Hettar sighed somewhat mournfully.
“Don’t take it so hard, Hettar,” Silk bantered. “Murgos are a fanatic race. You can be practically certain that a few of them at least will try the descent—no matter what’s waiting for them at the bottom. You’d almost have to make an example of them, wouldn’t you?”
Hettar’s face brightened at that thought.
“Silk,” Lady Polgara said reprovingly.
The little man turned an innocent face to her. “We have to discourage pursuit, Polgara,” he protested.
“Of course,” she replied sarcastically.
“It wouldn’t do to have Murgos infesting the Vale, would it?”
“Do you mind?”
“I’m not really all that bloodthirsty, you know.”
She turned her back on him.
Silk sighed piously. “She always thinks the worst of me.”
By now Ce’Nedra had had sufficient time to consider the implications of the promise she had so unhesitatingly given to UL. The others would soon leave, and she must remain behind. Already she was beginning to feel isolated, cut off from them, as they made plans which did not include her. The more she thought about it, the worse it became. She felt her lower lip beginning to quiver.
The Gorim of the Ulgos had been watching her, his wise old face sympathetic. “It’s difficult to be left behind,” he said gently, almost as if his large eyes had seen directly into her thoughts, “and our caves are strange to you—dark and seemingly filled with gloom.”
Wordlessly she nodded her agreement.
“In a day or so, however,” he continued, “your eyes will become accustomed to the subdued light. There are beauties here which no one from the outside has ever seen. While it’s true that we have no flowers, there are hidden caverns where gems bloom on the floors and walls like wild blossoms. No trees or foliage grow in our sunless world, but I know a cave wall where vines of pure gold twist in ropey coils down from the ceiling and spill out across the floor.”
“Careful, Holy Gorim,” Silk warned. “The Princess is Tolnedran. If you show her that kind of wealth, she may go into hysterics right before your eyes.”
“I don’t find that particularly amusing, Prince Kheldar,” Ce’Nedra told him in a frosty tone.
“I’m overcome with remorse, your Imperial Highness,” he apologized with towering hypocrisy and a florid bow.
In spite of herself, the princess laughed. The rat-faced little Drasnian was so absolutely outrageous that she found it impossible to remain angry with him.
“You’ll be as my beloved granddaughter while you stay in Ulgo, Princess,” the Gorim told her. “We can walk together beside our silent lakes and explore long forgotten caves. And we can talk. The world outside knows little of Ulgo. It may well be that you will become the very first stranger to understand us.”
Ce’Nedra impulsively reached out to take his frail old hand in hers. He was a dear old man. “I’ll be honored, Holy Gorim,” she told him with complete sincerity.
They stayed that night in comfortable quarters in the Gorim’s pyramid-shaped house—though the terms night and day had no meaning in this strange land beneath the earth. The following morning several Ulgos led the horses into the Gorim’s cavern, traveling, the princess assumed, by some longer route than the one the party had followed, and her friends made their preparations to leave. Ce’Nedra sat to one side, feeling terribly alone already. Her eyes moved from face to face as she tried to fix each of them in her memory. When she came at last to Garion, her eyes brimmed.
Irrationally, she had already begun to worry about him. He was so impulsive. She knew that he’d do things that would put him in danger once he was out of her sight. To be sure, Polgara would be there to watch aver him, but it wasn’t the same. She felt quite suddenly angry with him for all the foolish things he was going to do and for the worry his careless behavior was going to cause her. She glared at him, wishing that he would do something for which she could scold him.
She had determined that she would not follow them out of the Gorim’s house—that she would not stand forlornly at the edge of the water staring after them as they departed—but as they all filed out through the heavy-arched doorway, her resolution crumbled. Without thinking she ran after Garion and caught his arm.
He turned with surprise, and she stretched up on her tiptoes, took his face between her tiny hands and kissed him. “You must be careful,” she commanded. Then she kissed him again, spun and ran sobbing back into the house, leaving him staring after her in baffled astonishment.
Part Four
Cthol Murgos
19
They had been in the darkness for days. The single dim light Relg carried could only provide a point of reference, something to follow. The darkness pressed against Garion’s face, and he stumbled along the uneven floor with one hand thrust out in front of him to keep himself from banging his head into unseen rocks. It was not only the musty smelling darkness, however. He could sense the oppressive weight of the mountains above him and on all sides. The stone seemed to push in on him; he was closed in, sealed up in miles of solid rock. He fought continually with the faint, fluttering edges of panic and he often clenched his teeth to keep from screaming.
There seemed to be no purpose to the twisting, turning route Relg followed. At the branching of passageways, his choices seemed random, but always he moved with steady confidence through the dark, murmuring caves where the memory of sounds whispered in the dank air, voices out of the past echoing endlessly, whispering, whispering. Relg’s air of confidence as he led them was the only thing that kept Garion from giving in to unreasoning panic.
At one point the zealot stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Silk asked sharply, his voice carrying that same faint edge of panic that Garion felt gnawing at his own awareness.
“I have to cover my eyes here,” Relg replied. He was wearing a peculiarly fashioned shirt of leaf mail, a strange garment formed of overlapping metal scales, belted at the waist and with a snug-fitting hood that left only his face exposed. From his belt hung a heavy, hook-pointed knife, a weapon that made Garion cold just to look at it. He drew a piece of cloth out from under his mail shirt and carefully tied it over his face.
“Why are you doing that?” Durnik asked him.
“There’s a vein of quartz in the cavern just ahead,” Relg told him. “It reflects sunlight down from the outside. The light is very bright.”
“How can you tell which way to go if you’re blindfolded?” Silk protested.
“The cloth isn’t that thick. I can see through it well enough. Let’s go.
They rounded a corner in the gallery they were following, and Garion saw light ahead. He resisted an impulse to run toward it. They moved on, the hooves of the horses Hettar was leading clattering on the stone floor. The lighted cavern was huge, and it was filled with a glittering crystal light. A gleaming band of quartz angled across the ceiling, illuminating the cavern with a blazing radiance. Great points of stone hung like icicles from the ceiling, and other points rose from the floor to meet them. In the center of the cavern another underground lake stretched, its surface rippled by a tiny waterfall trickling down into its upper end with an endless tinkling sound that echoed in the cave like a little silver bell and joined harmoniously with the faint, remembered sigh of the singing of the Ulgos miles behind. Garion’s eyes were dazzled by color that seemed to be everywhere. The prisms in the crystalline quartz twisted the light, breaking it into colored fragments and filling the cave with the multihued light of the rainbow. Garion found himself quite suddenly wishing that he could show the dazzling cave to Ce’Nedra, and the thought puzzled him.
“Hurry,” Relg urged them, holding one hand across his brow as if to further shade his already veiled eyes.