"I am changing to Earth now," she says aloud. "One third of the way there, Nav."

The differentiation is harder; uglier, for Harrow. Her mind is filled with images of the earth reclaiming not just generic energy or life, but Gideon specifically. Gideon's niche on the Ninth. Gideon's bones hoeing snow-leeks for a century without respite. The taste of bile fills her mouth and makes her want to spit. Physically, she feels much better than channeling from Moiraine, but all she wants to do is stop and check on Gideon.

But if she loses the thread now, this was for nothing; as with the avulsion field challenge, that knowledge motivates and hardens her.

Earth, Earth to erode the difference between here and there. Earth to bring them together. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

"Two thirds," she says. "We're doing it, Gideon."