A tremendous fist of water flung great chunks of gutrock downward. From the breach, an immured sea began to fall in a staggering crash like all of the Land’s waterfalls joined into one. Thunder filled the air like the ravage of worlds. An avalanche of forgotten waters slammed down onto the skurj; pounded against the hideous bulk of the bane.

The tumult drew weight from other caverns above it. Scalding steam erupted from the impact of waters on Kastenessen’s monsters; but instantly those bursts were swept away by the torrential plunge. The bane tried to lurch aside, and failed. The plummet of water bore Her down, dragged Her under.

Groaning in granite agony, Gravin Threndor emptied its deep guts as though a firmament of water had been torn open.

Coldspray roared warnings which no one could hear. Other Giants yelled soundlessly, as if they had been stricken dumb. Jeremiah appeared to howl, uttering the croyel’s inaudible dismay.

Spray acrid with minerals drenched the company. It bit into Linden’s sight. She could not blink fast enough to clear her eyes. Dropping the Staff, she scrubbed at her face with both hands; slapped her neck and chest and legs.

Before the mountain’s tremors shrugged the Staff out of reach, Liand stooped to catch it.

Abruptly the ledge shook. It began to sheer away.

Esmer stopped it. The force which he had used on other occasions to raise spouts like geysers from the ground, he exerted now to stabilize the stone. A shudder ran along the steep shelf; but the ledge held.

Water hammered into the cavern, poured like a tsunami down the slow slope. Already it had immersed the bane and the skurj. Lurid fires and violence lit its mounting depths as the monsters fought to survive; as the bane strove for purchase among the inundated stalagmites. Shivering feverishly, Linden feared that the skurj would survive. Buried in floods, their fangs flamed as if they chewed minerals from the water to feed their furnace-hearts. Fighting for life, they tumbled down the cavern.

Whatever happened to them, Linden could not imagine that a power as enduring and virulent as She Who Must Not Be Named would simply drown. Nevertheless she wiped her eyes, and slapped herself, and prayed—

Betimes some wonder is wrought to redeem us.

Even if the bane failed to gather Herself and return, Linden and all of her companions would soon perish. The vast rush of water smashed against the lower end of the cavern. Then it boiled and frothed back onto itself. And as it accumulated, it rose. Scores or hundreds of centuries of the Land’s springs and rainfall would fill the space until every gasp of air had been forced out.

In the distance, fires still burned under the flood. Crimson streaks stained the water: the skurj or the bane, Linden could not tell which.