“Speak as you wish,” put in the Harrow, “when the lady has allowed me to uphold our bargain. Only sway her to accompany me now. When I have forestalled the Worm, you will have leisure enough for any tale.”

The company around Covenant ignored the Insequent. For a moment, Coldspray’s comrades glanced at each other uncomfortably. Like the Haruchai, they seemed to see well enough without the benefit of fire or moonlight or wild magic. Then Frostheart Grueburn said softly, “In this fraught night, I find that I have no stomach for secrets or shame.” Her voice was a low growl at the back of her throat. “Linden Giantfriend has set aside her concealments. She has declared her deepest intentions. Do we fear now to be humbled in her presence? You have claimed some measure of fault for Longwrath’s madness, but the fault is neither yours nor ours. It belongs to the machinations of the Elohim, as honored Grimmand Honninscrave has made plain. Let us reveal our ancient folly and be done with it. Joy is in the ears that hear, not in the mouth that speaks.”

Several of the Swordmainnir murmured agreement. Others may have nodded.

“When I have forestalled the Worm—” the Harrow tried to insist. But the Ardent interrupted him.

“The desires of the lady prevail here, impetuous one.” The Ardent’s lisp became more pronounced, as if he were mocking the Harrow. “She will accompany us when she deigns to do so, in her own fashion, and by her own means. Until that moment, be content to wait.”

“I will not,” said the Harrow hotly.

The Ardent hesitated. When he replied, he spoke in a low voice, almost whispering.

“Must I utter your true name to silence you?”

Anger clenched the Harrow’s fists, knotted the muscles at the corners of his jaw. “You will not. That will be interference beyond question. You will forfeit your life.”

Nevertheless he did not hazard further provocation.

Still no one heeded either of the Insequent. Squaring her shoulders, Rime Coldspray confronted Covenant’s inquiry. As if she were ready to receive or deliver a blow, she said, “Very well, Thomas Covenant, Timewarden and Earthfriend. I will speak of the truth which has been revealed to us. I will explain that Giants are as prone to error and unwisdom as any people of the Earth.”

Resting her forehead on her knees, Linden allowed the night to fill her as though she had become a vessel of darkness. She did not care why Covenant sought to probe the Giants. She cared only that he strove to remain present; that he might find a way to lift her out of her failures. A way to spare her—

You judge harshly, Wildwielder. She should have tried to ease Elena’s long anguish. But there was nothing that Linden could do for Covenant’s daughter until she discovered some form of mercy for herself.