“I am impatient, lady.” The brown-clad Insequent’s voice was deep loam. “Have done with these delays. Accompany me.”

He tried to sound scornful, but Linden heard him clearly. He was not impatient: he was alarmed. Instinctively she guessed that he did not want Covenant to wield the krill.

She ignored him. If she had known how to do so, she would have summoned the Wraiths. The sight of Covenant’s ruined hands nearly stopped her heart.

With waddling steps, the Ardent approached the cluster around Covenant. And as he drew near, his garish apparel expanded. Amid a cloud of floating colors, he advanced until he gained an unobstructed view of Covenant’s hands. Then with a florid gesture he sent bright ribbands curling and probing toward the Unbeliever.

“Joan,” Covenant panted, fighting to manage more pain than he could contain.

Crimson and opalescent strips found his hands. Two or three of the Swordmainnir started to swat the bands away, then stopped themselves.

Unregarded on the ground, the krill’s heat began to fade. It remained too hot for Linden, Liand, or the Ramen to touch safely; but the rush of force which had damaged Covenant dwindled away.

“She or turiya felt what I was doing.”

Clutching his unused Sunstone, Liand watched as streamers of cloth began to wrap Covenant’s hands, his heat-ravaged fingers.

“She tried to stop me.”

Silken as caresses, the ribbands glided over his skin, twined around each other seamlessly as they formed bandages which were still part of the Ardent’s raiment.

Their theurgy was invisible to Linden’s senses. Nevertheless Covenant’s relief was immediate. While her heart tried to beat, his pain sank away like water into parched sand. A moment of light-headedness nearly broke her balance.

“If that poor woman could concentrate,” he said, sighing. By degrees, he began to breathe more easily. “If Foul hadn’t hurt her so badly.”

“That was well done,” the Ardent announced with plumy satisfaction, “though I alone proclaim it so.” Another gesture detached Covenant’s bandages from the fluttering aura of his garments; sent them to secure themselves. “If you will abide by my counsel, Timewarden, you will not remove my bindings. The easing of pain is a less arduous magic than the mending of flesh. Also it cannot be doubted that you will find subsequent need for such protection. My gift will prove a greater benison if it is permitted to remain as it is.”

Covenant did not appear to hear the Insequent. His voice grew stronger as he finished, “She wanted to kill me, but she’s in too much pain herself. She’ll probably try again later. For now, she’s done as much as she can.”

How he knew this, Linden could not imagine. Nonetheless she agreed with him. She had recognized Joan’s ferocity herself. And she was familiar with the frailty of Joan’s damaged mind.