‘When the fires take the sea,’ Narad said, seeing once again that terrible shoreline where he had walked. The hand on his shoulder held him with a savagely tight grip now, sending pain lancing through him. ‘Upon the shoreline,’ he said. ‘There, when you ask it of us, we will stand.’ ‘In whose name?’ Caladan asked. ‘Hers,’ Narad replied. The Deniers shouted, in fury, in outrage. But Narad opened his eyes and met Lord Anomander’s startled gaze. And said, a second time, ‘Hers.’ He watched as Caladan reached out, grasped hold of Lord Anomander’s left arm, and dragged the Son of Darkness out from
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