Ah, God. Trying to understand, Linden asked, “Do you know how Covenant did it? What did he say that convinced Esmer to leave?”

Stave hesitated momentarily. “I am uncertain, Chosen,” he admitted. “The Unbeliever spoke of the peril to Kastenessen if the bane obtained possession of white gold. Yet the degree to which Esmer heeded him was unclear. Rather Esmer appeared to expect that some other powers or beings would balance the scales of aid and betrayal on his behalf. He averred, ‘I cannot comprehend why you have not been redeemed. I have given those who wish to serve you ample opportunity. Yet I am spurned.’ Also he said in protest, ‘You are indeed betrayed, but not by me.’ The import of his words, however—” The Haruchai shrugged.

—those who wish to serve you—Linden groped for meaning, and found none. Surely every possible friend and ally had been present while the bane loomed? She did not count the Ranyhyn. They could not have accompanied her into the Lost Deep.

Then who—? “Oh, hell,” she muttered. Not the Elohim: that was out of the question. “I don’t get it. And I am tired to death of people who seem to think that being cryptic is their life’s work.” Even Covenant on occasion. “Just once, I want to meet someone who calls a spade a damn shovel.”

Stave could have made a claim for the Haruchai; but he surprised her by saying, “The Demondim-spawn do so. That we cannot comprehend their speech is a lack in us, not in them. It is not their intent to thwart understanding.”

Slowly Linden nodded. He was right, of course. The shared resolve of the ur-viles and Waynhim may have been inexplicable in human terms, but they had done everything in their power to make their purposes clear. If not for Esmer—

Damn Esmer.

After a moment, she said unsteadily, “All right. I wasn’t being fair.” Then she added, “And the Humbled aren’t cryptic. They’re just reticent. And suspicious.” They stood on ground that shifted under them like quicksand. Everything that they had done in her company had taken them farther from their essential commitments. “What do they think about all this?” She waved an aimless gesture as if she meant the stream and the dusk-clad hills. “They’ve been putting up with me for days—presumably because they don’t expect me to survive. But they sure as hell don’t approve.

“What are they going to do?”

They had been maimed to resemble Covenant. In a sense, he was all that they had left.

Stave considered briefly. When he answered, his tone hinted at vehemence in spite of his native stoicism.