Hami concealed a smile. "We have learned a path among the stones. The mustang will not find it difficult." Then she looked at Linden and said more gravely, "Your weariness is plain, Ringthane. Your mount will be able to bear you, if you wish it."

Linden stiffened. "No, thanks," she muttered. Her weakness the previous day had injured her self- confidence. "If Somo can manage it, I probably can too."

The Ramen leader nodded. "I do not question it."

"But tell me something," Linden went on, "before I start breathing too hard to talk." She had not forgotten the apparent disingenuousness of Hami's earlier claim that her people had no communication with or comprehension of the urviles.

"If it will ease your way," the Manethrall replied, "I will answer as I can "

Her tone conveyed sincerity, although Linden also heard hints of hesitation. The Ramen had their own secrets, which they did not mean to reveal.

Troubled by her sense of unspoken intentions, Linden asked, "How did you know about the kresh?"

Hami gave her a perplexed frown. "Ringthane?"

"It all seems too tidy to me," Linden explained awkwardly. "I don't see how you could have known that I was in danger. But you came to my rescue anyway, right when I needed you.

"How did you do that?"

Ah" Ilanli nodded. "Now I comprehend. Our presence was indeed timely. It need not surprise you, however.

"It i s our c what trans'

pres there. Yesterday with my Cords I had elected to keep watch on the t~thil vall ey f plains only there are these mountains readily entered-there, and from the of Ra , El or .sewhere the cliffs forbid passage.

blocks an ustom betimes to scout the borders of the Land, seeking some glimpse of "From the heights above the valley, we saw the kresh gather to hunt. We did not know what they hunted.

We sought only to assail them when they dared the mountains. That you were their prey we did not discover until we had prepared our ambush."

Her explanation sounded plausible. Linden would not have questioned it if she had not heard hints of avoidance in the Manethrall's tone.

She stopped walking so that she would be able to stand her ground. When Hami halted as well, Linden said, "Yet somehow you picked yesterday to be right where I needed you. And so did the urviles.

"Don't misunderstand me," she added quickly. "I'm grateful. I trust you already. But I'm"-she shrugged uncomfortably-"suspicious of coincidences." Lord Foul had taught her that.

She could believe that the urviles had known of her presence in the Land, and of her need. Millennia ago, they had recognized that Covenant would return. But nothing about the Ramen suggested that they had such lore.

Cords gathered around her as she waited, but she ignored them; concentrated on Hami.

"You keep saying," she went on when the Manethrall did not answer, "you don't speak the urviles'

language. But that's not the whole story, is it? You communicate with them somehow. You have some way of working together."

"And the Demondimspawn," Stave put in harshly, "have ever served Corruption." He had placed himself at Linden's shoulder. "They opposed their ancient master in the time of the Sunbane. Yet plainly he did not destroy them, as he appeared to do. Perhaps he preserved them covertly across the centuries, in preparation, it may be, for the return of white gold to the Land."

Now Linden took notice of the Cords, drawn by the tension emanating from them. When she studied them, she realized that they shared Hami's secrets; that all of the Ramen knew the things which the Manethrall would not say.

Hami bristled at Stave's words. Her fingers twitched to take hold of her garrote. Stave faced her impassively, however, unswayed by her indignation.

our re "Does it offend you, Manethrall, that the Haruchai are not gladdened by your turn to the borders of the Land? That we question your actions and your troth?

The" reply to the Chosen's query. Permit us to judge the nature of your purposes."

No doubt he could discern the presence of secrets as clearly as Linden did.

e Hami gauged him darkly: she seemed eager for combat. But then, distinctlY~ sh closed the door on her ready pride.

"You speak of that which lies beyond you, sleepless one;"

she answered like a "Two days I asked in which to take counsel and seek comprehension. This YOU en. cepted. Therefore there can be no contest between us. You are safe among the Ram We will permit no harm to you, or to your companions.

"Nor will we take offense. To provoke us is unseemly.

Such impatience ill be comes You."

Stave regarded Hami for a moment, apparently appraising her. Then he surprised Linden by bowing as he had in the rift.

"I hear you, Manethrall. I will be patient, as I have agreed. I have named the causes of my doubt. But know also that I am grieved to encounter the Ramen after so many generations, and to be denied knowledge of the Ranyhyn.

"You misjudge the Bloodguard. They did not ride Ranyhyn to their deaths, as you avow. Rather they accepted service which the Ranyhyn offered freely. No life or power in all the Land was honored or loved more highly than that of the great horses."

