she said, "we have come to bid you farewell. You must depart soon, as must the Ramen. Ere then, however-"

The woman hesitated, then said intently, "Linden Avery, I will not challenge your choices. The Land's needs rest heavily upon you-and more so upon you than any other, though all are affected. Both your worth and your risk surpass my estimation.

"Yet it must be said-if the saying of it will not offend you-that your purpose appears unwise. You are ill, and worsening. If you hope to master a Fall, will you not require health and strength?

"You have said that the Ranyhyn fear you. Is this not the cause? That your resolve imperils the Land?"

Linden heard Hami's words, but she could not attend to them. The clashing speech of the urviles confused her. If she listened to their harsh language much longer, she would start to howl.

Unaware of her own motions, she raised her hands to cover her ears. "Tell them to stop," she urged the Manethrall. "I can't stand this."

"You would do well to suffer it," Esmer retorted immediately. "I serve you still, though you disdain my efforts."

The loremaster fell silent, clamping shut the thin slit of its mouth until the muscles of its jaw bulged with urgency.

Linden sagged against Liand as if a bubble of distress had burst, releasing her to fever.

"Explain," Stave demanded of Esmer in her stead.

Gail's son faced the Haruchai with green threats seething in his eyes. "The urviles distrusted her purpose as it appeared to them. They demanded explanation. I have informed them that she will dare the past, seeking the Staff of Law with only a madman's memory to guide her. Now they have determined to aid her.

"They will accompany her. With their lore, they will pierce the madman's confusion, sharing that which they descry with the Ranyhyn. Thus she may hope to be guided accurately."

None of this made sense to Linden: she was too far gone in tremors. Instead of listening, trying to understand, she lifted her face to the rain, as Esmer had done.

Through the spatter on her face, she found that she could hear the distant mutter of hooves. While Stave confronted Esmer, and the Ramen waited in suspense, she wondered vaguely how Hyn and Hynyn alone made so much noise on the sodden grass.

"And this you name service," Stave countered. "Do you also call it sooth?" Esmer could have killed him where he stood, but he did not falter. "Speak truly, scion of Elo- I.

him. I have heard the contention in your words, and theirs. What have you urged of them that they refuse to countenance?"

Another swift change overtook Esmer. He seemed to shrink before Stave, almost cringing. "The urviles mean to accompany her, yet they insist that she will fail. Her purpose will serve their former master, whom they have betrayed. I have averred that she is the Wildwielder and must endure the outcome of her choices, but they do not relent."

More firmly, he added, "Also they do not trust me.

That is our dispute."

Then he turned to Linden; and the pressure of his regard-the sense of troubled seas mounting toward storms-pulled her attention away from the advancing rumble. Involuntarily she looked into the depths of his eyes as if she were capable of comprehending him.

The scale of his distress made her want to vomit.

Diffident again, he said like raindrops, "Wildwielder, they will oppose you if you do not permit them to heal you."

"'Heal'-?" Liand asked. "Are they able to do so? Does their lore encompass her affliction?"

To Linden, Esmer's words were indistinguishable from the sound of hooves. It seemed impossible that Hyn and Hynyn could be so loud. But Jeremiah was the Despiser's prisoner. As soon as the Ranyhyn arrived, she meant to ride straight down the throat of the Fall, and to hell with anyone or anything that stood in her way.

Esmer did not reply. Instead he stepped aside, barking dismissively to the urviles.

As if in answer, the wedge nudged its way forward, gently urging the Ramen aside until the loremaster stood directly in front of Linden.

The black creature was little more than an arm's length from her. The wide nostrils in the center of its eyeless face gaped for her scent wetly.

Liand quickly shifted to Linden's side; held her with his left arm so that his right was free to defend her. At the same time, Mahrtiir gave his fighting cord a snap and stepped closer. Bhapa and Pahni poised themselves to spring.

Stave now stood at Linden's shoulder opposite Liand, although she had not seen him move.

Somewhere behind them, Esmer laughed like a crash of surf.

"Ringthane," Manethrall Hami said urgently. "The Ramen know no ill of these urviles. Their service to the Render is many centuries past, and has not been renewed. Yet in your name we will oppose them, if that is your wish. Only speak so that we may know your desire.

"If you are too ill to answer," she warned Linden, "then I must believe that you require their healing."

Something was expected of her: Linden knew that. It plucked at her wordlessly. Liand and Stave, the Ramen, Esmer, the urviles: they all wanted something. Anele asked her for nothing because he could not. Nevertheless his madness made its own demands. Only the Ranyhyn were simply content to aid her. They had given her their warning in the horserite. Now they would keep their promises.

Unaware of what she did, she watched the encampment for Hyn and Hynyn. When they appeared, her heart lifted as it had when Mahrtiir had informed her of Esmer's caesure. The stars on their foreheads shone in spite of the gloom and moisture. No mere rainfall could dampen their glory.

And they were not alone. Other Ranyhyn, three, four, five of them, followed Hyn and Hynyn galloping between the shelters toward Linden and her companions.

Seven Ranyhyn. Stave and herself. Anele and Liand.

