“Permit me.” With his apparel, the Ardent reached out to take Linden from Pahni and Bhapa. “Though I have entirely failed to demonstrate my worth, the time draws nigh when I will do so.” Carefully he bore her to the wall and set her down to rest against the nitid rock. “Her distress is extreme, but it will pass. It is the Stonedownor’s pain which wracks her. She has suffered no tangible wound.”

When he had settled Linden, he commanded, “Restore the Staff of Law to her arms. Mayhap its touch will ease her.”

Bhapa obeyed without hesitation. Soon Linden felt the warm wood against her chest. But she was immersed in agony and could not call upon the Staff’s benign theurgy.

Moaning, Liand began to stir in Stonemage’s arms. Pahni cried his name softly as he tried to lift his head.

“My hands.” Covenant’s voice cracked in dismay. “I need my hands. Hell and blood. I have to be able to hold the krill.”

Then he groaned, “Oh, Linden. What have you done to yourself? You shouldn’t—I was trying to help. I didn’t want this to happen.”

I must have the Wildwielder’s heed.

Linden heard nothing, saw nothing. The glow of the walls had been effaced. Darkness filled the world: darkness and defeat. They fulfilled all of Esmer’s predictions.

How had Liand borne this? Unconsciousness had been his only solace, but it was denied to her. She had no defense except the dark, and it was not enough.

Then a voice pierced her hurt. At her ear, someone who may have been Stave said firmly, “Drink, Chosen.” She felt cold iron press against her lips. Somewhere in the darkness, she smelled vitrim. “The Waynhim offer succor. Already the ur-viles tend to the Unbeliever’s hands. If they cannot restore his flesh, they will ease his suffering. And I also will accept their balm, though you have diminished my need. You must drink.”

Like the barking of ghouls, Jeremiah began to laugh.

The sound transformed the blades in Linden’s head. Without transition, they became an altogether different kind of wound.

Her son could not laugh. He could not. She knew that. With the Power of Command, she had exposed the truth of his possession. The croyel was laughing through him; using her son’s lungs and throat and mouth to express its malice.

“So here you are, Mom.” Contempt and fear throbbed in his voice. They cut at her like the daggers of Liand’s transferred trauma. “Do you like what you’ve accomplished so far? You won’t be able to keep me long. That bane’s going to eat you alive, but she won’t touch me. She won’t like the taste. And Roger will come for me soon.