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"Never." Taiba's look was incredulous. Her life had been spent almost entirely in darkness, and she had never learned to keep her emotions from showing on her face. Amazement gave way to humiliation, and her expression settled then into a kind of stiff, sullen pout as she turned quickly away from the man who had just so harshly rejected her. The cloak slipped from her shoulders as she turned, and the few rags she had for clothing scarcely concealed her nakedness. Despite her tangled hair and the dirty smudges on her limbs, there was a lush, inviting ripeness about her. Relg stared at her and he began to tremble. Then he quickly turned, moved as far away from her as possible, and dropped to his knees, praying desperately and pressing his face against the rocky floor of the cave.
    "Is he all right?" Taiba asked quickly.
    "He's got some problems," Barak replied. "You'll get used to it."
    "Taiba," Polgara said. "Come over here." She looked critically at the woman's scanty clothing. "We're going to have to get something together for you to wear. It's very cold outside. There are other reasons too, it appears."
    "I'll see what I can find in the packs," Durnik offered. "we'll need something for the boy too, I think. That smock of his doesn't look any too warm." He looked over at the child, who was curiously examining the horses.
    "You won't need to bother about me," Taiba told them. "There's nothing out there for me. As soon as you leave, I'm going back to Rak Cthol."
    "What are you talking about?" Polgara asked her sharply.
    "I still have something to settle with Ctuchik," Taiba replied, fingering her rusty knife.
    Silk laughed from the cave mouth. "We took care of that for you. Rak Cthol's falling to pieces up there, and there isn't enough left of Ctuchik to make a smudge on the floor."
    "Dead?" she gasped. "How?"
    "You wouldn't believe it," Silk told her.
    "Did he suffer?" She said it with a ternble eagerness.
    "More than you could ever imagine," Polgara replied.
    Taiba drew in a long, shuddering breath, and then she began to cry. Aunt Pol opened her arms and took the sobbing woman into them, comforting her even as she had comforted Garion so often when he was small.
    Garion sank wearily to the floor, resting his back against the rocky wall of the cave. Waves of exhaustion washed over him, and a great lassitude drained him of all consciously directed thought. Once again the Orb sang to him, but lulling now. Its curiosity about him apparently was satisfied, and its song seemed to be there only to maintain the contact between them. Garion was too tired even to be curious about why the stone took such pleasure in his company.
    The little boy turned from his curious examination of the horses and went to where Taiba sat with one of Aunt Pol's arms about her shoulders. He looked puzzled, and reached out with one hand to touch his fingers to her tear-streaked face.
    "What does he want?" Taiba asked.
    "He's probably never seen tears before," Aunt Pol replied.
    Taiba stared at the child's serious little face, then suddenly laughed through her tears and gave him a quick embrace.
    The little boy smiled then. "Errand?" he asked, offering her the Orb. "Don't take it, Taiba," Polgara told her very quietly. "Don't even touch it."
    Taiba looked at the smiling child and shook her head.
    The little boy sighed, then came across the cave, sat down beside Garion, and nestled against him.
    Barak had gone a short distance back up the passageway they had followed; now he returned, his face grim. "I can hear Murgos moving around up there," the big man reported. "You can't tell how far away they are with all the echoes in these caves, but it sounds as if they're exploring every cave and passageway."
    "Let us find some defensible spot then, my Lord, and give them reason to look for us elsewhere," Mandorallen suggested gaily.
    "Interesting notion," Barak replied, "but I'm afraid it wouldn't work. Sooner or later they're going to find us."
    "I'll take care of