His eye held hers. “Indeed. I am Haruchai.” Then he shrugged. “Yet grief is now known to me. Therefore compassion also is known. And in your company I have learned that I must aspire to humility.”

Just for an instant, the lines of his mouth hinted at a smile.

Desecration lies ahead of you. But Giants tell no tales—Obliquely both Stave and Grueburn triggered memories of Anele’s excoriated lucidity in Revelstone. She had promised to protect him from the consequences of her desires—and he had refused her.

All who live share the Land’s plight. Its cost will be borne by all who live. This you cannot alter. In the attempt, you may achieve only ruin.

Now she understood the old man. When your deeds have come to doom, as they must—She understood Stave. She had spent so many years taking care of Jeremiah, so many years tending patients too damaged to provide for their own survival, that she had forgotten how to count on other kinds of relationships. She had allowed herself to believe only in Covenant—and now she doubted even him. Blind to the implications of her actions, she had in some sense treated all of her friends like children or invalids.

Even Liand. Even Stave.

Why else had she felt diminished whenever they had risen to challenges which had defeated her?

She still did not comprehend why the Ranyhyn had risked taking her close to the lurker of the Sarangrave; but she knew what the experience meant. It had forced her to cast aside her Staff: the emblem of her arrogance. Perhaps inadvertently, the horses had shown her that she could rely on her friends to save her and Jeremiah and the Land when she could not.

Hyn and the others were still trying to show her how to find her way. How to forgive her weaknesses by having faith in the strength of her companions.

The company’s path upward remained tortuous until the ridgecrest. From that height, however, Linden could see that the southward descent was more gradual. And she caught sight of Landsdrop. Grey in the depthless sunlight, it loomed two thousand feet and more above her own elevation: a blunt rampart smoothed by the ages until it appeared almost blank; too sheer to scale. But she knew from old experience as well as from tales that Landsdrop was more accessible than it looked. There were trails of all kinds up and down the precipice, although she could not descry them at this distance.

Ignoring the impatience of the Ranyhyn, Linden studied the vista. Almost directly to the west, a thin string of water fell as though it had been tossed over the rim by a negligent hand. Dull against the dim stone, like a strand of tarnished silver, it dropped in stages, shifting from side to side as its plunge encountered obstacles, and casting fine hints of spray into the etiolated sunshine.