Linden hoped that one of the Giants would say something to reassure Mahrtiir. She could not. But Covenant had already flung himself into motion; resumed his pacing. “Hellfire,” he growled to himself. “His steed?” Briefly he appeared to count the number of times that he could repeat those words between one slope of the canyon and the other. Then he wheeled to face the company.

His manner compelled their attention in spite of the abrupt loss of Pahni and Bhapa—and of the Ardent.

“I don’t need to know the name of his damn horse,” he rasped. “I have to go.” Then he swore again, a string of curses so familiar that they sounded like pleading. To Linden’s startled dismay, and the small lift of Stave’s eyebrow, and the open surprise of the Swordmainnir, he repeated, “I have to go.”

Brusque with self-coercion, he added, “I know this is sudden. Never mind that I’m usually useless. You still think you need me. You went through too much to bring me back in the first place. Probably the last thing you want right now is to watch me leave. Hell, if I were you, that’s how I would feel. But I have to go.

“And you can’t go with me. Before I worry about anything else, there’s something I have to do alone.”

—he has another purpose.

While Linden reeled within herself, he shrugged awkwardly. “Well, not absolutely alone. I’m taking Clyme and Branl with me. You’ll have to manage without them until I get back.”

With both hands, he held the bundled krill as if his life depended on it.

He must not step aside from it.

Disconcerted, the Giants struggled to muster a response. Mahrtiir stared at Covenant in unconcealed chagrin. Even Stave’s flat visage gave hints of disapprobation.

“Is this some new recollection?” the Ironhand inquired finally. “Do you now possess knowledge or understanding which you have not revealed?”

But Linden noticed none of her companions; no one except the man who had once loved her—and now would not let her touch him.

“Covenant,” she panted, unconsciously fighting for breath. “Covenant.” He was rejecting her. “What are you talking about?” God, he was rejecting her. “I need—We need—” Her sins had become too much for him. “God damn it, Covenant! If you don’t care about anything else, the Land needs you.”

She had awakened the Worm for his sake. She could not suffer the consequences of her desperation or folly without him.

“Linden, listen to me.” His gaze was flagrant with emotions for which she had no names. His eyes were blurred fires of loss or pity or pure rage. “I’m talking about Joan.”