Galvanized by vitrim, Linden was finally able to estimate her own condition. Percipience informed her that the strength which she had received was not enough. It restored only a small portion of her resources—and it would not last long. The proximity of the bane sucked at her ability to wield Earthpower. She might manage one final blast of fire. But her poor vehemence would not harm She Who Must Not Be Named—and would have no impact at all on the skurj.

Soon those evils would be close enough to attack.

Still the ur-viles chattered and yelled, demanding—

—demanding something that Linden could not identify.

“Linden!” Liand shouted at her. “You must act! No other power will suffice! I cannot comprehend the ur-viles!”

His Sunstone had become meaningless. Mere swords and muscle had no value. The Ironhand might conceivably strike one effective blow with Loric’s krill. Then she would be lost—and the croyel would escape with Jeremiah.

Now or never. Esmer had deprived the Giants of their ability to grasp what the ur-viles wanted.

Already Linden felt vitrim turning to ash in her veins.

“God damn it, Esmer.” She could not spare the strength to raise her voice. “You’ve done more than enough harm. The least you can do is translate.”

Cail’s son studied her with shame like crimson spume in his eyes. Disdain and anguish buffeted each other across his visage. His wounds wept unassuaged blood.

Renewed nausea twisted through Linden’s guts; but she did not look away. With her ruined gaze, she commanded Esmer to consider the cost of his betrayals.

A spasm of revulsion knotted his features. In disgust, he announced harshly, “The ur-viles desire you to recognize that the waters falling here must have a source. Doubtless you”—his tone said, Even you—“are aware that the Soulsease pours the greater portion of the Upper Land’s streams and rivers into the depths of Gravin Threndor. Later those same torrents emerge, besmirched, as the Defiles Course. But have you never contemplated the path of that vast weight of water during its millennia within the bowels of the mountain? The ur-viles assure you that the Soulsease plunges deep among the Wightwarrens, and still deeper, until it has passed beyond the knowledge of all but the Viles and their makings. There it gathers in lakes and chasms, filling utter darkness until it rises at last to its egress on the Lower Land.”

Esmer glanced upward. “The ur-viles proclaim that they have discerned a point of weakness in the high stone of this tomb.”

Then he clamped his mouth shut, biting down hard on his own misery.