For a moment, he addressed the Ardent rather than Linden. “You demand much,” he said: the deep snarl of a beast. “Three things I sought from the lady. One I have already eschewed. It was denied to me by the Mahdoubt’s unconscionable obstruction. Do you truly dream that I will surrender still more of my desires?”

Then he replied to Linden. Harsh as acid, he said, “The conjoined resolve of the Insequent suffices to command me. Lady, I will honor your reading of my oath. My purpose for your son I set aside—for the present.

“Yet yours,” he promised fiercely, “will be an empty triumph. You evade my intent to no avail. When we have retrieved your son, the only powers which offer hope to the Earth will remain in my possession. You will strive as you may to free your son from the croyel. In that endeavor, I did not vow my aid. And when you have failed, as you must—when you stand powerless before the world’s doom—I will inquire if by chance you have reconsidered the terms of your ‘contentment.’”

A moment later, he added with less anger, “The doom-saying of the Elohim does not merit credence. They care only for their own lives. If the Worm is imprisoned, they may indeed cease to exist. But the Earth and all other life continued while the Worm slumbered. If it is imprisoned, they will endure. I do not propose to slay it.”

Linden might have asked the Ardent, Is that true? But she was trembling too hard to speak. Now, she told herself. Do it now. Before he changes his mind.

The time had come for absolute answers. She was going to give Covenant’s wedding band and the Staff of Law to the Harrow. As soon as she could make her muscles obey her—

Infelice had told her, Your remorse will surpass your strength to bear it. She did not doubt the Elohim. Nevertheless she was prepared to bear any burden in order to save her son. Long ago, she had recognized that even the Land and Thomas Covenant did not mean as much to her as Jeremiah.

And Covenant had said, I think we should do this Linden’s way. He may have understood the implications of his support.

“All right.” She could not yet control her voice, but she did not let her weakness stop her. “I’m not ready to leave. There are still a few things that I have to do. But I want to make this bargain,” bind the Harrow to his word, “while the Ardent is here to keep you honest.”

Nothing relieved the darkness of the Harrow’s gaze. Perhaps nothing could. But his attention sharpened suddenly: every line of his elegant form became vivid. His aura was a blaze of vindicated avarice.