The Wounded Land

surface.

Instantly, Sunder was snatched out of sight.

Twenty feet away, he heaved up again, with a massive serpent body locked around his hips and neck. Gleaming scales covered strength enough to snap his back like a dry stick.

All the celerity of the Haruchai seemed insignificant to Covenant. He saw Stell release his sack, crouch, start a long dive forward, as if each piece of the action were discrete, time-consuming. Ceer carried no sack; he was one fraction of a heartbeat ahead of Stell. Hollian's mouth stretched toward a scream. Every one of the reeds was distinct and terrible. The water had the texture of filthy wool. Covenant saw it all: wet scales; coils knotted to kill; Ceer and Stell in the first reach of their dives; Hollian's mouth-

Marid! A man with no mouth, agony in his eyes, snakes for arms. Fangs agape for Linden's face. Sunder. Marid. Fangs fixed like nails of crucifixion in Covenant's right forearm.

Venom.

In that instant, he became a blaze of fury.

Before Ceer and Stell covered half the distance, Covenant fried the coils straining Sunder's back. Wild magic burned the flesh transparent, lit spine, ribs, entrails with incandescence.

Linden let out a cry of dismay.

The serpent's death throes wrenched Sunder underwater.

Ceer and Stell dove into the convulsions. They disappeared, then regained their feet, with the Graveller held, gasping, between them. Dead coils thudded against their backs as they bore Sunder out of danger.

All Covenant's power was gone, snuffed by Linden's outcry. Cold gripped the marrow of his bones. Visions of green children and suffocation. Bloody hell.

His companions gaped at him. Linden's hands squeezed the sides of her head, fighting to contain her fear. Covenant expected her to shout abuse at him. But she did not. “It's my fault.” Her voice was a low rasp. “I should have seen that thing.”

“No.” Stell spoke as if he were immune to contradiction. 'It came when you had passed. The fault is mine. The Graveller was in my care.'

Hellfire, Covenant groaned uselessly. Hell and damnation.

With an effort, Linden jerked down her hands and forced herself to the Graveller's side. He breathed in short gasps over the pain in his chest. She examined him for a moment, scowling at what she perceived. Then she muttered, “You'll live.” Outrage and helplessness made her voice as bitter as bile.

The Haruchai began to move. Stell retrieved his sack. Brinn reformed the line of the company. Holding herself rigid, Linden took her place. They went on through the swamp.

They tried to hurry. But the water became deeper, holding them back. Its cold rank touch shamed Covenant's skin. Hollian could not keep her feet; she had to cling to Ham's sack and let him pull her. Sunder's injury made him wheeze as if he were expiring.

But finally the reeds gave way to an open channel; and a short distance beyond it lay a sloping bank of marshgrass. The bottom dropped away. The company had to swim.

When they gained solid ground, they saw that all their apparel was covered with a slick brown slime. It stank in Covenant's nostrils. Linden could not keep the nausea off her mien.

With characteristic dispassion, the Haruchai ignored their uncleanliness. Brinn stood on the bank, studying the west. Hergrom moved away until he reached a tree he could climb. When he returned, he reported flatly that none of the green acid-creatures were in sight.

Still the company hurried. Beyond the slope, they dropped into a chaos of stunted copses and small poisonous creeks which appeared to run everywhere without moving. Twilight came upon them while they were still winding through the area, obeying Linden's strident command to let no drop of the water touch them.

In the dusk, they saw the first sign of pursuit. Far behind them among the copses was a glimpse of emerald. It disappeared at once. But no one doubted its meaning. “Jesus God,” Linden moaned. “I can't stand it.”

Covenant cast an intent look at her. But the gloaming obscured her face. The darkness seemed to gnaw at her features.

In silence, the quest ate a meal and tried to prepare to flee throughout the night.

Dark tensed about them as the sunset was cut off by Landsdrop. But then, strangely, the streams began to emit light. A nacreous glow, ghostly and febrile, shone out of the waters like diseased phosphorescence. And this light, haunting the copses with lines of pearly filigree, seemed to flow, though the water had appeared stagnant. The glow ran through the region, commingling and then separating again like a web of moonlight, but tending always toward the northeast.

In that direction, some distance away, Sarangrave Flat shone brightly. Eldritch light marked the presence of a wide radiance.

Covenant touched Brinn's arm, nodding toward the fire. Brinn organized the company, then carefully led the way forward.

Darkness made the distance deceptive; the light was farther away than it appeared to be. Before the questers covered half the intervening ground, tiny emerald fires began to gather behind them. Shifting in and out of sight as they passed among the copses, the acid-creatures stole after the company.

Covenant closed his mind to the pursuit, locked his gaze on the silver ahead. He could not endure to think about the coining attack-the attack which he had made inevitable.

Tracking the glow lines of the streams as if they were a map, Brinn guided the quest forward as swiftly as his caution permitted.

Abruptly, he stopped.

Pearl-limned, he pointed ahead. For a moment, Covenant saw nothing. Then he caught his breath between his teeth to keep himself still.

Stealthy, dark shapes were silhouetted between the company and the light. At least two of them, as large as saplings.

Firmly, Hergrom pressed Covenant down into a crouch. His companions hid against the ground. Covenant saw Brinn gliding away, a shadow in the ghost-shine. Then the Haruchai was absorbed by the copses and the dark.

Covenant lost sight of the moving shapes. He stared toward where he had last seen them. How long would Brinn take to investigate and return?

He heard a sound like a violent expulsion of breath.

Instinctively, he tried to jump to his feet. Hergrom restrained him.

Something heavy fell through underbrush. Blows were struck. The distance muffled them; but he could hear their strength.

He struggled against Hergrom. An instant later, the Haruchai released him. The company rose from hiding. Cail and Ceer moved forward. Stell and Harn followed with the Stonedownors.

Covenant took Linden's hand and pulled her with him after Sunder.

They crossed two streams diagonally, and then all the glowing rills lay on their right. The flow of silver gathered into three channels, which ran crookedly toward the main light. But the quest had come to firm ground. The brush between the trees was heavy. Only the Haruchai were able to move silently.

Near the bank of the closest stream, they found Brinn. He stood with his fists on his hips. Nacre reflected out of his flat eyes like joy-He confronted a figure twice as tall as himself. A figure like a reincarnation in the eldritch glow. A dream come to life. Or one of the Dead.

A Giant!

“The old tellers spoke truly,” Brinn said. “I am gladdened.” The Giant folded his thick arms over his chest, which was as deep and solid as the trunk of an oak. He wore a sark of mail, formed of interlocking granite discs, and heavy leather leggings. Across his back, he bore a huge bundle of supplies. He had a beard like a fist. His eyes shone warily from under massive brows. The blunt distrust of his stance showed that he and Brinn had exchanged blows-and that he did not share Brinn's gladness.

“Then you have knowledge which I lack.” His voice rumbled like stones in a subterranean vault. “You and your companions.” He glanced over the company. “And your gladness”- he touched the side of his jaw with one hand — “is a weighty matter.”