“If you desire to flee your doom,” said Esmer sternly, “you must cross the Hazard and discover some passage upward. Here you must perish. There is no escape from the Lost Deep.

“Behold!” He indicated the ur-viles with a dismissive flip of his hand. “Even now, they implore you to follow them.”

“The mere-son speaks sooth.” The Ardent trembled, anticipating terror. “I am defeated, blocked from use and name and life. This, too, is added to the sum of my failures. The knowledge and purposes of the Insequent are made naught by the mere-son’s presence. I am an empty vessel awaiting only the fulfillment of death.”

“Linden Giantfriend!” Coldspray demanded. Her fists clenched combatively. “What is your will?”

“Chosen,” Stave urged before Linden could find her voice. “We must make the attempt. If we do not, we grant to Corruption a triumph which he has not yet won.”

With an effort of will that seemed to tear her heart, Linden wrenched her gaze away from Covenant. Instinctively, however, she avoided Stave’s steady stare and Coldspray’s tension. Instead she looked at Mahrtiir as if only his blindness could counsel her.

Attempts must be made, even when there can be no hope. The Manethrall had told her that. And betimes some wonder is wrought to redeem us.

Even the loss of his eyes had not destroyed his spirit.

Against innumerable obstacles, Linden had found her son. Now she needed to save him. Somehow.

She was breaking; drowning in defeats. She felt it. But she also knew that Mahrtiir was right. Long ago, Covenant had taught her the same lesson.

Braced in Frostheart Grueburn’s arms, she drew more light and health-sense from the Staff. Then she forced herself to meet the Ironhand’s gaze.

“Run,” she breathed. “I trust the ur-viles. I trust the Waynhim. They want to lead us. Let’s go.”

Her company had to get past the Hazard before She Who Must Not Be Named rose high enough to strike—and the portal of the Lost Deep was a considerable distance away.

Without hesitation, Rime Coldspray shouted, “Swordmainnir!” and at once, Latebirth wheeled to carry Mahrtiir into the passage taken by the Waynhim. Onyx Stonemage followed immediately with Liand. Goaded by dread, the Ardent went next, supporting himself in a flurry of cloth that filled the corridor because he could not run fast enough. Grueburn crowded close behind the Insequent: Stave trotted at Linden’s side. Carrying Covenant, Cirrus Kindwind hurried after Grueburn, guarded by Clyme and Branl. As Linden was rushed into the tunnel, she felt the other Giants gather with their burdens. At the rear of the company, Galt pushed Jeremiah and the croyel into motion. Coldspray stayed with them to ensure that they did not lag—and that Galt did not lose control of Jeremiah’s possessor.

Among them all dashed the ur-viles, barking encouragement or warnings. Without apparent effort, Esmer kept pace with the Ardent and Grueburn.