Pahni had begun eating. With painful slowness, she lifted small morsels to her mouth and chewed them as if they had no meaning except survival. She did not appear to hear Bhapa.

“In the lives that we have known,” the older Cord continued, “our love for the Ranyhyn is an anodyne for mourning. How can our hearts not lift when we behold the great horses in their glory? But in this circumstance Pahni is thrice bereft. Her joy is slain, the Ringthane has of necessity refused her, and here there are no Ranyhyn.

“My gratitude for your consideration—”

Bhapa swallowed fiercely, unable to find his voice again. He looked like he might weep, although his body had no moisture to spare for tears. As if he were ashamed of his emotions, he ducked his head.

More harshly than she intended, Linden asked, “Did you think about calling her Ranyhyn? Naharahn would have answered. Pahni wouldn’t have come so close to the edge—”

Then Linden stopped, cursing herself. She was not angry at Bhapa. It was her own role in Pahni’s pain that vexed her.

Before she could apologize, Bhapa raised his head. For the first time since she had known him, she saw ire in his eyes.

“The Ranyhyn do not live to serve us,” he said like sand scraped by stone. “They are not ours to command. We live to serve them. Until you came among us, no Ramen had ever ridden them. Enabling us to accompany you on your dire quests, they do us too much honor. None but a Manethrall may ask more of them.”

“I’m sorry,” Linden replied as gently as she could. “I shouldn’t have said that. I know better. I’m just upset that there’s nothing I can do for Pahni.”

Bhapa’s glare did not soften: he seemed unwilling to accept her apology. She had awakened his Ramen pride. But Cirrus Kindwind rested her arm across his shoulders and drew him away from Linden. “Come, Cord,” she said to soothe him. “If you deem me considerate, permit me to be so now. Your need for aliment emulates Pahni’s. Join her, I beseech you, and nourish your strength. We must soon depend upon yours, and hers, and every heart among us.”

Firmly Kindwind guided him to the meal that she had offered Pahni and seated him beside the young Cord.

“Thank you,” Linden murmured. Little as it was, it was as much as she could do. The comfort of resting against Covenant was gone, eroded by the effects of the Liand’s death. Pahni’s distress triggered reminders of She Who Must Not Be Named.

Cirrus Kindwind nodded; shrugged. Briefly she glanced at Stave, perhaps asking him with her gaze to watch over the Cords. Then she turned her attention toward her comrades once more.