She stood defenseless a few paces in front of him. His ring and her Staff had fallen from her stricken fingers. In the silver glare of the krill, the traced stains on her jeans looked as black as accusations. The red flannel of her shirt was snagged and torn as though she had made her way to him through a wilderness of thorns. She seemed empty of resolve or hope, fundamentally beaten, as if he had betrayed her.

The sight of her, unconsoled and inconsolable, magnified the stresses which damaged him. But it also anchored him to his mortality. The fault of her plight was his. He had ignored too much of the Law which had bound and preserved him.

Moments or lifetimes ago, he had said, Oh, Linden. What have you done?—but not in horror. Rather she had filled him with awe. He had loved her across the entire span of the Arch of Time, and she had become capable of deciding the outcome of worlds.

Done, Timewarden? Infelice had answered. She has roused the Worm of the World’s End. But he cared nothing for Infelice herself: only the fate of her people concerned him.—every Elohim will be devoured. Involuntarily he was remembering his own sins. They seemed more real than the people or beings around him.

Trust yourself, he had told Linden when he should not have spoken to her at all, not under any circumstance. He had said, You need the Staff of Law, and Do something they don’t expect. He had even addressed her friends through Anele, although their names and exigencies were lost among the cracks of his sentience. And he had pleaded with her to find him—

Defying every necessity that sustained the Earth and the Land, he had pointed her toward the ineffable catastrophe of his resurrection.

Still he could not grasp what Linden’s companions were doing. He had not known an illucid instant since his passing; but now people were in motion for reasons which bewildered him.

Shouting, “Desecrator!” one of the Haruchai rushed to strike her. A single blow of his fist would crush her skull. But another Haruchai, the man who had lost an eye, opposed her attacker; flung him away in a flurry of strikes and counters.

The two remaining Haruchai also charged at Linden. One stumbled under an onslaught of Ramen. Aided by the Stonedownor, the three Ramen kept that Haruchai from his target. And his kinsman was impeded by Ranyhyn. A roan stallion kicked the man in the chest; sent him sprawling backward.

“Yes!” Kevin Landwaster shouted. “Slay her! She merits death!”

But Berek Halfhand’s great voice answered, “Hold! Restrain yourselves, Haruchai! Matters beyond your comprehension lie between the Timewarden and the Chosen. You have no part in them!”

“This night is sacred,” added Damelon Giantfriend more quietly. “Your strife is unseemly. Beings mightier than you would not contend here.”

Elena may have been weeping. Caer-Caveral stood apart from her, distancing himself from her distress.

Perhaps out of respect for the Lords, or perhaps for some reason of their own, the Haruchai ceased their struggles.