Thomas Covenant 8 - The Fatal Revenant (24 page)

the gloom, the advance of daylight gave definition to the landscape, clarifying the contours of the hills, distancing the darkness among the trees. Yet she hardly noticed such things. I can’t—

But first I’ll have to convince Linden-When she had resisted his desire for his ring, however, he had insisted on nothing except a little bit of trust. From that, Liand had inferred that Covenant still had a use for her.

But Covenant himself had said nothing of the kind.

Until now.

As he or the Masters led her past a cluster of gnarled and vaulted jacarandas, Linden caught sight of a river in the distance ahead. There Glimmermere’s outflow gathered rain and small streams in its accelerating rush toward Furl Falls. The wind stung her eyes, forced her to shade them

with her free hand. But when she had blinked the blur from her vision, she saw the river clearly. Along the watercourse, the hills seemed to bow down in homage to Glimmermere’s waters. Apart from a few knaggy firs clinging to the rim of the cliff, there were no trees. From the vicinity of the falls, nothing would obstruct her view for a long stone’s throw in any direction.

The terrain offered that advantage.

Findail’s kind, and Kastenessen’s, could appear anywhere, flowing up from the ground without warning, or materializing along the rough wind. And Esmer had inherited some of their abilities. But other foes would be plainly visible. Even the Demondim-and they could not reach the plateau without first defeating Revelstone.

In spite of Covenant’s warnings, however, Linden was only vaguely troubled by the possibility of an attack.

She still felt sustained by vitrim. At need, she might find a way to defend herself and her companions without endangering Covenant and Jeremiah. Under the circumstances, she was more afraid of Covenant’s manner-and of Jeremiah’s strange powers.

I can’t do it—

Neither the Unbeliever nor her son loved her. Covenant had been profoundly altered by his millennia in

the Arch of Time. And Jeremiah’s heart was fixed on the man who had made it possible for him to be here.

He was the best.-the only real friend—

And he needed her-Did he have a design for the salvation of the Land? A plan that included her? Good. But if he did not, she still intended to learn the truth about him. And about her tormented son.

Gripping her courage, she descended the last slopes toward the vicinity of Furl Falls.

Covenant brought her within a dozen strides of the riverbank, then stopped. “This’ll do,” he said stiffly to Jeremiah. “Don’t you think’?”

Jeremiah tossed his racecar into the air as if he were testing the force of the wind. Then he tucked the bright red toy into the waistband of his pajamas. “It

feels right. If we can’t do it here, we probably can’t do it at all.”

Covenant nodded. The wind rumpled his hair and tugged at his clothes, making him look as wild and driven as a prophet.

Without apparent hurry, the Masters positioned themselves in an arc that enclosed Covenant, Jeremiah, and Linden’s small company between the riverbank and the edge of the cliff. At

the same time, Galt joined Branl, Clyme, and Handir in front of Covenant. He was the ur-Lord, the reincarnation of Berek Halfhand. The Voice of the Masters and the Humbled stood with him. And Linden did not doubt that they remained suspicious of her. They distrusted Earthpower and loss-Gusts flicked her tresses across her eyes. Pulling back her wet hair, she risked taking a step closer to Covenant.

If he wanted a “smoke screen” to disguise his actions, he had chosen his destination well. Glimmermere’s outflow still held a measure of its eldritch vitality: its supernal energies sang to her senses. But it was much diluted; too weak to banish him and her son.

“All right,” she said against the wind. “We’re here. What are you going to do’?”

“Enjoy the view,” he replied acidly. Her question appeared to offend him. Or perhaps he felt threatened by her nearness. But then he relented. “I’m sorry. You’re right. We should get started. I’m just about at the end of what I can do.

“But don’t ask me to explain it.” His gaze held hers for an instant, then shied away. During that moment, however, she saw no fire in his eyes. Instead she seemed to detect a

transitory glint of anticipation or fear. “I haven’t got the time or the energy. And I’m tired of the way you look at me. Like I’m about to rape somebody. Do what I tell you, and I’ll show you how I’m going to save all of us.”

A little bit of trust. Slowly Linden nodded her acquiescence. What else could she do? She needed answers; needed to understand-If she refused Covenant now, she might lose her only chance to redeem her son.

