“Yet by your own admission,” he said, “the Chosen did not effect the boy’s release from the croyel. Nor was he freed by ur-Lord Covenant’s intervention. And it was neither the Chosen nor the Unbeliever who discovered the boy’s covert in the Lost Deep. Furthermore we were not brought to this place at this time by either the Chosen or the Unbeliever—or by her son, or by his son or mate. We are here only by the will of the Ranyhyn.

“Herein lies your error, Elohim. Every essential step along the path of the boy’s purpose has been taken by the natural inhabitants of the Earth. The Chosen and the Unbeliever and perhaps even the Unbeliever’s son have enabled those steps, but have not determined them. Therefore our presence here, and the boy’s present display of lore, do not conform to your description of the shadow upon the hearts of the Elohim. If we are now threatened by ‘the worst of all evils,’ it is through no fault or purpose or power of the Chosen’s son.

“Thus,” the Haruchai stated as though his logic were unassailable, “it is made plain even to mortal minds that your protestations are spurious. You appear to believe that this boy is no more than a tool wielded by other beings. But the tool cannot be held accountable for the use which is made of it. And here the hands which wield him are those of the Ranyhyn and the Harrow, the first new Stonedownor and the lost son of Sunder and Hollian. They are the hands of beings who live and may perish within the proper confines of Time.

“Thus it follows that you have no cause to oppose the boy. His present efforts cannot achieve Corruption’s designs.”

Yes, Linden thought. Yes. It was Stave who had first shown her how to believe that Jeremiah did not belong to Lord Foul. Now the former Master dispelled every doubt that had marred her faith.

Apart from the claiming of your vacant son—

He’s belonged to Foul for years.

Roger had lied to her. The Despiser had tried to mislead her. From the first, one or both of them had striven to teach her despair. And they had succeeded.

Yet Stave answered them for her. The Ranyhyn and Anele had answered them. Jeremiah himself was answering them now.

Trust.

With as much subtlety as she could manage, Linden began mustering Earthpower in her mind.

As her son added phalanges and tarsal blocks like supports for his lintel, the force implicit in his structure scaled still higher. Soon it felt like the gnashing of dislocated realities, a door between worlds. In contrast, the music of the Elohim seemed dim and lusterless; as dulled as the ashen sky.

Over her shoulder, Infelice cast a glance like a blaze of gems at the boy. Then she faced Stave for the first time.