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Everything was changing; that was the whole problem The core of his life, the rock upon which his childhood had been built, had always been Aunt Pol In the simple world of Faldor's farm she had been Mistress Pol, the cook, but in the world beyond Faldor's gate she was Polgara the Sorceress, who had watched the passage of four millennia with a purpose beyond abond storyteller, had also changed Garion kne that this old friend was in fact his great-great grandfather - with an infinite nuood uish old face there had always been the steady gaze of Belgarath the Sorcerer, who had watched and waited as he had looked upon the folly of ed on through the fog

Their very na Garion had never wanted to believe in sorcery or s were unnatural, and they violated his notion of solid, sensible reality But too s had happened to allow hier In a single, shattering instant the last vestiges of his doubt had been swept away As he had watched with stunned disbelief, Aunt Pol had erased the esture and a single word, restoring theher power to see into the future with a brutal evenhandedness Garion shuddered at thewail That cry somehow marked the point at which the world had become less solid, less sensible, and infinitely less safe

Uprooted from the only place he had ever known, unsure of the identities of the two people closest to him, and with his whole conception of the difference between the possible and the impossible destroyed, Garion found hie He had no idea what they were doing in this shattered city sed up in trees, and not the faintest idea where they would go when they left The only certainty that reht to which he now clung; soh the predawn darkness to a se and had murdered Garion's parents; if it took hi to find thatto kill hi in that one solid fact

He carefully climbed over the rubble of a house that had fallen outward into the street and continued his gloo to see The patient centuries had erased nearly all of what the war had left behind, and slushy snow and thick fog hid even those last rean to retrace his steps toward thestuht

As he approached, he saw Mister Wolf and Aunt Pol standing together so quietly The old man's rust-colored hood was turned up, and Aunt Pol's blue cloak was drawn about her There was a look of tiy ruins Her long, dark hair spilled down her back, and the single white lock at her brow seemed paler than the snow at her feet

"There he is now," Mister Wolf said to her as Garion approached theravely at Garion "Where have you been?" she asked

"No place," Garion replied "I was thinking, that's all"

"I see you've ed to soak your feet"

Garion lifted one of his sodden brown boots and looked down at the ht," he apologized

"Does wearing that thing reallyat the sword Garion alore now

"Everybody keeps saying how dangerous Arendia is," Garion explained "Besides, I need to get used to it" He shifted the creaking new leather sword belt around until the wirebound hilt was not so obvious The sword had been an Erastide present froifts he had received when the holiday had passed while they were at sea

"It doesn't really suit you, you know," the old ly

"Leave him alone, father," Aunt Pol said almost absently "It's his, after all, and he can wear it if he likes"

"Shouldn't Hettar be here by now?" Garion asked, wanting to change the subject

"He may have run into deep snow in the mountains of Sendaria," Wolf replied "He'll be here Hettar's very dependable"

"I don't see e just didn't buy horses in Caood," Mister Wolf answered, scratching at his short, white beard "We've got a long way to go, and I don't want to have to worry about a horse foundering underthe way It's a lot better to take a little time now than to lose more time later"