Sorceress of Darshiva

hands. "It's a strange reddish sort of color, and kind of milky-looking—like certain kinds of flint. Anyway, as I said, the emperor didn't really want the thing, so when he got back to Melcena, he donated it to the university. It was passed around from department to department, 'and it finally ended up here in this museum. It lay in that case for thousands of years, collecting dust, and nobody really paid any attention to it."
    "How did it leave here?" Belgarath asked.
    "I was just getting to that. About five hundred years ago ere was a scholar in the College of Arcane Learning. He was a strange sort who heard voices. At any rate, he became absolutely obsessed with Cthrag Sardius. He used to sneak in here at night and sit for hours staring at it. I think he believed that it was talking to him."
    "It's possible," Beldin said. "It could probably do that."
    This scholar grew more and more irrational and he finally came in here one night and stole Cthrag Sardius. I don’t think anyone would have noticed that it was missing, but the scholar fled the island as if all the legions of Melcene were on his heels. He took ship and sailed south. His ship was last seen near the southern tip of Gandahar, and it seemed to be bound in the direction of the Dalasian Protectorates. The ship never came back, so it was generally assumed that she went down in a storm somewhere in those waters. That's all I really know about it."
    Beldin scratched reflectively at his stomach. "It sort of fits together, Belgarath. The Sardion has the same kind of power that the Orb has. I'd say that it's been taking conscious steps to move itself from place to place—probably in response to certain events. It's my guess that if we pinned it down, we'd find that this Melcene emperor took it out of Zamad at just about the time that you and Bear-shoulders went to Cthol Mishrak to steal back the Orb. Then that scholar Senji mentioned stole it from here at just about the time of the Battle of Vo Mimbre."
    "You speak as if it were alive," Senji objected.
    "It is," Beldin told him, "and it can control the thoughts of people around it. Obviously it can't get up and walk by itself, so it has men do the picking and carrying."
    "It's pretty speculative, Beldin," Belgarath said.
    "That's what I do best. Shall we move along? We've got a boat to catch, you know. We can sort all this out later."
    Belgarath nodded and looked at Senji. "We've been advised that you might be able to help us," he said.
    "I can try."
    "Good. Someone told us that you might be able to put your hands on an uncut copy of the Ashabine Oracles."
    "Who said so?" Senji asked warily.
    "A Dalasian seeress named Cyradis."
    "Nobody believes anything the seers say," Senji scoffed.
    "I do. In seven thousand years, I've never known a seer to be wrong—cryptic, sometimes, but never wrong."
    Senji backed away from him.
    "Don't be coy, Senji," Beldin told him. "Do you know where we can find a copy of the Oracles?"
    "There used to be one in the library of this college," the alchemist replied evasively.
    "Used to be?"
    Senji looked around nervously. Then he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I stole it," he confessed.
    "Does it have any passages cut out of it?" Belgarath asked intently.
    "Not that I could see, no."
    Belgarath let his breath out explosively. "Well, finally," be said. "I think we just beat Zandramas at her own game."
    "You're going up against Zandramas?" Senji asked incredulously.
    "Just as soon as we can catch up with her," Beldin told him.
    "She's terribly dangerous, you know."
    "So are we," Belgarath said. "Where's this book you stole?"
    "It's hidden in my laboratory. The university officials are very narrow about people from one department pilfering from other people's libraries."
    "Officials are always narrow." Beldin shrugged. "It's one of the qualifications for the job. Let's go back to your laboratory. My ancient friend here has to read that book."
    Senji limped toward the door and back out into the hallway again.
    The thin man in ecclesiastical robes had somehow managed to get his desk back where it belonged and he sat at it again. Garion noticed that his eyes were a little wild.
    "We'll be leaving now," Belgarath told him. "Any objections?"
    The thin man shrank back.
    "Wise decision," Beldin said.
    It was late afternoon by now, and the autumn sun streamed down on the well-maintained lawn.
    "I wonder if the others have traced down Naradas yet," Garion said as they walked back toward the