Wolf Disclaimer: Everything here (except the plot, I think) is property of David and Leigh Eddings.

A/N: D and L left us on somewhat of a cliff-hanger at the end of Polgara the Sorceress. Wolf. . . now who could that rapscallion be?


I nuzzle into Geran as he sleeps. Ce'Nedra, sly Dryad, has almost figured it out, I think. Dryads are better at sensing things.

I don't pretend to be an expert at this. Even Aunt Pol hasn't figured it out yet and I knew her best of all. Polgara suspects, of course, but I don't think she believes in it and neither does Belgarath. They're funny like that. If it's not written down, if they haven't seen it, if someone they know hasn't seen it, then how can it possibly exist? They're more Tolnedran than they like to admit.

In my former life, I was a bit of a novice. Never thought I'd be standing on the Battlements of Riva with Garion's son.

When I was born, I knew I was different from all the other wolves in the pack. When my mother, father, sisters and brothers all got struck down with famine, I wasn't in particularly upset or grief-stricken. As far as I was concerned, I was not their son. They raised me, but they had other children and I was merely a shadow of a wolf. A wolf with human ideas. I woke up, not with the unformed mind of an infant but the mind of a human adult.

I was no wolf, so hunting was fruitless. Then Poledra came. I remember her, stalking out of the woods with a look of purpose on her face. She took one look at me and said: "My son, come with me,"

And that was that. She filled me in on the things I missed since I, shall we say, departed. I was overjoyed at the thought of Garion married and with a son.

Garion. I had barely two hours with him in my former body.

Reincarnation, Poledra told me, was not common but not totally unheard of. I had been chosen to come back after the Child of Dark's unfair play. I had reacted a bit indignantly at that, saying that my death and Ildera's were not 'unfair play'.

But my son grew up happy and healthy on a Sendarian's farm. He did not miss his mother or me too much, as he didn't know us.

And now I had Geran to protect. My grandson named after me and I named after the brave little boy who tried to escape from the Nyissans all those years ago.

I will protect the Rivian Line, just like Polgara did with me, until I am bone weary. Perhaps one day, they'll figure it out. Ce'Nedra came very close.

One day they'll know that I, Wolf, am Geran, Father of the King of Riva.

The End