Second, I crave the circle of white gold which lies hidden by your raiment.

Wild magic. The crux and keystone of the Arch of Time. It was the essence of Thomas Covenant’s spirit reified in a fundamentally flawed and flawless alloy: his wedding band, the symbol and manifestation of his transcendent humanity.

And last, I covet the unfettered wrath at the center of your heart. It will nourish me as the Demondim did not.

Linden had not understood him then: she did now. He was referring to the legacy of Gallows Howe. He wanted her granite ire, her emotional extravagance, to help him impose his will on Jeremiah and the croyel. But the Mahdoubt had prevented him from claiming Linden. Finally she knew why. She knew, as the Harrow did not, that there was more to Gallows Howe than rage and slaughter, death and retribution.

Why else had the Forestal of Garroting Deep asked her a question that she did not know how to answer?

Because of the Mahdoubt’s sacrifice, Linden could offer herself to the Harrow without fearing his power to consume her. When he had guided her to Jeremiah and the croyel, she would still be able to fight for her son.

Somehow.

Nodding in the direction of the Harrow, she tried to answer the expectant silence of her companions.

“I should go.” To herself, she sounded vague and faint, as tenuous as a figure in a dream. “Opening that portal takes something more than Earthpower and Law. That’s why the Harrow didn’t just want my Staff and Covenant’s ring. He wanted me.

“The ur-viles and Waynhim could help us, but they aren’t here. They couldn’t have brought us here. The Ardent says that there’s nothing he can do. And I’ve at least met the Viles.” You serve a purpose not your own, and have no purpose. “That’s more than the Harrow can say. They were long gone before he started to study them. Everything he knows is based on inferences.

“I should try to help him before he makes a mistake and kills us.”

She was still watching Covenant, hoping that he would hear her and respond. After a moment, however, she forced herself to look around at her friends. Facing Liand, and then Mahrtiir and his Cords, and then the Giants, she added, “Unless you have a better idea.”

Liand could not conceal his anxiety, and did not try. Holding up the light of the orcrest seemed to take most of his strength. The Manethrall bowed his head as if he sought to veil his consternation; his weakness. Pahni clung to Liand’s free arm, hid her face against his shoulder for comfort. Bhapa swallowed several times, opened and closed his mouth, apparently trying to find words for his chagrin. Then he glanced helplessly around him and gave up.