When your deeds have come to doom, as they must, remember that he is the hope of the Land. Apparently Sunder and Hollian imagined that their son still had a vital role to play, despite the awakening of the Worm.

In contrast, the emanations of the Giants spoke of gritted teeth and grim resolve. The manner in which they advanced upon Linden and her companions, and the darkness of their scowling, announced that they knew what had transpired here. Drawing them away, the shade of Grimmand Honninscrave must have explained what their absence had permitted or prevented. Perhaps Honninscrave had told the Swordmainnir why the Dead had sought to ensure that the living did not participate in or disrupt Linden’s choices.

Apparently, however, the former Master of Starfare’s Gem had revealed other things as well. The Giants spared a moment of sorrow for Covenant’s unconsciousness. They acknowledged Linden with ambivalent nods and grimaces, as if they had not made up their minds about her: they glowered ominously at the Harrow and the Humbled. But they did not pause for Stave or the Ramen or Liand. Instead they strode toward Infelice with demands in their eyes and anger in their stalwart arms.

Hardly aware of what she did, Linden turned to learn what impelled the Giants.

As they confronted Infelice, her expression became imperious. Bitterly she drifted into the air until her face was level with the combative glaring of the Swordmainnir. Her lambent form demanded an obeisance which the Giants did not deign to grant.

“In a distant age,” Rime Coldspray said at once, “our ancestors were misled to accept a false bargain with the Elohim. That the bargain was false in all sooth has been made plain to us. And it has now been betrayed through no deed of ours. We require restitution.”

A bargain? Linden wondered. What bargain?

Infelice lifted her chin haughtily. “And do you conceive that restitution is mine to grant?”

“How could it be otherwise?” retorted the Ironhand. “The bargain was made at your behest. The falseness is yours. With oblique misstatement and bland prevarication, you offered a true benefit to obtain a vile payment which no Giant who has ever lived would have proffered knowingly. Now you have claimed payment for that gift purchased with lies—and the guerdon has been withdrawn. Therefore our payment must be returned to us.”

Dimly Linden remembered hearing the Giants of the Search mention a bargain. Ten years ago in her life. But something had reminded her of it recently.

The eyes of the Elohim flared like faceted fires. “You reason falsely, Giant. I concede that our bargain has been betrayed through no deed of yours. Indeed, I concede that your witless ancestors concealed from themselves the truth of their own profligate unwisdom. But we did not impose their misapprehension. We merely permitted it. Nor have we condoned the betrayal of our bargain. That the mere-son sees fit to serve mad Kastenessen does not occur by our choice, or with our consent. For both Kastenessen’s malice and Esmer’s treachery, we are blameless.”