The Seeress of Kell

wandering in the forest when we were bringing the sheep up to summer pasture."
    Belgarath's eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you suppose I might be able to talk with him?" he asked. "I've made a study of such things, and I'm always eager to get additional information."
    "Of course," Burk agreed. "He's in the last tent on the right."
    "Garion, Pol, come along," the old man said tersely and started along the log street. Oddly, the she-wolf accompanied them.
    "Why the sudden curiosity, father?" Polgara asked when they were out of earshot.
    "I want to find out just how effective this curse the Dals have laid around Kell really is. If it's something that can be overcome, we might run into Zandramas when we get there after all."
    They found the Grolim sitting on the floor in his tent. The harsh angularity of his face had softened, and his sightless eyes had lost the burning fanaticism common to all Grolims. His face instead was filled with a kind of wonder.
    "How is it with you, friend?" Belgarath asked him gently.
    "I am content," the Grolim replied. The word seemed peculiar coming from the mouth of a priest of Torak.
    "Why is it that you tried to approach Kell? Didn't you know about the curse?"
    "It is not a curse. It is a blessing."
    "A blessing?"
    "I was ordered by the Sorceress Zandramas to try to reach the holy city of the Dals," the Grolim continued. "She told me that I would be exalted should I be successful." He smiled gently. "It was in her mind, I think, to test the strength of the enchantment to determine if it might be safe for her to attempt the journey."
    "I gather that it wouldn't be."
    "That is difficult to say. Great benefit might come to her if she tried."
    "I'd hardly call going blind a benefit."
    "But I am not blind."
    "I thought that's what the enchantment was all about."
    "Oh, no. I cannot see the world around me, but that is because I see something else—something that fills my heart with joy."
    "Oh? What's that?"
    "I see the face of God, my friend, and will until the end of my days."

CHAPTER THREE
    It was always there. Even when they were in deep, cool forests they could feel it looming over them, still and white and serene. The mountain filled their eyes, their thoughts, and even their dreams. Silk grew increasingly irritable as they rode day after day toward that gleaming white enormity. "How can anyone possibly get anything done in this part of the world with that thing there filling up half the sky?" he burst out one sunny afternoon.
    "Perhaps they ignore it, Kheldar," Velvet said sweetly.
    "How can you ignore something that big?" he retorted. "I wonder if it knows how ostentatious—and even vulgar—it is."
    "You're being irrational," she said. "The mountain doesn't care how we feel about it. It's going to be there long after we're all gone." She paused. "Is that what bothers you, Kheldar? Coming across something permanent in the middle of a transient life?"
    "The stars are permanent," he pointed out, "So's dirt, for that matter, but they don't intrude the way that beast does." He looked at Zakath. "Has anybody ever climbed to the top of it?" he asked.
    "Why would anybody want to?"
    "To beat it. To reduce it." Silk laughed. "That's even more irrational, isn't it?"
    Zakath, however, was looking speculatively at the looming presence that filled the southern sky. "I don't know, Kheldar," he said. "I've never considered the possibility of fighting a mountain before. It's easy to beat men. To beat a mountain, though—now that's something else.''
    "Would it care?" Eriond asked. The young man so seldom spoke that he seemed at times to be as mute as Toth. He had of late, however, seemed even more withdrawn. "The mountain might even welcome you." He smiled gently. "I'd imagine it gets lonesome. It could even want to share what it sees with anyone brave enough to go up there and look."
    Zakath and Silk exchanged a long, almost hungry look. "You'd need ropes," Silk said in a neutral sort of tone.
    "And probably certain kinds of tools, as well," Zakath added. "Things that would dig into the ice and hold you while you climbed up higher.''
    "Durnik could figure those out for us."
    "Will you two stop that?'' Polgara said tartly. "We have other things to think about right now."
    "Just speculation, Polgara," Silk said lightly. "This business of ours won't last forever, and when it's over—well, who knows?"
    They were all subtly changed by the mountain. Speech seemed less and less necessary, and they all