An instant later, he scowled again. “No, wait. You didn’t hit me. That was amanibhavam . I remember the smell. And Morinmoss.” Still rubbing his head, he muttered, “I must have done this to myself.”

After her first rush of relief, Linden told herself that she should not have been surprised. On other occasions, she had seen amanibhavam work its wonders. Among the Land’s many blessings, the grass was just one more. The only surprise was that Mahrtiir’s garland retained so much potency.

“I’m glad, too.” Like Covenant, she tried to smile. But she could not. Just don’t touch me. “I don’t enjoy hitting you.” She meant, I need you. Please help me. “And holding you under water feels like overkill.”

She meant, Please love me. In spite of everything.

Covenant’s mouth twisted: a grimace of wry humor. Mutely he extended a hand to Stave. When the Haruchai pulled him to his feet, he said, “We have a lot to talk about.” Then he glanced at the waiting food. “But maybe we should eat first. I can’t believe I’m already hungry again.”

A moment later, he rested a hand on Mahrtiir’s shoulder. “Thank you, Manethrall. I don’t think any of us would survive if Linden didn’t have friends like you.”

The Manethrall responded with a Ramen bow. His bandage concealed his expression, but his aura revealed a fierce glimmer of accomplishment.

As Covenant and then Linden turned to the rest of the company, she saw that all of the Giants were grinning broadly. Several of them chuckled, shaking their heads. And Rime Coldspray acknowledged Covenant and Linden with a sweeping gesture like a flourish, welcoming them to the Insequent’s provisions.

“It is now,” said the Ironhand with muffled humor, “as it has been since we first encountered Linden Giantfriend in Salva Gildenbourne. The brevity of your tales tests our hearing. ‘Overkill,’ forsooth. We must greet such utterances with amusement. When entire lives are thus compressed, their significance named in one mere word—” Clearly she found the notion risible. “Ah, my friends, we must respond with mirth. How otherwise can we suffer your cruelty to yourselves?

“Sadly,” she continued, striving to sound grave, “we have grown accustomed to the haste of folk who measure their span in decades rather than in centuries. Also an intimate acquaintance with peril in many guises has taught us that upon occasions such as the sinking of dromonds and the destruction of worlds, we must accommodate the vagaries of circumstance.”

Around her, Giants chuckled again, and Frostheart Grueburn laughed outright. Apparently they heard a jest in the idea that they were familiar with the destruction of worlds.