Mahrtiir, Bhapa, and Pahni. Of their own accord, the great horses offered all the help for which Linden could have asked.

No Raman had ever ridden a Ranyhyn; but she did not wish Mahrtiir and his Cords to refuse. The time had come to redefine old commitments.

Fever and sudden joy surged through her. As her heart rose, she raised her arms and her voice as well; shouted in celebration as well as welcome, "Yes!"

She did not see the loremaster produce a knife with a curved and burning blade as if the creature had created the weapon within its black flesh. Nor did she hear the urviles growling together as though in invocation. Power swelled through the wedge as the loremaster sliced open its palm, then cupped its fingers to catch the viscid welling of its ebony blood; but she took no notice of it.

She did not realize that the urviles had interpreted her cry as permission until the loremaster snatched at her arm, pulling her hand toward it.

In the brief shock before she remembered fear, Linden saw the blade glow like molten metal over her palm: ruddy and lambent; potent as ichor. Then, while she tried to snatch back her hand, the loremaster drew a line of red pain across the base of her thumb. At once, the creature upended its palm over hers; clasped its fingers around hers so their cuts and their blood met and mingled.

Liand struck at the ur-vile's wrist, but could not break its grip: the loremaster held the power of the whole wedge. At the same time, Mahrtiir flung his garrote around the loremaster's neck. Instantly a flash of vitriol and flame incinerated the cord.

Alone among Linden's immediate companions, Stave made no attempt to defend her. He may have believed that the urviles could prevent her from entering the caesure.

Her call of welcome to the Ranyhyn became a wail -which died in her throat as strength like a charge of coursers pounded from her hand up her arm into the center of her heart. Between one throb of her pulse and the next, she was exalted; translated from pain and fever and terror into a realm of illimitable possibilities; suffused with cascading health and vitality and life as though she had become Earthpower.

In that instant, she seemed suddenly equal to her fate.

The surge of transcendence vanished almost at once.

Yet its brevity was essential. If it had endured too long, she might have torn herself apart in sheer ecstasy.

Instead the rush of power left her shaken, simultaneously drained and galvanized, and shivering as if she were still feverish. But she was not ill now.

Oh, she was not. Instead she felt reborn, made new, positively redeemed: as fresh with potential as a sunrise.

She could not speak. Waves of renewal rolled through her, tumbling her into a confusion of tears and gratitude and yearning. Somewhere beyond her, Liand pleaded for her attention, although his healthsense must have told him that she was well. In the background, Stave and the Ramen welcomed the Ranyhyn, while Esmer exchanged imprecations or promises with the urviles. But she did not return to herself until she felt a hand plucking at her cloak and blinked her eyes clear to find Anele in front of her.

Thomas Covenant's love shone from him, as it had once before. Standing ankledeep in the sodden grass, he said to her in Covenant's familiar voice-but softly, softly, so that only she would hear him-"Go now, beloved. While you can. Just be wary of me.

Remember that I'm dead."

Beware the halfhand.

She stared at the old man, too surprised-and too entirely transformed-to react. Some part of her tried to cry out, but her heart had no words Then the light of possession disappeared from Anele's mien, snatched away by the sudden interruption of the loremaster. Before Linden could protest, the ur-vile reached out with its molten blade and flicked a small gouge in the thin flesh of Anele's forearm. Snuffling damply, the creature put its mouth to the wound and sucked.

With their lore, they will pierce the madman's confusion Anele suffered the loremaster's actions without protest or struggle: he seemed unaware of them. Covenant's brief presence must have reassured him. Mere days ago he had yelled in distress, Creatures make Anele remember!

Had the urviles themselves searched for the Staff of Law? For what purpose? Until the loremaster finished with the old man and stepped back, Linden did not notice that the Ranyhyn had grown restive.

They had arrived together as she had imagined them entering the dell for Elena's horserite; but now they separated, stamping their hooves and tossing their manes among the Ramen. Hyn came purposefully toward Linden: Hynyn approached Stave. The others ranged themselves before Anele and Liand, Mahrtiir and his Cords.

The three Ramen stared, stricken dumb, as star- browed horses urged them to mount.

As one, the throng drew back. Voices rose through the rain: whispers of astonishment; low cries of expostulation. Hami's eyes went wide and white as if her ready pride had become chagrin.

Responding to their people as well as to the Ranyhyn, Mahrtiir, Pahni, and Bhapa immediately prostrated themselves like supplicants in the sodden grass. They may have feared that what happened now would undermine the foundations of everything the Ramen had ever done; that the meaning of their lives might crack and fall.

No Raman had ever ridden a Ranyhyn-but nor had any Raman refused the will of the great horses.

Through the confusion of voices, the Ranyhyn made blowing noises that sounded like affectionate jeers as they lowered their heads to nudge at the three prone Ramen.

Linden watched Mahrtiir, Bhapa, and Pahni in suspense, afraid that none of them would move; that the caesure would overtake her before the Ramen could redefine themselves. But then the Manethrall shook himself as if he were gathering his courage and climbed unsteadily to his feet. His voice shook like Linden's as he announced, "The will of Ranyhyn is plain. We cannot serve the Ringthane-or the Land-if we do not ride."

