Fatal Revenant

The ur-viles and Waynhim may have been asking Linden what she wanted them to do.

“I am able to interpret their speech as well as the mere-son,” said the Harrow with a suggestion of smugness. “Though they recognise that you do not comprehend them, they strive to inform you that I possess the knowledge to unmake them. Also they fear my purpose, just as they fear my attacker’s. In the name of their Weird, however, they will give of their utmost to preserve you, ignoring the certainty of failure and doom.”

Linden stared at him. “Wait a minute. You understand them?”

She had made a promise to the Waynhim and the ur-viles. If the Harrow could kill them all-

“Lady,” he replied. “I repeat that I have made a considerable study of such beings. I have pored over the Demondim, as you know, but also over both their makers and their makings. These spawn are corporeal. Therefore they are not as readily unbound as the Demondim. Yet they may be erased from life by one who has gleaned the secrets of their creation.

“Behold.”

With one hand, the Harrow performed a florid gesture as if he were drawing mystic symbols in the air. With the other, he stroked the umber beads of his doublet.

Suddenly one of the ur-viles at the edge of the wedge near him slumped. As he gestured, the creature appeared to sag into itself as if it were being corroded by its own acrid blood. In moments, it had become a frothing puddle of blackness in the ploughed dirt and shale.

From Esmer came a sound like the sighing of water over jagged rocks. A blast seemed to gather around him as if he were mustering seas.

“They will wield dark theurgies against me,” said the Harrow like a shrug. “However, I am not troubled. I have expended much to garner difficult knowledge. It will suffice to ward me.”

What I seek, lady, is to possess your instruments of power.

Far too late, Linden shouted. “Stop that! God damn you, I promised them!” The liquid remains of the ur-vile bubbled and steamed, denaturing quickly. Soon it had evaporated. “Do it again, and I’ll make a caesure for Esmer to use against you!”

She was bluffing: she could not draw on Covenant’s ring while Esmer stood nearby. Cail’s son knew it. She gambled that the Insequent did not.

In response, he laughed. “A dire threat, lady, but empty. You are known to me. Your desire for the service which I am able to perform will outweigh other avowals.”

“Then,” Linden snapped hotly. “you had better explain yourself. And make it fast. If you know me even half as well as you think, you know that I’m sick of being manipulated. I am not going to put up with it.”

He had already cost her the Mahdoubt. He had put the villagers in danger to obtain her aid against the Fall; to coerce her. Now he had slain an ur-vile. And by summoning the Demondim, Esmer had caused the deaths of dozens of Masters, ur-viles, and Waynhim. He had helped Roger and the croyel snatch her out of her proper time. Clearly he had been willing to cause the deaths of the Woodhelvennin in order to snare the Harrow.

Moving slowly, Liand brought Rhohm to Mahrtiir’s side. In his hand, he still cupped the orcrest. The Sunstone shone again: it burned like a clean star in his palm, brilliant and ineffable. Its white light seemed to exalt him, limning both his youth and his resolve.

“Perhaps a test of truth, Linden’?” he suggested. His voice shook, but his hand held steady.

Behind Linden, Pahni radiated apprehension. Yet she stayed with Anele, watching over the old man while he slept on Hrama’s back.

“No!” Esmer shouted in a voice that resounded as though it echoed back to him from tall cliffs. “Uncaring Insequent, your purpose is an abomination!” Energy accumulated around him, imminent and potent. If he released it, it would hit like a cyclone. “You will not speak.”

The Harrow cocked a scornful eyebrow. “How will I be prevented? Your power is great, mere-son. You have inherited much. Doubtless I might be slain, were I unable to step aside. Yet here there is no caesure to constrain me. Undisturbed by such forces, I may pass where and how I will. Strike as you choose. I will not remain to receive your blow.”

“Flee if you dare,” countered Esmer. “I am the descendant of Elohim. I will harry you to the outermost verge of the Earth.”

“You will not,” the Harrow snorted. “You are bound to the lady. Also you are no true Elohim. Your mortal blood cannot withstand her Staff. She will defend me because she must. She greatly desires my service. And when her fire is raised against you, it will scour you to the marrow of your bones. If you do not perish, you will be made helpless, for good or ill.”

Esmer’s and the Harrow’s threats were loud. Linden spoke softly. “A test of truth. I like it.” I wish I could spare you. Hell, I wish any of us could spare you. The thought that she might be risking Liand’s life made her heart quail, but she betrayed no hesitation. “Does one of you want to volunteer? Should I choose for you?”

She had no idea what would happen. As far as she knew, both Liand and the orcrest would crumble. But she needed to counter the animosity between Esmer and the Harrow. She had to understand their fear or loathing toward each other. And she wanted at least one of them to give her an honest explanation.

She thought that she saw a flicker of uncertainty in the shrouded emerald of Esmer’s gaze. His incipient storm wavered. And the Harrow seemed troubled by her proposal.

Or by something else-

Unexpectedly Galt announced. It is needless to hazard the Stonedownor, or the orcrest.” He and the other Humbled had joined Linden’s defenders. He spoke to her, although his gaze was fixed on the Harrow. “This Insequent has defeated us once. But he has forgotten that Brinn of the Haruchai surpassed ak-Haru Kenaustin Ardenol in single combat. Knowing the Harrow, we will not again fail against him.”

Linden expected Esmer and the Harrow to react with scorn; but she was wrong. Suddenly vindicated or alarmed, Esmer took a few steps backward. Ignoring Galt, the Harrow turned the caves of his eyes to the east, past Linden and her companions.

With an air of insouciance, the Insequent informed the empty air, “This is a petty chicane. You are indeed reduced without the aid and knowledge of the croyel. I concede that your glamour is potent, extending as it does to conceal so many. But such ploys do not become you. If you claim the stature to stand among this company, more valour will be required of you.”

“Talk’s cheap, asshole,” retorted Roger.

Twenty or thirty paces in the direction of the Harrow’s gaze, Covenant’s son appeared as if he had stepped through an imperceptible portal.

“Run while you can,” he continued. As he unveiled himself to her senses, Linden felt the seething rage of his right hand, Kastenessen’s hand; magma and fury free of dross, distilled down to their essential savagery. If you don’t, I’m going to fry your bones. Then I think we’ll all eat that silly horse of yours.”

He did not have Jeremiah with him. Still Linden’s heart ached as if she had been spurned.

“Indeed?” The Harrow’s tone was a snarl of mockery. The lady will not permit it. And I will aid her against you, as will these many Demondim-spawn.”

“I know,” Roger spat. “That’s why I didn’t come alone.”

With a gesture that left a reeking wail across Linden’s sight, he unwrapped his glamour from an army of Cavewights.

Instinctively she cried out for power; and the Staff answered with a clarion spout of flame.

She had seen such creatures before, in the Wightwarrens under Mount Thunder. They were formed for delving, with huge spatulate hands like mattocks and heads that resembled battering rams; disproportionately long scrawny limbs; hunched torsos and protruding ribs. Standing erect, they were nearly as tall as Giants. Because their arms and legs were so thin, she might have expected them to be weak; but she already knew their strength. Although they could crawl in improbable spaces, they were mighty diggers, able to gouge and crush rocks in their