Again Hami did not return his bow. Instead she retorted, "The Bloodguard might have refused that service. The Ringthane did so. Yet he prevailed."

Then she returned her attention to Linden's question.

"As for the timeliness of our aid," she answered like a shrug, "it is no great wonder. We were drawn to the region of the Mithil valley by the fall of Kevin's Watch.

I have said that we scout the borders of the Land. Such destruction could not escape our notice."

Without another word, she turned away, leading her Cords on toward the base of the arete.

Linden wanted to stay where she was. The animosity between Stave and the Ramen disturbed her. Their every exchange was fraught with history; with memories and passions which she had not shared and could not evaluate. She did not know what to expect from them.

But the Ramen were moving, and so she followed them. She could not afford the severity which seemed to rule Stave and Hami.

At once, Liand came to her side, radiating confusion like heat. However, he waited until she acknowledged him with a glance before he murmured privately, "I do not understand. What troubles the Master? Can he not descry the worth of the Ramen?"

"Sure, he can," Linden replied softly. "It isn't their honesty he's worried about. It's their secrets."

The Stonedownor looked surprised; but he did not contradict her. Perhaps he, too, had felt the undercurrents in Hami and her Cords. Instead he mused as if to himself, "l had not known that the Masters are capable of grief."

Linden sighed, "Of course they are." If they had not felt love or known loss, they WOUld not have sworn the Vow which had bound them to the service of the Lords. They re just too strict to admit it most of the time."

Lid frowned. "Does that account for their denial of the Land's history and won der? DO they fear to grieve?"

Linden looked at him sharply. "Maybe." She had not thought of Stave's people in those terms. "I don't know anything about Ranyhyn, but it's obvious they were precious to the Haruchai.

Stave is afraid something terrible has happened to them."

The young man kept her company in silence for a while. Then he said slowly, "I do not believe so. I know nothing of these Ramen. Nor am I accustomed to the new life which fills my senses. Perhaps it misleads me.

Yet-" He paused again, then said more strongly, "Yet I do not believe that any great harm has befallen the Ranyhyn. The Ramen would not countenance it. They would have died, all of them, to prevent it."

Linden nodded. The Ramen had given her the same impression.

But surely Stave could see the Manethrall and her Cords as clearly as Liand did? As clearly as Linden herself? If so If so, his suspicions sprang from a deeper source.

Like him, she wanted to know why the Ramen would not speak of the great horses.

n silence, the company finished their descent to the foot of the rubble piled between the cliffs, the base of the arete.

By the time they reached it, the sun had risen near noon, and Linden could feel its force beginning to scorch her face and neck. She could not gauge how much elevation she had gained since leaving Mithil Stonedown; but the air was noticeably thinner, sharper, and the sun's fire, masked by the cool atmosphere, had a deceptive intensity. Before long, every exposed inch of her skin would be burned.

She felt vaguely faint as she joined the Ramen below the arete, light-headed with too much exertion and sun. Fortunately Manethrall Hami called a halt so that the travelers could rest and refresh themselves before tackling the knurled litter of the ridge. No doubt she had done so primarily for Linden's benefit.

Nonetheless Linden was grateful, Seen from its base, the arete looked unattainably high: an enormous wrack of boulders piled precariously toward the sky. Its sides appeared to lean outward, impending ominously over anyone foolish enough to attempt them. And some trick of pehase, tive foreshortened the brusque cliffs on either side so that they seemed to emp and stumbled as rather than dwarf the ridge. Staring upward, Linden lost her balance though she had felt a tremor in the rubble, a hint of shattering like the unsteadine" that had presaged the fall of Kevin's Watch.

ranite speak, as The rock remembered its own breaking. If she could have heard g Wn Anele did, it might have shared with her the convulsion which had ripped it do from the cliffs.

She looked around for the old man. He would heed stone wherever he found it,, she he mlgh~ was sure of that. If he were in one of the more lucid phases of his madness, tell her what he gleaned.

However, she found him seated on a swath of grass sprinkled with wildflowers, gna,,tiing on a strip of jerky which one of the Cords had given him, and muttering im precations at anyone who went near. His aura reeked of Despite.

Even here, beyond the familiar borders of the Land, Lord Foul could still reach him.

Could still know where he was-and Linden with him.

She had become convinced that the Despiser had sent kresh after her because he had learned of her movements through Anele and sought to stop her.

