‘Is there another crisis afoot?’ the Gorim asked.

‘Isn’t there always?’ father said sourly. “This one’s a bit more serious, though.’

‘Let’s go inside,’ Gorim suggested. ‘If the world’s coming to an end, maybe I’d better be sitting down when you tell me about it.’

I took to the Gorim of Ulgo immediately. He was a kindly old man with an understated sense of humor. He didn’t laugh very much when father told him that Torak had come out of Ashaba and led his Malloreans across the land-bridge, however. ‘This is troubling, Belgarath,’ he said with a frown.

‘Truly,’ father agreed. ‘May I speak bluntly?’

‘Of course.’

‘The people of Ulgo aren’t warriors, and they’re not accustomed to the world above. If nothing else, sunlight would probably be blinding to them – if the sun ever comes out again.’

‘I didn’t exactly follow that, Belgarath.’

‘There was a change in the weather after Torak’s Eclipse,’ father explained. ‘It’s been raining more or less continually for the past fifteen or so years.’

‘Did we anticipate that?’

‘We probably should have. Our prophecies mention the rain, but we thought they were talking about some passing rain squall, not a semi-permanent climate change. Sometimes I get a little cross about being tampered with. Everything’s written down in the Darine and the Mrin, but I’m not permitted to understand what I’m reading until that overly-clever Necessity’s jolly-well ready to have me understand it. I honestly believe he thinks he’s funny.’

Gorim smiled faintly. ‘Now, there’s a concept we might want to investigate,’ he said.

‘I’d rather not,’ father said in a grumpy voice. ‘I don’t want to come to grips with the idea that the Universe is some vast, obscure joke.’ He shook his head. ‘What happened in Drasnia’s a fair indication that we’re looking at a very messy war, Gorim. Your people are devout, and the violence that’s staring us in the face isn’t the kind of thing they’re equipped to deal with. The Alorns, Tolnedrans, and Arends are built for this kind of thing, so why don’t we just let them deal with it? We’ll keep you advised, and when Torak starts moving his army across Ulgoland, we’ll give you enough warning so that you can seal up the mouths of your caves and leave the Angaraks to the Algroths, Hrulgin, and Eldrakyn.’

‘I shall consult with Holy UL,’ Gorim said. “The circumstances might prompt him to set aside his distaste for violence.’

‘That’s entirely up to him, Gorim,’ father said. ‘I’ve done many foolish things in my life, but trying to tell UL what to do isn’t going to be one of them.’

Our conversation became general after that, and the Gorim’s servants brought us supper. Ulgo cooking is slightly bland, but I kept my opinion about that to myself. I wasn’t entirely certain whether or not the Ulgos might have religious objections to herbs and spices.

After we’d eaten, father and the Gorim talked for a while, and then the Old Wolf and I were provided with rooms where we could sleep. I was just drifting off when mother’s voice came to me. ‘Welcome to Ulgo, Pol,’ she said.

‘You sound like a resident, mother.’

‘Naturally,’ she said. ‘Where else did you think I was?’

‘I didn’t really think about it. I suppose I thought you were everywhere.’

‘These are caves, Pol, and a cave’s very much like a den, wouldn’t you say?’

‘I hadn’t thought of that, I guess.’

‘Obviously. Holy UL wants to speak with us. Come along. I’ll guide you.’

I rose and dressed, and then I quietly left the Gorim’s house. Mother’s voice led me through the labyrinthine maze of galleries out to the edge of that underground city. The passageways we entered there showed fewer and fewer signs of human modification, and after I’d squeezed my way through a narrow embrasure, the rubble littering the uneven floor was a fair indication that we were in unexplored territory.

Then, just as I rounded a sharp turn, the sense of mother’s presence in my mind was suddenly gone – or more accurately, it had moved. Mother was just ahead of me, and now she was really there. The Ulgos light their subterranean world by mixing two chemicals that then give off a phosphorescent kind of glow. In this as yet unexplored gallery, the walls themselves glowed. That may have also been some chemical reaction, but I rather doubt it.

Tawny-haired and golden-eyed, mother sat quite calmly on a simple three-legged stool in a neat little room that contained a bed, a table and a small cooking stove. The walls were unfinished, and mother’s cooking utensils and dishes were neatly stacked on a ledge behind the stove. To put it succinctly, this was not a room; it was a den.

Mother rose to her feet and held out her arms to me, and I literally flew to embrace her. We clung to each other for quite some time, and I’ll admit that I cried. Then she gently sat me at her small, rough table and made tea for us.

‘You said that UL wanted to speak with us, mother,’ I reminded her as we sat facing each other with our hands intertwined on the table-top.

‘He’s giving us a bit of time to get used to each other, Pol. UL has an exquisite sense of propriety, so he’s giving us this private time. How’s he been?’ Mother almost never used father’s name when speaking of him.

‘Father never changes, mother. You should know that.’

‘We can always hope.’ Then she laughed, and mother very seldom laughs. ‘And Beldin and the twins?’

‘They’re still the same too. We’re a very strange family, you know. We exist outside of time, so we don’t change just because a few thousand years have passed.’

‘You’re going to change just a little rather soon.’

‘Oh?’

‘You and I are going to become very close.’

‘You’re being cryptic, mother.’

‘It’s the way of wolves to be cryptic.’

Then one of the walls of mother’s den began to glow with a soft, filmy light, and the Father of the Gods stepped out of the solid rock. I’d see him before, of course – when Beldaran had died and he’d come for her – but I’d been so distraught that I’d never been positive that he’d really been there. His presence filled me with awe. He looked very much like our Master, old and white bearded, but he seemed more robust – even muscular.