Instead he lowered his foot to the ground as if he believed that now his leg would be able to bear his weight.

It did. Somehow it did. Still holding Liand's shoulder, Stave hobbled toward the ring of seats as if he were dragging Liand's consternation with him.

Involuntarily furious, Linden breathed, "You idiot!"

as Stave lowered himself onto one of the blocks. "Next time, I'll have the Ramen tie you down. I didn't go through all that," wild magic threatening to scale out of control, "just so you could cripple yourself."

But she perceived at once that he had not done so. He was Haruchai; impossibly hardy. And hurtloam had already wrought miracles of healing within him. His hip would hurt for weeks; perhaps for months. But his blow had caused no permanent harm.

"Chosen," he replied through his pain, "did you not say that I must warn my people? Then I must hear you now."

Linden shrugged against her anger. "You won't like it."

She would show him, however, that she did not mean to be swayed.

Liand seated himself beside Stave. His concern for the Master had become a look of alarm. Bhapa frowned at Linden with his good eye. Dohn had resumed his vague study of the surrounding mountainsides; but Mahrtiir watched her like a man who had glimpsed the struggle for which his spirit hungered.

Complex uncertainties filled Hami's eyes as she murmured, "It-may be that your words will please no one among us. Yet we also must hear them. The Ranyhyn require it of us."

Linden faced them all as well as she could. Speaking harshly to contain her fear, she said, "Hell, even I don't like it, and it's my idea."

Then she dropped her gaze to the ground. She could not bear to watch her companions' reactions.

"Esmer and I talked about caesures, Falls," she began, clumsy again, incapable of grace. "According to him, they're flaws in time. Rips. They tear open the barrier," the necessary boundary, "between the past and the present. Lord Foul wants to destroy the Arch of Time. Caesures are just one of the ways he's trying to accomplish that."

One small rent at a time, over and over again, until the entire fabric tattered and fell.

"If Esmer is right, Anele really is the son of Sunder and Hollian. Three thousand and some years ago, he left the Staff of Law behind when he went to investigate a wrongness that turned out to be a Fall.

He had no defense when the Fall snatched him out of his life.

"The urviles came here the same way," Linden continued. "Lord Foul tried to exterminate them, back in the time of the Sunbane, but a few of them escaped into a Fall." Here she had probably encountered every remaining descendant of the Demondim. "Esmer seems to think they came looking for a future when they would be needed.

"Apparently caesures first started to haunt the Land maybe a hundred years ago. They're comparatively recent. That may be why any of us are still alive. But Esmer says there are limits to what Foul can accomplish with them. The Despiser has access to a white gold ring. In theory, he already has all the power he needs. But he can't simply tear down the Arch-or even attack it directly. The ring belongs to a woman who is completely broken. Too broken to be anything more than a tool."

And Covenant had given his life to secure the Arch. In some sense, his spirit still stood against Lord Foul.

After a pause, she avowed grimly, "I believe him. But we don't have to take his word for it. We already know that Time is essentially intact. We're still here. The Land is still here. Cause and effect still apply. And I doubt that even urviles have the power to elude Lord Foul.

"The Falls are a terrible threat, but they aren't enough. Foul needs more."

So far Linden felt only concentration from her listeners, not denial. They all had reason to take Esmer's words seriously. And no one had suggested a better explanation for Anele's baffled predicament-or for the presence of the urviles. She had harder things yet to say.

Studying the bare dirt, she said, "The way I see it, the caesures are relatively small. They may span thousands of years, but they don't cover much ground.

And they move slowly. That limits how much harm they can do.

"But I think there's another limitation," a restriction in addition to Joan's insanity. "Esmer didn't say this,"

he had merely asserted that any alteration of the established past would damage the Law of Time, "but I think the Falls only run forward. From the past to the present. Otherwise Foul could send someone into the past," God, he could even send Joan, "or he could go himself. He could change what's already happened. That would do more to threaten the Law of Time than the caesures themselves."

Trying to reassure herself, she concluded awkwardly, "In other words, things could be worse."

The more she said, however, the more her intentions appalled her. Soon her companions would respond with indignation and dismay. They would certainly oppose her.

She was not Thomas Covenant: she lacked the personal extremity for such risks.

"Ringthane," Hami responded in a neutral tone, "this is important knowledge. It explains much. But it does not reveal how such peril may be countered. Again I must ask.

"What is your intent?"

In fear, Linden might have countered, Why do I have to make these decisions? What would you do if I weren't here? She might have demanded, Ask Esmer, not me. He knows what's going on. I don't.

But she knew better. She was Linden Avery the Chosen, named Ringthane and Wildwielder. Jeremiah was her son. There was no one else to whom she could offer her burdens.

