“But I am not such a fool. The Elohim are little more than Earthpower made sapient. If the Worm cannot feed upon them, it will devour other sustenance until it attains the culmination of its hunger. In this, it resembles any beast. To imprison the Elohim will gratify my pride. It will gain naught else.

“Lady—” The Harrow hesitated briefly; glanced at the Ardent. Then he shrugged again. “It is my intent to wield both Law and wild magic in your son’s service. With such forces at his command, he will possess might sufficient to devise a gaol into which the Worm must enter, and from which it will be unable to emerge. This you cannot accomplish in my stead. The reasons are many. I will cite two.

“First, you lack my knowledge of such theurgies. Regardless of your own desires and extremity, you do not comprehend the precise form of aid which your son will require. You cannot be guided by insights which you have not earned. Through your intervention, your son’s failure will be assured.

“Second, he alone is not adequately lorewise to fashion the gaol I envision. He has not been granted centuries of study in which to perfect his gifts. Therefore I must rely upon the connivance of the croyel.”

Linden understood him immediately; involuntarily. The croyel: the dire succubus which she had last seen feeding on Jeremiah’s neck, draining his life and mind while it gave him power. Swift as instinct, she grasped that the Harrow meant to leave her son under that vicious being’s control. The dark Insequent needed more than Earthpower and wild magic and Jeremiah’s talent for constructs: he needed the croyel’s specific powers and knowledge.

The mere idea filled her with fury. For Jeremiah’s sake, she wanted to strike the Harrow down, stamp out his life. And for Jeremiah’s sake, she restrained herself. She believed the Harrow’s claim that he alone could take her to her son.

“Will you permit this?” Liand flung his own anger and dismay at the Ardent. “Is this the measure of your kind, that you are careless of a child’s pain? Was the Mahdoubt alone in her compassion?”

The Ardent twisted his features into an expression of distress. His ribbands spun ambiguously about him, signaling emotions that meant nothing to Linden. But he did not answer.

She alone will determine—Nor will we deem your oath fulfilled—

“You still aren’t telling the truth,” she insisted. “You’ve wanted my power ever since we first met. You wanted Jeremiah and the croyel. But you didn’t know that I was going to wake up the Worm. You couldn’t. How am I supposed to trust you now?”