Somewhere beyond the Ramen, the creatures had found a ledge in the wall of the cavern. From high above and behind the company, a shelf angled down to meet the floor. The Waynhim and ur-viles had already begun to scamper upward. To Linden, the ledge looked dangerously narrow, but it must have been wider than it appeared. When the creatures had ascended to three or four times the height of a Giant, they stopped. There the Waynhim were able to gather in a tight cluster. The ur-viles had room to form a fighting wedge.

They gestured like deranged things at the company. The tumult of their barking matched the bane’s fury, the ravening of the skurj.

The Ramen did not hesitate. With Anele, they reached the ledge and climbed. A moment later, the Humbled impelled Covenant to follow. Limping heavily, the Ardent went after them.

At the foot of the ledge, Esmer paused to wait for Linden, Stave, and Liand. The rampage of fires behind the company echoed like madness in his eyes.

Linden understood nothing. The ledge ran back in the direction of the bane and the skurj. Its elevation would be a trivial obstacle to Kastenessen’s monsters—and no obstacle at all to She Who Must Not Be Named. Nevertheless Stave and Liand manhandled her grimly toward Esmer. When he moved to join the rest of the company, they hurried at his back.

Now she could see the bane and the skurj. She could not look away. Trailing clouds of steam, the creatures flowed like molten stone among the pillars. Expanding, the bane had grown large enough to scatter stalagmites, break off stalactites. She seemed to roll as She advanced, a world of pain presenting new faces and teeth and screams at every moment.

Her raw force made Her appear closer than She was; closer than the monsters. Clinging to mere shreds of sanity, Linden strained to gauge the true distance.

The bane and the skurj were still at least a long stone’s throw away. But the bane approached more slowly, savoring the helplessness of Her prey.

All of the Giants would have time to ascend the ledge, reach the place where the Demondim-spawn had halted. They would be able to anticipate and dread the moment when they would be torn apart.

Linden thought that she would rather fling herself into the jaws of the skurj. Their blazing fangs would spare her every other hurt. She did not want to participate in the bane’s immortal pain.

Coldspray would protect Jeremiah as long as she could. Soon, however, they would both be slain.

Surely the croyel would die as well? Even if the bane had no taste for such food, the skurj were incapable of thought or scruples: they would eat anything.