The horses replied with a resounding whinny of approval.

"No Raman has ever done so," objected Hami thinly.

"No Ranyhyn," Mahrtiir answered, gaining strength, "has ever offered to bear a Raman "

Still Bhapa and Pahni remained prostrate. Like their people, they were caught in a contradiction that they could not resolve. Softly in the background, Esmer exchanged a harsh commentary with the urviles.

"Then let it be so," said a new voice; and Linden saw that Manethrall Dohn had moved to the forefront of crowd. His years and his scars gave him an air of authority. He did not speak loudly, but his words seemed to carry through the rain into the future. "Too long have the Ranyhyn and their Ramen been exiled from the Plains of Ra. Once in this place we determined that we would never again allow Fangthane to ravage the Ranyhyn. We have held to that promise. Yet now my heart misgives me. I fear that we have entered the last days of the Land. If we do not accept this opportunity to strike against the Render, we will be forever homeless."

For a moment longer, no one moved. Then Mahrtiir reached down abruptly, grabbed Pahni and Bhapa by the backs of their jerkins, and tugged them erect. "Up, Cords," he growled with hectic eagerness. "Are we craven, that we fear to give our lives a new meaning?"

Under her breath, Linden muttered, "Thank God."

Go now, beloved. While you can. She did not know how much longer she could contain the pressure building within her.

II.

As if Mahrtiir had broken a trance, all of the Ramen seemed to slough off their wonder and dismay. They looked around them; studied the sky; peered anxiously into the north. Singly and in groups, they turned back toward the encampment. Soon only Hami remained with Linden and her companions.

"Ringthane, we must depart," said the Manethrall.

Now that a decision had been reached, she seemed resigned to its implications. "We cannot withstand this Fall."

Linden turned toward the woman. "Then go, Hami.

Take care of yourselves. Protect the Ranyhyn. I'm grateful for everything you've done.

"I'll come back if I can," she told the concern in Hami's eyes. "If I can't, look for me in the Land.

You'll always be needed."

Hami's gaze clouded; and her throat worked as if she wished to say more. Instead, however, she bowed deeply, mutely, in the fashion of her people. After that, she wheeled and trotted away after the other Ramen.

Before he left, Char spoke privately to Mahrtiir.

Linden winced, thinking that Mahrtiir might rebuff the young Cord in some hurtful way. But then she saw Char offer his garrote to the Manethrall-and noticed as well that Mahrtiir's hands had been scorched in his attempt to throttle the loremaster.

Mahrtiir accepted Char's cord with taut grace.

Although his fingers hurt, he rum pled Char's hair: a quick gesture of affection. Then the Cord ran after the rest of the Ramen, and Mahrtiir turned to Bhapa and Pahni, and to the champing Ranyhyn. Satisfied and urgent, Linden faced Liand at last.

"Linden," he began like a man in shock, "I-"

She stopped him gently. "Liand, thank you. For everything." She felt almost frantic to be on her way.

Nevertheless she took the time to add, "I'm lucky I met you. If you decide you want to go with the Ramen, I'11 still consider myself lucky."

Her words seemed to pluck away his apprehensions.

"Are you mad?" he replied with a sudden grin. "Can you believe that I will let pass an occasion to cross time upon the back of a Ranyhyn? I have been too long a mere Stonedownor. Here I will become more than I was." He laughed. "I mean to teach Stave and the Masters the error of their mastery."

Linden nodded. What else could she do? She had already tried to dissuade him too often.

Hurrying now, she strode toward Hyn, calling over her shoulder, "Mahrtiir, it's time! We need to go."

Her senses had caught their first taste of the caesure. If it did not slacken its advance or drift aside, it would soon be visible to ordinary sight.

Mahrtiir came promptly to help her mount while Bhapa and Pahni guided Anele to the smallest of the Ranyhyn, a muscular pinto with flaring eyes and shaggy hocks whom they called Hrama. Linden worried that Anele might be afraid to ride; but some visceral interaction between Hrama's vitality and his own Earthpower seemed to calm him, and he did not protest as the Cords boosted him onto Hrama's back.

By the time Hyn had turned toward the north, Stave and Mahrtiir were mounted as well. The Manethrall looked exultant, elevated beyond himself, and crowded with anticipation. Stolidly Stave brought Hynyn to Hyn's side as Bhapa helped Liand vault onto a palomino stallion named Rhohm. Mahrtiir joined Linden opposite the Haruchai. Then Pahni and Bhapa sprang onto their own Ranyhyn, following behind Liand and Anele to ensure that no one fell back or was lost.

At the same time, the urviles changed their formation.

Running on all fours, they scattered around the riders to form a black ring with their loremaster in the lead.

As they did so, they chanted together like a chorus of dogs.

Once in position, the loremaster exchanged its ruddy blade for a pointed iron rod like a scepter or javelin; and from the metal, dark force flowed around the riders, enclosing them with vitriol.

Esmer had disappeared. Linden scanned the rain quickly, but felt no hint of him. Apparently he had simply folded his power around himself and winked away.