In the bottom of the hollow, Covenant still paced slowly around the radiance of the krill, studying it as if it had the capacity to anchor him somewhere in time, if only he could discover how to use it. As he moved, he spoke in a low voice; delivered a steady monologue that seemed to serve no purpose except to occupy his companions.

He may have been striving to retain as many of his splintered memories as he could.

The Humbled, Pahni and Bhapa, and three or four Giants stood in a loose circle that encompassed Covenant and the charred stump of Caer-Caveral’s corpse. The attitudes of the Giants and the Cords conveyed the impression that they had given up trying to find a coherent—or pertinent—narrative in Covenant’s musings. The blank stoicism of the Humbled concealed the character of their attention; but they appeared to be waiting for the ur-Lord, the Unbeliever, to become the man he had once been.

Belatedly Linden realized that the Humbled had no reason to assail her now. If they wished to prevent any further misuse of Earthpower and wild magic, they would have to battle the Harrow, who had already demonstrated that he was proof against them. And against Branl, Galt, and Clyme, the Ardent might side with his fellow Insequent. Linden could not imagine what use the Ardent might make of his ribbands, or his other magicks; but she did not doubt that it would be effective. In spite of his lisp and his corpulence, he had convinced her that he did indeed wield enhanced powers, for good or ill. The Harrow would not have acceded to the Ardent’s conditions otherwise.

Yearning wordlessly for some further reassurance from the man whom she had most harmed, Linden studied Covenant closely. She would need his attention soon, before she exhausted the Harrow’s patience—or the Ardent’s. She wanted to believe that she was still capable of a few undestructive decisions; that she could at least ensure the immediate safety of her friends before she went with the Harrow to watch the croyel swallow blood from Jeremiah’s neck. But she feared that her bargain with the Harrow had cost her the last of her credibility. Even Liand, Stave, and Mahrtiir might not heed her now, if Covenant did not take her part.

He would not be able to help her if he could not find his way out of the faults that riddled his mind. But he was still lost in the ramifications of time. He seemed to drift, rudderless, through a Sargasso of memories which were of no use to him.