your Highness," he said to Silk, handing over the parchments he carried. "As long as you're waiting, I thought you might want to glance at them. A few require your signature."
    Silk sighed. "I suppose I might as well," he agreed.
    "It does save time, your Highness. Sometimes it takes quite a while for things to catch up with you."
    Silk riffled through the stack. "This all seems fairly routine. Is there anything else of note going on?"
    "The house is being watched, your Highness," Vetter reported. "A couple of Rolla's secret policemen. I imagine they'll try to follow you when you leave."
    Silk frowned. "I'd forgotten about him. Is there some way to get them off our trail?"
    "I think I can manage that for your Highness."
    "Nothing fatal, though," Silk cautioned. "The Rivan King here disapproves of random fatalities." He grinned at Garion.
    "I think we'll be able to deal with the situation without bloodshed, your Highness."
    "Anything else I should know about?"
    "The Consortium will make an offer on our bean holdings tomorrow morning," Vetter replied. "They'll start at three points below market and go as high as five above it."
    "How did you find that out?" Silk looked amazed.
    "I've bribed one of the members." Vetter shrugged. "I promised to give him a quarter point commission on everything over ten—a bit generous, perhaps, but we may need him again sometime, and now I'll have a hold on him."
    "That's worth a quarter of a point right there."
    "I thought so myself, your Highness." Vetter laughed suddenly. "Oh, one other thing, Prince Kheldar. We have this investment opportunity.''
    "Oh?"
    "Actually, it's more in the nature of a charitable contribution."
    "I gave at the office," Silk said with an absolutely straight face. Then his nose twitched slightly. "It wouldn't hurt to hear about it, though, I guess."
    "There's a very grubby little alchemist at the university," Vetter explained. "He absolutely swears that he can turn brass into gold."
    "Well, now." Silk's eyes brightened.
    Vetter held up a cautioning hand. "The cost, however, is prohibitive at this time. It doesn't make much sense to spend two pieces of gold to get back one."
    "No, I wouldn't say so."
    "The little clubfoot maintains that he can reduce the cost, though. He's been approaching every businessman in Melcena about the project. He needs a rich patron to underwrite the cost of his experiments."
    "Did you look into the matter at all?"
    "Of course. Unless he's a very skilled trickster, it appears that he actually can turn brass into gold. He has a rather peculiar reputation. They say that he's been around for centuries. He's got a bad temper and he smells awful— the chemicals he uses, I understand."
    Belgarath's eyes suddenly went very wide. "What did you call him?" he demanded.
    "I don't believe I mentioned his name, Ancient One," Vetter replied. "He's called Senji."
    "I don't mean his name. Describe him."
    "He's short and mostly bald. He wears a beard—though most of his whiskers have been singed off. Sometimes his experiments go awry, and there have been explosions. Oh, and he has a clubfoot—the left one, I believe."
    "That's it!'‘ Belgarath exclaimed, snapping his fingers.
    "Don't be cryptic, father," Polgara said primly.
    "The prophecy told Garion that somebody was going to say something to us in passing today that was very important. This is it."
    "I don't quite—"
    "At Ashaba, Cyradis told us to seek out the clubfooted one because he'd help us in our search."
    "There are many men with clubfeet in the world, father."
    "I know, but the prophecy went out of its way to introduce this one."
    "Introduce?"
    "Maybe that's the wrong word, but you know what I mean."
    "It does sort of fit, Pol," Beldin said. "As I remember, we were talking about the Ashabine Oracles when Cyradis told us about this clubfoot. She said that Zandramas has one uncut copy, Nahaz has another, and that this clubfoot has the third—or knows where it is."
    "It's pretty thin, Belgarath," Durnik said dubiously.
    "We've got time enough to chase it down," the old man replied. "We can't go anywhere until we find out where Zandramas is going anyway." He looked at Vetter. "Where do we find this Senji?"
    "He's on the faculty of the College of Applied Alchemy at the university, Ancient One."
    "All right, I'll take Garion and we'll go there. The rest of you might as well get ready to