Therefore she assumed-prayed?-that her present course thwarted Lord Foul in some way. Yet as long as he retained his ability to inhabit Anele, however erratically, he could ambush her anywhere.

She told herself that she should approach the old man now; but the fears which had stopped her earlier restrained her still. She lacked the courage to take his madness into herself.

For a time, at least, she also might become accessible to the Despiser. And if Lord Foul could reach her, he would reach Covenant's ring as well.

Trust yourself, Covenant had urged her in dreams.

Linden, find me. But he was dead: she had seen him slain ten years and several millennia ago. She was no nearer to him now than she had been two days ago.

When the Manethrall called the company forward again, Linden complied with a groan.

Hami had told her the truth, however: the Ramen knew a way among the boulders that did not surpass her strength. Although the path wove and twisted upward, contorting itself back and forth across the slope, it offered stable footing and a gentle ascent. And it was wider than she had expected, in spite of the towering bulk and knuckled shapes of the stones.

Somo navigated the path with little urging: she was able to climb it almost easily.

Still the ascent took some time. Linden had to stop more and more frequently to rest her quivering muscles. Under other circumstances, she might have accepted a ride on Somo's back. But she was no horsewoman; and the pinto already looked heavily burdened by Liand's supplies. And being carried would not make her stronger.

Lord Foul had Jeremiah. The Land needed her. And the fact that she was entirely unequal to such demands changed nothing. If she did not free her son, no one would.

The time had come for her to exceed herself.

This ridge was as good a place as any to start.

Somehow she made it. By the time she reached the saddle between the mountains, the sun had moved into the midafternoon sky, and her legs had gone numb with strain Sweat dripped from her cheeks, stained her shirt under her arms and down her back, At intervals, the pangs of cramps or blisters jabbed her feet. Yet she made it. And when she stood cooling in the breeze, at the crest of the piled stones, she could see what lay ahead of her.

I.

Beyond the arete, a cluster of mountains leaned away from each other to unfurl a wide valley in their midst: a rich grassland, verdant as a meadow in springtime, fed by a network of delicate streams and small pools.

In the afternoon light, the whole floor of the valley had a lush hue, an aspect of luxuriance, far deeper than the green sprouting of buds and grass around Mithil Stonedown; and the streams and pools seemed to catch the sun like liquid diamonds. It might have been a place out of time, sheltered from winter by the surrounding peaks: an instance of late spring or summer made possible by an abundance of water and sunshine amid the lingering cold of the mountains.

The eagerness of the Ramen assured Linden that there lay the Verge of Wandering. From this distance, however, she saw no signs of habitation. If the Ramen lived here, they concealed the evidence well. They may not have been a people who valued structures or permanence. Perhaps they preferred to roam, touching the Earth lightly wherever they paused.

They were waiting for a chance to return home. To the Plains of Ra, where they belonged.

Reflexively Linden looked around for Anele. At first, she was unable to locate him: he was not among the Ramen. Then she spotted him a short way off the path.

He had clambered away from his companions in order to sprawl on a sheet of stone and wedge his face into the gap between two weathered chunks of granite.

Anele? Frowning in concern, she limped toward him.

He had not collapsed there; was not unconscious.

Rather her healthsense detected a sharpened awareness, as if his nerves had been tuned to a higher pitch. His aura had taken on a hue of concentration, lucid and helpless. Automatically she assumed that he was listening to the stone; that he had jammed his face against it in order to hear its whispering.

When she reached his side, however, she saw that she was wrong. He was not listening: he was cowering.

Fear boiled off him like steam. He had forced his head between those two stones as though they might stop his ears.

Earthpower throbbed in him like the labor of a stricken heart.

"Anele, what's wrong?" She had asked him that too often. He needed more than her concerned incomprehension. "What do you hear?"

The stones he had chosen were comparatively smooth.

Wind and water and time hil had worn away their roughness until they resembled the floor of his gaol in N Stonedown; the surface of Kevin's Watch.

"Be gone." Rock muffled his voice. "Anele does not speak. He is Comm anded Ne obeys. Anele obeys."

threadbare Commanded? By the stones? Linden resisted an impulse to grab at the fabric of his tunic; tug him out of his protective covert.

Confusion and sunburn pas in her temples.

"Anele," she repeated as calmly as she could, "what's wrong? Talk to me."

"Be gone," he croaked again. "Anele demands. He begs. He is commanded. He must not speak:'

"Christ on a crutch," Linden muttered at him.