At once, he commanded, “Then make your friends stand back. They’re in the way. This doesn’t include them.”

Before she could reply, Mahrtiir stepped forward. Ominously relaxed, Stave balanced his weight on the balls of his feet. Liand curled his hands into fists at his sides.

“You are the Unbeliever,” the

Manethrall rasped. “Once you were the Ringthane. In this, we do not doubt

you. But we stand with Linden Avery. That which falls to her will fall to us as well, for good or ill.”

From his place between Pahni and Bhapa, Anele announced firmly, “I no longer fear the ur-viles.”

Instantly angry, Covenant snapped. “Hellfire, Linden! This is important. I need your goddamn friends to get out of my way.”

His eyes remained shrouded, revealing nothing.

“Linden,” said Liand softly. The

mounting moan of the wind snatched at his voice. “I mislike this. How is it that a man who once loved you spurns your friends?”

As if to protect her, Stave placed himself squarely between Linden and Covenant. His single eye regarded her intently.

“Chosen, the Masters will support the ur-Lord in this. If you do not oppose him, they will not oppose you. But he is the Unbeliever, the Illender. The Giants have named him Earthfriend and Rockbrother. The Lords of old entrusted him with the Land’s doom. If he requests it of them, the Masters will aid him.”

Linden heard him. The Masters would use force-And they were too many: Stave, Liand, and the Ramen could not

fight them. She would lose everything that might be gained by cooperating with Covenant.

She might cost Jeremiah his

redemption.

I can’t do it without you.

The boy moved so that she could see him past Stave and Covenant. His young face wore an expression of pleading which was almost

desperation. “Please, Mom,” he said tensely. “We need this. It has to be just you.”

His tic signaled to her in a code that she could not decipher.

-if you do not fall the perils which have been prepared for you.

Deliberately Linden turned away from Covenant and Jeremiah and the assembled Masters. With a gesture,

she gathered her friends around her. Vitrim and the Staff of Law gave her the strength to say. “Listen. I know how you feel. I don’t like this any better than you do. But it’s a risk that we have to take. Covenant says that he can save the Land.” He can save my son. “If he fails, I’m not exactly helpless. And you won’t be far away.

“I’m not asking you to trust him. Hell, I’m not even asking you to trust me.” She smiled grimly. “I just think that we

can’t afford to miss this chance.”

One by one, she looked around at the people who had chosen to share her fate.

Liand ducked his head as if he were abashed. Mahrtiir glared at her, fierce with disapproval. Stave’s scarred visage revealed nothing. Bhapa frowned like a man who agreed absolutely with his Manethrall. But Pahni’s gaze was fixed on Liand as

though she feared for him; wanted him to comply with Covenant’s demand. And Anele’s blind eyes watched the north as if it held secrets that only he could discern.

At last, Stave said flatly. “I see no other road.” And Mahrtiir muttered. “Nor do I.”

Liand flung a look like an appeal at Linden, but he did not protest. Instead he went abruptly to help Pahni draw

Anele away from Covenant and Jeremiah, away from Linden.

With a tight shrug, Bhapa joined Mahrtiir and Stave as they retreated perhaps a dozen paces. There Linden’s companions stood in a loose cluster, holding themselves in abeyance.

All of her friends except the old man followed Linden with their eyes as she faced Covenant and Jeremiah again.

More angrily than she intended, she asked; demanded, Are you satisfied?” She felt an inexplicable bereavement, as if like Kastenessen she had maimed herself with her own pain.

She wanted to add, I remember a time when you weren’t like this. But she also recalled vividly that he had rejected the company of the Haruchai when he had left Revelstone to seek out the Despiser. He had always been severe in his purposes-and stubbornly

determined to spare as many people as possible from sharing the price of his actions.

He may have been trying to spare her friends, despite his ire and scorn—

The Unbeliever did not reply directly. He seemed to be in a hurry now, driven to complete his purpose. Instead of answering her, he pointed at a spot on the grass one long stride in front of him and ordered. “Stand there. And don’t

touch us. Don’t let that damn Staff touch us. If we feel even a reminder of power from you, this whole thing is going to unravel.”

