Plunging face-first into the Upper Land’s runoff, he drank. To his parched nerves, the water tasted as pure as rain. It felt like bliss.

Let me help you on your way.

When he needed air, he found the sand and stone of the streambed, pushed himself upright. Anointed with relief, he gasped words that made no sense. They may have been promises or prophecies—or castigations. Splashing in the current, he scrubbed at his arms, his face, his hair; washed away as much strain as he could.

A proper push will take you far—

Then he ducked his head and drank again. The Land’s rich blessings had found him even here.

But what a clumsy lad you are!

Water was the answer. It was. He did not understand it, but he was sure.

Finally he raised his head, wiped streams from his eyes, and took stock of the company.

As far as he could tell, Liand and most of the Giants had already swallowed their fill. Branl had assumed the Cords’ watch so that they could rejoin their Manethrall. Now Galesend accepted Anele from Coldspray, freeing the Ironhand to drink again. With flasks empty of diamondraught, Halewhole Bluntfist supplied Anele while Latebirth tilted Jeremiah’s head back and poured water into his slack mouth. In spite of his dissociation, Jeremiah gulped eagerly. When Latebirth refilled her vessel, he drained it again. Clearly the croyel’s magicks did not meet all of his body’s needs.

Of course, Covenant thought as he studied the boy. Why else had Jeremiah required the attendance of the skest? The croyel’s power to keep him alive had limits.

Finally Covenant turned his attention to Linden.

She still hung, dream-ridden and whimpering, in the cradle of Stave’s arms. Near the water’s edge, the former Master stood as if he were prepared to bear the cost of her mortality until the end of Time. But his fidelity would not save her: Covenant was sure of that. Like her son, she would remain lost within herself until someone or something intervened.

That was Covenant’s task. He could not ask anyone else to attempt it for him. He was alive because of her.

If he did not act soon, her nightmares might claim her permanently.

Sodden and dripping, he sloshed out of the stream. Strange that he was still weak. He had forgotten too much about being human—His flesh needed time to recover from its ordeals. It trembled for rest and food.

But he did not believe that Linden could afford to wait.

Facing Stave with water in his eyes, he said, “Let me take her.”

The Haruchai cocked an eyebrow. “Ur-Lord?”

Quickly Rime Coldspray stepped forward. “Is this wise? What is your intent, Covenant Timewarden?”

Clyme drew closer. He may have thought that Covenant wanted or needed his support.