The Seeress of Kell

right. He would have to build up an almost unbearable suspense in the mind of Zandramas, then dash her hopes all at once. Rather artfully, he drew his face into an expression of agonized indecision. He wandered among his friends, his face filled with a purely feigned bafflement. He stopped from time to time to look deeply into their faces, even going so far as to occasionally half raise his hand as if on the very verge of choosing the wrong person. Each time he did that, be clearly felt a wild surge of glee coming from Zandramas. She was not even attempting to hide her emotions. Better and better. His enemy by now was no longer even rational.
    "What are you doing?" Polgara whispered when he stopped in front of her.
    “I’ll explain later," he murmured. "It's necessary and important. You’ve got to trust me, Aunt Pol." He moved on. When be reached Belgarath, he felt a momentary apprehension emanating from Zandramas. The Eternal Man was certainly someone to be reckoned with, and should the eminence of the Child of Light be added to that and the potential for divinity, as well the old man could be a serious adversary.
    "Will you move on with it, Garion?" his grandfather muttered.
    "I'm trying to push Zandramas off balance," Garion whispered. "Please watch her closely after I choose. She might try something."
    "Then you know who it's going to be?"
    "Of course. I'm trying not to think about it, though. I don't want her to pick it out of my mind.”
    The old man made a face. "Do it your way, Garion. Just don't drag it out too long. Let's not irritate Cyradis as well as Zandramas."
    Garion nodded and moved past Sadi and Velvet, letting his mind push out toward that of Zandramas as he did. Her emotions were veering around wildly now, and it was clear that she was at a fever pitch. To draw things out any further would serve no purpose. He stopped at last in front of Silk and Eriond. "Keep your face straight," he warned the rat-faced little man. "Don't let Zandramas see any change of expression no matter what I seem to be doing.”
    "Don't make any mistakes here, Garion," Silk warned. "I'm not looking for a sudden promotion of any kind.”
    Garion nodded. It was nearly over now. He looked at Eriond, a young man who was almost his brother. “I 'm sorry about this, Eriond," he apologized in a low murmur. "You probably won't want to thank me for what I'm about to do."
    "It's all right, Belgarion." Eriond smiled. "I’ve known it was going to happen for quite some time now. I'm ready."
    And that clinched it. Eriond had answered the ubiquitous question "Are you ready?" for probably the last time. Eriond, it appeared, was and probably had been since the day he was born. Everything now slipped into place to fit together so tightly that nothing could ever take it apart again.
    "Choose, Belgarion," Cyradis urged.
    "I have, Cyradis," Garion said simply. He stretched out his hand and laid it on Eriond's shoulder. "Here is my choice. Here is the Child of Light."
    “Perfect!” Belgarath exclaimed.
    "Done!" the voice in Garion's mind agreed.
    Garion felt a peculiar wrench followed by a kind of regretful emptiness. He was no longer the Child of Light. It was Eriond's responsibility now, but Garion knew that he still had one last responsibility of his own. He turned slowly, trying to make it look casual. The expression on the light-speckled face of Zandramas was a mixture of rage, fear, and frustration. It confirmed that what Garion had just done had been the right thing. He had made the proper choice. He had never actually done what he tried to do next before, although he had seen and felt Aunt Pol do it many times. This was not, however, a time for random experimentation. Carefully, he sent his mind out again, looking this time not so much for overall emotional responses from Zandramas as for specifics. He had to know exactly what she was going to try to do before she could put it into motion.
    The mind of the Sorceress of Darshiva was filled with a confused welter of thoughts and emotions. The wild hope Garion's subterfuge had raised in her seemed to have done its work. Zandramas floundered, unable to concentrate now on her next step. But step she must. Garion perceived that she simply could not leave the matter wholly in the hands of the Seeress of Kell.
    "Go thou then, Child of Light, to stand beside the Child of Dark that I may choose between ye," Cyradis said.
    Eriond nodded. Then he turned and crossed the grotto to stand beside