In spite of her trepidation, she raised her eyes to gaze at each of her companions: at the Manethralls, who feared for the Ranyhyn more than for the Land; at Bhapa, who appeared to feel indebted to her, commanded by blood to repay Sahah's life; at Liand, who had already shown that he would support her whatever she did; at Stave, who might believe that she served Corruption.

Then she pronounced distinctly, "We need the Staff of Law. I intend to go get it."

Liand stared at her, his face wide with confusion.

Stave raised his eyebrows as if she had contrived to pierce his impassivity. Frowning, Bhapa looked away.

He may have been reluctant to hear what she would say next.

Dohn had covered his eyes with his hands. His posture radiated chagrin. Protests gathered on Hami's visage.

But Mahrtiir looked at Linden as if he had heard the call to battle.

She held up her hands to forestall objections which her companions had not uttered. "I know, I know. Anele lost the Staff three and a half thousand years ago. And if I'm right, I can't get there from here. Caesures only run forward."

Then she knotted one fist on Covenant's ring under her shirt. "But Lord Foul isn't the only one who has access to wild magic." And he could not truly control Joan: her madness made her unwieldy. "If I can find a Fall, maybe I can make it take me where I want to go.,, Linden seemed to feel the high mountainheads leaning toward her. A moment of shock held the ring. Then several of her companions protested at once.

"You will break the Law of Time! You have said so."

"Caesures threaten Time. Wild magic itself threatens it." "It is impossible. You will fail, and be lost."

"Anele is mad! He cannot guide you to the Staff!"

But Mahrtiir's voice rode over the others, ringing with eagerness. "Are you adept at Time? Are such journeys common in your world? How will you find the time you seek?"

Linden closed her eyes; waited for her silence to create a space in which she could reply. She feared that Stave or Liand would cross the circle to shake her; defy her with their bare hands. But their objections, their dismay, seemed to blow past her on the dawn breeze and lose strength.

Then she heard a soft melody as Dohn began to sing: "Grass-grown hooves, and forehead stars; hocks and withers earth-wood bloom: regal Ranyhyn, gallop, runwe serve the Tail of the Sky, Mane of the World."

He may have been granting her permission. Or hope.

As if she had regained her heart, Linden opened her eyes. Because her companions were too many to face or answer all at once, she focused on the Manethralls; on Hami, who seemed to be her friend.

"Anele can guide me to the cave where he left the Staff," she said with as much conviction as she could summon. "If he gets the chance. He's already been back there any number of times. All I have to do is take him to the right year." Any year after the loss that had broken him. "He'll find his way.

"And I don't think I'll hurt the Law of Time. For one thing, it's not all that fragile. If it were, a hundred years of caesures would have shattered it already," in spite of Covenant's poignant surrender. "And for another "The Staff hasn't been used since Anele lost it. It hasn't changed anything. It hasn't done anything.

That's what being lost means." Surely the Haruchai, if no one else, would have become aware of it otherwise?

"Taking it out of the past and bringing it here won't disrupt what's already happened."

And she had one reason to believe that her extravagant proposal might ceed. The Staff was no longer where Anele had left it. Obsessed by grief and recrimination, he had confirmed that fact over and over again.

Which apparently implied -that she had been able, or would be able, to retrieve it.

Leaving the Law of Time intact in the process.

No one contradicted her. She could not read Stave's heart through his impassivity; but the others around her were too shaken to protest further. They must have believed her; believed that she would do what she had said.

Their silence frightened her more than almost any opposition. She needed to confront and overcome their fears in order to manage her own.

Grimly she forced herself to continue.

"Of course, I'll need to locate a caesure." She did not trust herself to create one: not without experiencing one first, reading it with her healthsense; learning to understand it. "But that's not the real problem."

Holding Hami's troubled gaze, Linden said, "The real problem is that I'm not 'adept at Time.' I can't find my way through the confusion in a caesure. I need to reach the Staff at some point after Anele lost it," or else she would indeed alter the past, "and I don't know how to do that."

She was certain that the Manethrall understood her.

"I asked Esmer. He said, 'Look to the Ranyhyn. "

Clenching her courage in both hands, one on Covenant's ring, the other wrapped around itself, she finished, "I assume that means they can help me."

Hami turned her face away as if she were flinching.

For a moment, none of the Manethralls met the demand in Linden's eyes. Instead they looked to each other. Linden had never felt in them the kind of mental communion which distinguished the Haruchai.

Nevertheless they appeared to acknowledge each other's apprehensions mutely; to ask each other Linden's implicit question.

Then Dohn said softly, "The Ranyhyn will choose.

They must. It is not our place. This matter is beyond us "

Mahrtiir nodded reluctantly, as if he were being asked to set aside a secret desire.

