"No place in particular. I just need to stretch out a few kinks." And the gray wolf bounded away with astonishing speed.
The tail was a definite problem at first. Garion kept forgetting that it was there, and its swishing back and forth kept jerking him off balance. By the time he got the hang of it, the old wolf was far out ahead of him on the gray-green moors. After a while, however, Garion found himself literally flying across the ground. His paws scarcely seemed to touch the earth as he bunched and stretched his body in great bounds. He marvelled at the economy of the running gait of the wolf. He ran not with his legs alone, but with his entire body. He became quite certain that, if need be, he could run for days without tiring.
The rolling moors were different somehow. What had seemed as desolate and empty as the dead sky overhead was suddenly teeming with life. There were mice and burrowing squirrels; in scrubby brown thickets, rabbits, petrified with fright, watched him as he loped by with his toenails digging into the springy turf. Silently he exulted in the strength and freedom of his new body. He was the lord of the plain, and all creatures gave way to him.
And then he was not alone. Another wolf ran beside him - a strangely insubstantial-looking wolf that seemed to have a bluish, flickering light playing about her.
"And how far will you run?" she asked him in the manner of wolves.
"We can stop if you'd like," Garion replied politely, dropping back into a lope and then a trot.
"It's easier to talk if one isn't running," she agreed. She stopped and dropped to her haunches.
Garion also stopped. "You're Poledra, aren't you?" He asked it very directly, not yet accustomed to the subtleties of the language of wolves.
"Wolves have no need of names," she sniffed. "He used to worry about that, too."
It was not exactly like the voice that had been in his mind since his childhood. He didn't actually hear her, but instead he seemed to know exactly what she wanted to say to him. "Grandfather, you mean?"
"Who else? Men seem to have a need to classify things and put names on them. I think they overlook some very important things that way."
"How is it that you're here? Aren't you - well -?"
"Dead, you mean? Don't be afraid of the word. It's only a word, after all. I suppose I am, though. It doesn't really feel all that much different."
"Doesn't somebody have to do something to bring you back?" he asked. "Like what Aunt Pol did that time when we were fighting with Grul in the mountains of Ulgo?"
"It's not entirely necessary. I can be summoned that way, but I can manage it myself if I have to." She looked at him quizzically. "You're really confused by all this, aren't you?"
"All of what?"
"Everything. Who you are; who we are; what you have to do."
"A little," he admitted.
"Let me see if I can explain it. Take him for instance. I never really saw him as a man, you know. There's something decidedly wolfish about him. I always rather thought that his being born in man-shape had been a mistake of some kind. Maybe it was because of what he had to do. The shape doesn't really matter, though."
"It doesn't?"
"Did you really think it did?" She almost seemed to laugh. "Here. Let me show you. Let's change." She shimmered into air and was standing before him then in the form of a tawny-haired woman with golden eyes. Her gown was very plain and brown.
Garion shrugged himself back into his natural form.
"Am I really any different, Belgarion?" she asked him. "Am I not who I am, whether as wolf or owl or woman?"
And then he understood. "May I call you Grandmother?" he asked her, a bit embarrassed.
"If it makes you happy," she replied. "It's a bit inaccurate, though."
"I know," he said, "but I feel a little more comfortable with it."
"Have you finally accepted who you are?"
"I don't have much choice, do I?"
"But you're afraid of it and what you have to do, is that it?" He nodded mutely.
"You're not going to be alone, you know."
He looked at her sharply. "I thought the Codex said-"
"The Codex doesn't really say everything that's involved," she told him. "Your meeting with Torak will be the coming together of two enormous, opposing forces. The two of you are really just the representatives of those forces. There'll be so much power involved in your meeting that you and Torak will be almost incidental to what's really happening."
"Why couldn't somebody else do it then?" he asked quickly. "Somebody better suited to it?"
"I said almost incidental," she said firmly. "It has to be you, and it's always been Torak. You are the channels through which the forces will collide. When it happens, I think you'll be surprised at how easy it all is."
"Am I going to win?"
"I don't know. The universe itself doesn't know. That's why you have to meet him. If we knew how it would turn out, the meeting wouldn't be necessary." She looked around. "Belgarath's coming back. I'll have to leave you now."
"Why-"
"My presence pains him - more than you could ever know."
"Because-?" He broke off, not knowing how to say it.
"We were closer than others and we were together for a very long time. Sometimes I wish that he could understand that we haven't really been separated, but perhaps it's too early."
"It's been three thousand years, Grandmother."
"What is time to a wolf?" she asked cryptically. "The mating of wolves is permanent, and the grief caused by separation is also permanent. Perhaps someday-" Her voice trailed off wistfully, and then she sighed. "As soon as I leave, change back again. Belgarath will want you to hunt with him. It's sort of a formality. You'll understand when you're back in the shape of a wolf."
Garion nodded and began to form the image of the wolf in his mind. "One other thing, Belgarion."
"Yes, Grandmother?"
"I do love you, you know."
"I love you too, Grandmother."
And then she was gone. Garion sighed and changed himself back into a wolf. And then he went out from that place to join Belgarath in the hunt.
Part Four - THE RIVAN QUEEN
Chapter Twenty-two
THE PRINCESS CE'NEDRA Was in a thoughtful, even pensive mood. Much as she had enjoyed the turmoil her periodic outbursts of temper had caused, she rather regretfully concluded that it was probably time to put them aside and make peace with Garion. They were going to be married, after all, and there was no real point in upsetting him any more than absolutely necessary. Her tantrums had established the fact that, although he might outrank her, she would not enter the marriage as his inferior, and that was really all she had wanted anyway. On the whole, the prospect of being married to Garion was not nearly as unpleasant as she pretended. She did love him after all, and now that he understood exactly how things were going to stand between them, everything was likely to be quite satisfactory. She decided to find him that very day and make peace with him.The largest part of her attention that spring morning had been taken up by a book on protocol and a chart she was carefully drawing up. As Imperial Princess of Tolnedra and Queen of Riva, she would, of course, absolutely outrank every grand duchess of every house in the Empire. She was also fairly sure that she outranked Queen Islena of Cherek and Queen Silar of Algaria. Mayaserana's status as co-ruler of Arendia raised some problems, however. It was entirely possible that she and Mayaserana were equals. Ce'Nedra made a note on a scrap of parchment reminding herself to have Ambassador Valgon direct an inquiry to the chief of protocol in Tol Honeth concerning the matter. She felt a nice little glow as she surveyed the chart. With the exception of Lady Polgara and the motherly little Queen Layla of Sendaria, to whom everyone deferred because she was such a dear, Ce'Nedra concluded that she would in fact outrank or at least equal every noble lady in the West.