The wind raised an unsteady wailing among the distant trees. It cut at the wet grass; lashed fine spray from the surface of the river. For a moment, it whipped at Linden’s eyes, blinding her with tears. If for no other reason than because Covenant was afraid of her, she wanted to call up Earthpower and

Law. Then she would learn the truth in an instant-

-and she would sacrifice her best opportunity to succor Jeremiah. Perhaps her only opportunity.

Rubbing moisture from her eyes with the back of her hand, she moved to stand where her former lover had indicated. There she planted one heel of the Staff near her boots and hugged the incorruptible wood against her

chest.

At once, Covenant and Jeremiah separated. Her son came to stand in front of her scarcely more than an arm’s length away. His smile may have been intended to reassure her; but the frantic twitching at the corner of his eye made him appear feverish with excitement or dread. His muddy gaze seemed to blur in the wind, losing definition as the air whipped past him.

At the same time, Covenant positioned himself directly behind Linden, facing her and Jeremiah. Like her son, he stood nearly close enough to reach out and touch her.

I can’t do it—

Jeremiah glanced past her toward Covenant; nodded at what he saw. His smile fell away, replaced by an expression of intent concentration. His mouth moved as if he were speaking,

although he made no sound that she could hear. Still he and Covenant were closed to her health-sense. She felt the knotted anxiety and frustration of her friends more acutely than the presence of Covenant or Jeremiah. Only ordinary sight assured her that her son and his companion in fact stood near her.

I can’tThe Masters tightened their cordon, perhaps preparing to intervene if they

saw any sign of her power-or if her friends attempted to intrude.

Slowly, and apparently in unison, Jeremiah and Covenant began to raise their arms, holding their fingers splayed. For an instant, Jeremiah’s hands seemed to point straight at Covenant’s through Linden’s shoulders. But their arms continued to rise until together the two men implied an arch over her head.

-the perils which have been prepared—

Without warning, Anele proclaimed, “I have said that I no longer fear the urŹviles! Did you not heed me?”

At the edge of her vision, Linden caught a glimpse of blackness to the north, upstream beside the river. Instinctively she turned to squint across the wind in that direction.

A tight black wedge of ur-viles had appeared with startling suddenness. They might have been translated from some other realm of existence, although Linden knew that they had only concealed themselves until they were ready to be noticed. Their loremaster brandished an iron jerrid or scepter fraught with vitriol: the entire formation was a seethe of power, bitter and corrosive. And the wedge seemed huge—Every ur-vile that she and Esmer had brought to this time must

have joined together, united by some new interpretation of their Weird. Scores of glowing blades flashed among them, as cruel as lava, and as fatal.

They charged toward the poised arc of Masters, running hard. In seconds, they would be near enough to strike. Yet Linden believed instantly that their assault was not intended for the Haruchai. Handir and his kinsmen merely stood in the way.

The point of the wedge was aimed straight at her-or at Covenant and Jeremiah. The loremaster’s weapon spat acrid theurgy and ruin as the creatures rushed forward.

They had created manacles—

Frozen with shock, she had stared at them for two quick heartbeats, or three, before she realized that there were no Waynhim among them. She saw no Waynhim anywhere. Apparently the

ancient servants of the Land had declined to participate in the actions of their black kindred. But if they had not chosen to join the ur-viles, they also did not interfere.

What had their complex intentions required of them now?

If the manacles were intended for Covenant, and the ur-viles were trustworthy, then he was not.

If. If. If.

But the Demondim-spawn could not tell Linden how to reach her son.

Liand and Bhapa shouted warnings. Jeremiah dropped his arms, plainly stricken with dismay. At Linden’s back, Covenant snarled, “Hell and blood!” Then he yelled at the Masters. “Stop them! We’ve been betrayed!”

The Haruchai had already spun to face

the wedge. At Covenant’s command, they moved to intercept the ur-viles.

They were potent and supremely skilled. Nevertheless they were too few to do more than slow the advance of the creatures.

Linden had time to think, Betrayed. Yes. But not by the ur-viles. Suddenly her guts were filled with the nausea that bespoke Esmer’s nearness.

Looking around wildly, she saw him step out of the air on the far side of the river.