Hami's reluctance was of another kind as she faced Linden again. So hesitantly that Linden could barely hear her, the Manethrall replied, "It may be that the Ranyhyn are able to aid you-and will elect to do so. We know nothing of caesures or Falls. We are bound by Time. Yet the great horses are capable of much. That is certain.

"And it is certain also"-she faltered, then went on more strongly-"that they will answer when they are summoned. Once they have consented to be ridden, they will answer when they are summoned, though hundreds of leagues may intervene."

Linden stared at her. "What do you mean?"

Hami tightened her grip on herself. "Ringthane, hear me. At this moment, there are no Ranyhyn within this vale. We are Ramen and cannot be mistaken in this.

Neither Hyn nor Hynyn roams the Verge of Wandering. Yet if you were to summon her, Hyn would approach within moments." She held up her hand to prevent questions that Linden did not know how to ask. "If you stood in Mithil Stonedown and summoned her, she would appear at once. If you stood above ancient Revelstone itself and could not be approached except through the Westron Mountains, yet would she shortly answer your summons.

"Understand, Ringthane, that I do not speak of distance. The Ranyhyn do not transcend the difficulties of their journeys. Rather their power to answer is a power over days and seasons."

Linden's eyes widened in wonder and apprehension.

Alarm or hope swelled in her throat.

"The Ranyhyn do not spurn distance," Hami breathed as though the knowledge dismayed her. "They spurn time. They do not merely respond when they are summoned. Rather they hear that they will be summoned, and they respond. If the distance is great, and the obstacles also, the Ranyhyn will depart moons or seasons before they are summoned, that they may arrive when they are needed."

On some level beyond language or explication, they had mastered time.

"Oh, God," Linden murmured, hardly aware that she spoke aloud. "It's possible. If they help me. I might be able to do it."

Abruptly, Stave said, "Chosen." The pain of his hip was palpable as he forced himself to his feet. Stiff with hurt, he moved to stand over Linden. For this one moment, at least, his characteristic dispassion had deserted him. Instead his flat features were knotted with pleading and repudiation.

"Chosen," he said again.

She stared up at him as though she could not imagine what he would say, although she already knew every word by heart.

"You will not do this." Complex passions yearned in his voice. "It is abominable. Its hazards surpass endurance. The smallest error will damn the Land utterly." With a visible effort, he swallowed some of his intensity. "Must I remind you that the Staff supports and sustains Law by its very existence? It need not be wielded in order to affect all that is, all that transpires. If its influence upon the Land's past is removed, will not Corruption respond with delight?"

Linden bowed her head. She could not face the heat of his denial. "Stave," she breathed, speaking as much to her clenched hands as to him, "I have to."

"No," he countered with unwonted vehemence, "you do not. It is madness. Have you considered that Corruption has required three millennia to regain his strength? Have you considered that he has remained so long reduced because the Staff has been potent against him? Are these matters not plain to you?

Unused, the Staff has also not been misused. Therefore it hinders Corruption still. Likewise such atrocities as the Falls have been restrained and limited by the Staff's hidden suasion.

"If you will not think of such things, then consider the Masters. We are sworn to the preservation of the Land. Toward that end, we have labored across the centuries to pre vent the misuse of power which enables Corruption.

You have earned my forbearance. I do not wish to oppose you. But my enmity-the enmity of the Haruchai-is certain if you persist. You are mighty, as we know. Yet I must prevent you. And if I cannot, even your puissance will not avail you against the combined force of the Masters."

Every word he said was true: Linden knew that. But he had said too much, and she could no longer hear him. Crying, "You don't understand!" she surged to her feet.

Obliquely, she saw that Liand had come to Stave's side, ready to defend her if the Master attacked.

However, the Manethralls remained seated, watching her with consternation in their eyes. Bhapa crouched as if he had started to rise with Liand, and had been stopped by a word from the Manethralls.

But they were all irrelevant to her now. It was Stave who confronted her, Stave who challenged her; and he could snap her neck with one sharp blow, in spite of his hurts. Even if she were capable of defending herself, she could not bear to think that he would become her enemy. Another foe among so many Ignoring the pain in his hip, the Master faced her. His mien resumed its familiar flat detachment. "Then inform me, Chosen," he replied inflexibly. The pallor of his scar seemed to reject whatever she might say.

"What is it that I do not understand?"

Desperation rose in her like fury. But it was not anger that filled her voice: it was supplication.

"Don't you remember last night? Do you even listen to yourself when you talk? I asked you why the Ramen haven't forgiven you for trying to use the Illearth Stone, and you said it's because they weren't present.

They can't know what the Bloodguard suffered in Seareach because they weren't there.

"But you don't know me any better than the Ramen know you." Transformed by pleading, she met his stare as if her own fear could no longer touch her.