|Chapter 26: Fruition|
For a frozen splinter of time, Linden saw everything. Seadreamer's hands were closing on the branch. Covenant yearned forward as if he perceived the death in Seadreamer's eyes as clearly as she did. Cail supported the ur-Lord. The First, Pitchwife, and Honninscrave were in motion; but their running appeared slow and useless, clogged by the cold power in the air. The sunlight made them look at once vivid and futile.
She was alone in the western shadows with Vain and Findail. Percipience and reflected light rendered them meticulously to her. The Demondim-spawn's grin was as feral as a beast's. Waves of fear poured from Findail.
Disaster crouched in the cavern. It was about to strike. She felt it--all Lord Foul's manipulations coming to fruition in front of her. The atmosphere was rife with repercussions. But she could not move.
Then Seadreamer's hands closed.