“Hell, Mahrtiir,” Linden muttered. “I don’t want to lose you either. We’ve been walking for two damn days—and now we’re in a hurry? But—”

“But,” Rime Coldspray interrupted sharply, “we have agreed to entrust our fate to the Ranyhyn. We were not coerced to this heading. Nor were we able to select a clearer course. And the Manethrall belabors a manifest truth when he observes that we are weary.

“Linden Avery, we are Giants, loath to fail the aid of any and all whom we name friends. Yet we are also sailors. We do not choose the world’s winds. We do what we may to seek our own desires, but we do not pretend to rule that which is offered to our sails. Come calm or gale, we gain our sought harborage—when we gain it—by endurance rather than by mastery.

“For our part, we will accept the will of these horses. If they are worthy of the honor which Manethrall Mahrtiir and the Ramen have accorded them, they will not mislead us.”

“But,” Linden repeated, “I was about to say that I’ve been making too many decisions for other people. And I don’t know that the Ranyhyn have ever been wrong.” They may have erred when they had exposed her to the Feroce and the lurker; but she no longer cared. Like Hyn, Hynyn, and Khelen, she yearned for speed. Desecration lies ahead of you. She wanted to meet it before fear or despair paralyzed her; while she could still choose. “Something has changed. I can’t guess what it is, but I believe that they know.

“So maybe they’re right. Maybe you should eat more. Rest more. Try to build up your strength. Narunal won’t hold you back when you’re needed.”

Then she faced the Manethrall. “Mahrtiir, I’m sorry. I can imagine how you feel.” She had watched Covenant ride away without her. “But as far as I’m concerned, nothing makes sense anymore. And we’ve come this far. Without the Ranyhyn, we’re all lost now. I’m just glad that they still know what they want.”

Mahrtiir appeared to flinch. But his emotions were too complex for Linden to read clearly. He radiated chagrin, anger, pride, umbrage, all in turmoil.

Stave’s reply was to vault astride Hynyn. Sitting the stallion, he bowed gravely, first to Manethrall Mahrtiir, then to Rime Coldspray.

For perhaps the last time, Grueburn boosted Linden onto her mount’s back. While Stormpast Galesend did the same for Jeremiah, the boy seemed to gaze at the cemetery of his thoughts as though every grave had been emptied of meaning.

At once, Hynyn, Hyn, and Khelen started away from the pool. For Jeremiah’s sake, apparently, they moved slowly at first. But with every heartbeat, they lengthened their strides. Soon they were running at a full gallop.