You know the drill by now. Or at least I hope so. Onwards!

Zakath was staring at him.

"Wouldn't that look grotesque?" Garion said wryly. "Belgarion running from horizon to horizon across the night sky?"

"You know something, Garion," Zakath said. "I've always believed that someday you and I would go to war with each other. Would you be terribly disappointed if I decided not to show up?"

"I think I could bear it." Garion grinned at him. "If nothing else, I could always start without you. You could drop by from time to time to see how things were going. Ce'nedra can fix you supper. Of course, she's not a very good cook, but we all have to make a few sacrifices, don't we?"

They looked at each other for a moment and then burst out laughing. The process that had begun at Rak Urga with the quixotic Urgit was now complete. Garion realized with a certain amount of satisfaction that he had finished cementing the relationship between himself and Zakath and thus, hopefully, between Angarak and Alorn. He laughed out loud again as another thought occurred to him. "You know," he snorted, "I bet the orb could even make someone a sorcerer. The Will and the Word are latent in all people, or so Grandfather told me. I wonder if the orb could awaken someone's potential?"

"Garion," Zakath said with a pained expression, "You just got done telling me that your irritating little friend there could spell your name out in stars if it wanted too. Please, please don't give it any more ideas."

Garion laughed, "You're probably right."

"Of course I am right. I'm the Emperor."

"Oh. I see."

"What?"

"Always right, huh? Then what about all that blustering about how we were going back to Mal Zeth witth you, hmm?" Garion said with a teasing smile.

"That was a momentary lapse in judgement." Zakath waked a hand and then his eyes narrowed. "You still haven't given me a proper aapology for that, you know."

"Saying I'm sorry wasn't enough?"

"No. I don't think so." He eyed Garion hungrily. "Why don't we adjourn to someplace outside the city? I wouldn't want anyone to hear you scream."

Garion swallowed. "Lead on."

They casually meandered their way out of the city and then walked for another half hour or so to get beyond shouting distance. Garion stopped and leaned against a tree. "I think we're far enough out. How did you want me to apologize then?"

Zakath eyed him up and down with a very suggestive expression. Garion felt the blush creeping up his neck when Zakath's gaze settled on his groin. "Oh, I'm sure you could think of something."

Garion took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. With a grunt, he pushed himself off of the tree and pulled Zakath into his arms. He bent slightly to press his lips to the other man's slowly backing them towards a different tree trunk.

Zakath was so wrapped up in thee kiss that he didn't realize what the larger man was doing until he was pressed against a tree, Garion's knee wedging in between his legs. He wiggled, experimentally.

Garion felt the wiggle and pressed on the other man a little harder and then took hold of Zakath's arms and pinned them up above the Angarak's head. He pulled back and spoke one word, releasing his will slowly so as to make very little noise. "Hold," he growled and the wood moved sluggishly until it had wrapped itself around the Emperor's ankles and wrists, binding him tightly to the trunk.

Zakath's eyes flew open in a panic. "Garion, what-?" he was cut off by another kiss. Garion's lips moved from his mouth to his ears and finally the Rivan began nibbling on his neck and he felt his knees wobble.

"I don't want you to move," the bigger man grinned, "You always take the lead and I thik it's my turn for a change. As an apology."

Garion dropped to his knees then and peered up at Zakath through the fringe of his bangs. Zakath couldn't resist that look and tried to arch his hips, but the tree held him steady. Garion, ever so slowly, peeled Zakath's breeches down and began his apology in earnest.

It took Garion quite a while to deliver the full apology, but Zakath was more than willing to give him all the time he needed. When they were done, however, it was time to head back to Kell, and get back to gathering information about the city and where they could find Cyradis.

They eventually found their way to the place of the seers and Belgarath got his hands on the book and discovered that they must journey to a place called "Korim" which is no more. They started out for an island called Perivor to get final instruction. Garion has just recovered his wife after she performed her TASK to reveal this information to Zandramas.

They reached the edge of the forest about sunset and set up for the night there. Garion rather studiously avoided Zakath, not trusting himself to be civil to his friend after he had jumped to the defense of the blindfolded Seeress. Zakath and Cyradis had engaged in a lengthy conversation before they had left Kell, and now the Emperor seemed wholly commited to her cause. His eyes were sometimes troubled, though, and he frequently turned in his saddle to look at her.

That night, however, when they were both on watch, it was no longer possible for Garion to avoid his friend.

"Don't be angry with me, Garion," he said softly attempting to light a small fire.

"I'm not. I'm more irritated than anything. I'm sorry I lashed out at you. I just hate people who mess with the heads of people I love." He gave a lopsided sort of grin. "You're included in that now, you know."

"I know," Zakath dropped his flint with a muttered oath. "This is ridiculous. I am an Emperor! I'm not going to let a fire beat me." He tried again and again before becoming completely frustrated. "Oh, light, damn you!"

Garion felt a surge and a noise like a gong going off and the small fire burst into flame. Garion stared at Zakath. Zakath stared at the fire. "Wh… what?"

"You.."

"Garion!" Belgarath's voice came sharply from behind them, "What happened? What on earth made you decide to light the fire with your Will?" He demanded coming to stand beside the two men.

"I didn't do it, Grandfather. Zakath did."

"What?"

"Garion," Zakath groaned, "Do you remember what you said about that annoying blue stone of yours?"

"That it could spell my name in the stars or even… Oh no." he took the orb from the pommel of his sword and fixed it with a glare. "What did you do?" The orb merely sang gleefully at him.

"Not my fault, Grandfather." He said with an apologetic smile.

"It damn well is." Belgarath muttered. "Fine. He's one of us now? You're in charge of him. Teach him what to do and what not to do and keep his world conquest delusions firmly out of the picture."

"I don't have those, anymore." Zakath murmured, staring at his hands.

The quiet voice of Cyradis spoke in the night, "Belgarion, he will not be your responsibility for many years yet. That is part of my Task." She said firmly. "As we must all go our separate ways eventually. I will see to it that he does not set out to take the world for his own."

"I don't even want the world anymore," Zakath muttered. "I know what I want and I will wait patiently for it to come to me."

"Then you are beginning to learn wisdom, Kal Zakath," she smiled at him, "You will have many years to cultivate that wisdom." And with that mysterious piece of advice, she let Toth lead her to her tent while Garion and Zakath stared in bewilderment at each other.