Possessed by Kastenessen, he had approached Liand in a similar fashion. Now he was sane. The interaction between the orcrest’s Earthpower and his native magicks warded him.

Terror burned in the croyel’s yellow gaze. Yet Jeremiah did not struggle. He regarded Anele emptily, understanding nothing.

But the old man did not touch the boy. He was interrupted.

Without warning, Esmer plunged out of the sky like a falling meteor.

Covenant had accused him of choosing Kastenessen’s legacy over Cail’s. You are indeed betrayed, Esmer had replied, but not by me.

His arrival shattered Linden’s power. It seemed to stun the nerves of her hands, leaving them numb on the Staff. Nausea writhed in her guts. He was a mass of wounds, rank and suppurating. Odious infections stained the tatters of his cymar, and his mien was anguish. Pain splashed from his eyes like spume. Nevertheless he came bearing concussions which tossed boulders from the cairn, caused upheavals like eruptions in the ridge. Quakes staggered the Giants. Linden nearly fell. Yowling in alarm, Cavewights sprang backward. Anele was flung aside. He collapsed like a bundle of rags on the gypsum.

Screaming, “Havoc!” Esmer strode after the old man. Anele brandished the Sunstone frantically, but he could do nothing. Unanswerable as a hurricane, Esmer raised his arms as if he meant to crack open the heavens; rain down chaos on the Land’s last hope.

As abrupt as Esmer’s coming, a score of ur-viles and Waynhim appeared within the cordon as though they had been incarnated by his vehemence. His hands fisted the sky, ready to hurl ruin. But before he could strike, the loremaster sprang at his arms.

With a jolt of force that seemed to shift the world, the loremaster clamped iron manacles onto Esmer’s wrists; sealed the bands.

In that instant, Linden’s nausea vanished. All of Esmer’s power vanished. The concussions endangering the ridge ceased. Bound together and helpless, his hands fell. They held nothing that could threaten Anele. When he plunged to his knees, he was sobbing.

To Linden, his cries sounded like relief: a release too long desired and denied for words.

In the distance, Roger gave a shriek of rage. At once, he began mustering a blast to shred the flesh of the Swordmainnir, hammer lava into the heart of their last defense.

Cavewights yammered in response. Roger’s fury rallied them. Swinging their weapons, they surged forward.

He would not care how many of them were slain.

But Anele scrambled back to his feet. Brushing past Esmer, he hastened toward Jeremiah again with his eyes and his orcrest as bright as little suns.