Garion and the others remained at the cottage for another two weeks. Then, noting that Polgara and Durnik were beginning to show signs of wanting to be alone, Poledra suggested that the rest of them go on to the Vale. Promising to return that evening, Garion and Ce’Nedra took their son and the nearly grown wolf pup and accompanied Belgarath and Poledra down into the heart of the Vale.

They reached Belgarath’s familiar squat tower about noon and started up the stairway to the circular room at the top. ‘Watch that step,’ the old man said absently as they climbed. This time, however, Garion stopped, letting the rest go on ahead. He reached down, heaved up the stone slab that was the step, and looked under it. A round stone about the size of a hazel-nut lay under the slab. Garion removed the stone, put it in his pocket, and replaced the slab. He noticed that the other steps were worn in the center, but this one was not, and he wondered just how many centuries – or eons – the old man had been stepping over it. He went on up, feeling rather pleased with himself.

‘What were you doing?’ Belgarath asked him.

‘Fixing that step,’ Garion replied. He handed the old man the round pebble. ‘It was rocking because this was under it. It’s steady now.’

‘I’m going to miss that step, Garion,’ his grandfather complained. He stared at the pebble, frowning. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘now I remember. I put this under the step on purpose.’

‘Whatever for?’ Ce’Nedra asked him.

‘It’s a diamond, Ce’Nedra,’ Belgarath shrugged. ‘I wanted to find out how long it would take to grind it down to a powder.’

‘A diamond?’ she gasped, her eyes widening.

‘You can have it, if you’d like,’ he said, tossing it to her.

Then, taking into account her Tolnedran heritage, Ce’Nedra performed an act of sheer unselfishness. ‘No thanks, Belgarath,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t want to separate you from an old friend. Garion and I can put it back where it was when we leave.’

Belgarath laughed.

Geran and the young wolf were playing together near one of the windows. There was a fair amount of mauling involved in their play, and the wolf was cheating outrageously, seizing every chance to lick Geran’s neck and face, which always sent the little boy into uncontrolled giggling.

Poledra was looking around at the cluttered circular room. ‘It’s good to be home,’ she said. She was fondly caressing the back of the owl-clawed chair. ‘I spent almost a thousand years perched on this chair,’ she told Garion.

‘What were you doing, Grandmother,’ Ce’Nedra asked her. Ce’Nedra had begun, perhaps without realizing it, to mimic Garion’s customary forms of address.

‘Watching him,’ the tawny-haired woman replied. ‘I knew that eventually he’d get around to noticing me. I didn’t really think it would take him all that long, though. I really had to do something out of the ordinary to get his attention.’

‘Oh?’

‘I chose this form,’ Poledra said, touching one hand to her br**sts. ‘He seemed more interested in me as a woman than he did when I was an owl – or a wolf.’

‘There was something I always meant to ask you,’ Belgarath said. ‘There weren’t any other wolves around when we met. What were you doing out there?’

‘Waiting for you.’

He blinked. ‘You knew I was coming?’

‘Of course.’

‘When was that?’ Ce’Nedra asked.

‘Just after Torak stole the Orb from Aldur,’ Belgarath replied, his mind obviously on something else. ‘My Master had sent me north to advise Belar of what had happened. I took the form of the wolf to make better time. Poledra and I met somewhere in what’s now northern Algaria.’ He looked at his wife. ‘Who told you I was coming?’ he asked her.

‘No one had to tell me, Belgarath,’ she replied. ‘I was born knowing you’d come – someday. You certainly took your time about it, though.’ She looked around critically. ‘I think we should tidy up a bit here,’ she suggested, ‘and those windows definitely need some curtains.’

‘See?’ Belgarath said to Garion.

There were kisses and embraces and handshakes and a few tears – although not really very many of those. Then Ce’Nedra picked up Geran, and Garion the wolf, and they started down the stairs.

‘Oh,’ Garion said when they were halfway down, ‘give me the diamond. I’ll put it back where it belongs.’

‘Wouldn’t an ordinary pebble work just as well, Garion?’ Her eyes were suddenly calculating.

‘Ce’Nedra, if you want a diamond so badly, I’ll buy you one.’

‘I know, Garion, but if I keep this one I’ll have two.’

He laughed, firmly took the diamond from her tightly clenched little fist, and returned it to its place under the step.

They mounted their horses and rode slowly away from the tower in the bright sunshine of a spring noon. Ce’Nedra held Geran, and the wolf scampered alongside, dashing out from time to time to chase rabbits.

After they had gone a little way, Garion heard a familiar whisper of sound. He reined Chretienne in. ‘Ce’Nedra,’ he said, pointing back at the tower, ‘look.’

She looked back. ‘I don’t see anything.’

‘Wait. They’ll be out in a moment.’

‘They?’

‘Grandmother and Grandfather. There they come now.’

Two wolves bounded out through the open door of the tower and ran across the grassy plain, matching stride for stride as they ran. There was a kind of unbridled freedom and an intense joy in the way they ran.

‘I thought they were going to get started with the cleaning,’ Ce’Nedra said.

‘This is more important, Ce’Nedra. Much, much more important.’

They reached the cottage just as the sun was going down. Durnik was still busy in the fields, and they could hear Polgara singing softly in the kitchen. Ce’Nedra went inside, and Garion and the wolf crossed the field to join Durnik.

The meal that evening consisted of a roast goose and everything that went with it: gravy, dressing, three kinds of vegetables, and freshly baked bread, still hot from the oven and dripping with butter.

‘Where did you get the goose, Pol?’ Durnik asked.

‘I cheated,’ she admitted calmly.

‘Pol!’

‘I’ll explain it some other time, dear. Let’s eat it before it all gets cold.’