Fatal Revenant

entered the Lower Land and Sarangrave Flat, and there they met the fate of their makers, for the Ravers gained power over them also.” Complex emotions seemed to tug like contrary winds at Esmer’s cymar, and his voice resembled the threat of thunder beyond the Westron Mountains. “Moksha Jehannum took possession of their loremaster, and turiya with him, luring the Vile-spawn to self- revulsion. Though the loremaster was later slain by the krill of Loric Vilesilencer, the harm was done. The Demondim also learned the loathing of trees, and so came to loathe themselves. Thus they met the doom of their makers, and the labours which created the ur-viles and the Waynhim began.

“Unlike the Viles, however, the Demondim were seduced to the Despiser’s service. Their makers had created within them an aspect of mortality and dross, and they were unable to perceive that the Despiser’s scorn toward them exceeded their own. Nor was their desire to follow the dictates of their loathing restricted by the Interdict. They acted upon the Upper Land while the Ravers were hidden from the Council of Lords, and the Despiser himself remained unknown.

“Throughout the years of Loric Vilesilencer and High Lord Kevin, the Demondim pursued evil in the Land, until at last they participated in the treachery which broke Kevin Landwaster’s resolve and led him to the Ritual of Desecration. That the Demondim themselves would also perish in the Ritual, they could not foresee, for they did not comprehend the disdain of their master. Therefore they were unmade.” The listening creatures had moved still closer. They seemed to hear Esmer with their nostrils as much as their ears. And as they approached, more and more of the Waynhim were mingled among the ur-viles. For the moment, at least, they had set aside their long enmity.

“For millennia thereafter,” Esmer sighed, “the ur-viles likewise served the Despiser and opposed the Lords, following in the steps of their makers, though the Waynhim chose another path. Yet the Demondim had accomplished both less and more than their purpose. The ur-viles and Waynhim were entirely enfleshed. For that reason, their blindness exceeded that of the Demondim-as did their inadvertent capacity for wisdom. Being imprisoned in mortality, they became heir to a power, or a need, which is inherent in all beings that think and may be slain. By their very nature, they were compelled to reconsider the significance of their lives. Flesh and death inspired the ur-viles and Waynhim to conceive differing Weirds to justify themselves-and to reinterpret their Weirds as they wished. In consequence, their allegiances were vulnerable to transmutation.” Linden recognised aspects of truth in what he said, but that did nothing to relieve her distress. Her mouth was full of bile and illness, and she did not know how much longer she could contain her nausea. Esmer’s conflicts aggravated it. The Demondim-spawn may have understood his intent: she did not.

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked abruptly. “It isn’t what I need. I have to know why the Demondim didn’t kill Jeremiah and Covenant. You said that Kastenessen convinced those monsters to let me escape. Did he do the same for my son and Covenant’?” A flare of anger like a glimpse of the IIIearth Stone showed in Esmer’s eyes. “And are you also ignorant,” he retorted, “that the Cavewights were once friendly to the people of the Land? I wish you to grasp the nature of such creatures. You inquire of Kastenessen, and I reply. That which appears evil need not have been so from the beginning, and need not remain so until the end.

“Doubtless your knowledge of Viles and Demondim and ur-viles has been gleaned from the Haruchai.” He had recovered his scorn. “Have they also informed you that when both the Viles and the Demondim had been undone, the ur-viles retained the lore of their making? Do you comprehend that the ur-viles continued to labour in the Lost Deep when all of their creators had passed away? Though the Waynhim did not arrogate such tasks to themselves, the ur-viles endeavoured to fashion miracles of lore and foresight which would alter the fate of their kind, and of the Land, and of the very Earth.” He had shaken Linden again. Holding the Staff in the crook of her arm, she pushed her fingers through the damp tangles of her hair: she wanted to push them through her thoughts in an effort to straighten out the confusion of Esmer’s indirect answers.

“Wait a minute,” she protested with her hands full of uncertainty. “Stave said-” He had said, Much of the black lore of the Viles and the Demondim endured to them-and much did not. Both Waynhim and ur-viles continued to dwindle. They created no descendants, and when they were slain nothing returned of them.

Esmer snorted. The Haruchai speak of that which they know, which is little. The truth has been made plain to you, for you have known Vain. You cannot doubt that the ur-viles pursued the efforts of their makers.

At the same time, however, more of these creatures”- he gestured around him- “came into being, both ur- viles and Waynhim. For that reason, I have been able to gather so many to your service.” Linden tried to interrupt him again; slow him down so that she could think. He overrode her harshly. Twisted by the contradictory demands of his heritage, he may still have been trying to answer her original question.

But the ur-viles have created other makings also. They did not cease their labours when they had formed Vain, for they were not content. Their reinterpretation of their Weird was not yet satisfied. Therefore they have made-” Suddenly he stopped as if he had caught himself on the edge of a precipice. Chagrin darkened his gaze as he stared at her, apparently unable or unwilling to look away.

“Made what?” Linden breathed softly. His manner alarmed her.

The ur-viles and Waynhim crowded closer. Ripples of dark power ran among them as if they were sharing intimations of vitriol; nascent outrage.

Linden unclosed the Staff from the crook of her arm and wrapped both of her hands around it. She had too many fears: she could not allow them to daunt her. “Made what”?” she repeated more strongly.

Esmer’s green eyes seemed to spume with anger or dread as he pronounced hoarsely, “Manacles.” She gaped at him in surprise. What, manacles? Fetters?

“Why?” she demanded. “Who are they for?” Or what?

Which of the powers abroad in the Land did the ur-viles hope to imprison?

He shook his head. At the same time, the creatures started barking again, arguing incomprehensibly in their guttural tongue. Some of them made gestures that may have been threats or admonitions. Force rolled through them, small wavelets of energy like ripples spreading outward from the impact of their inhuman emotions; but they did not seek to concentrate it.

Linden wanted to cover her ears. “What are they saying?” Her voice held an involuntary note of pleading. “Esmer, tell me.” At once, the froth of waves seemed to fill his eyes, concealing their deeper hues. They have heard me. They acknowledge my intent, though you do not. Now some debate the interpretation of their Weirds. Others demand that I explain their purpose further.” He folded his arms like bands across his chest. But I will not. The debt between us I have redeemed, and more. In this, there is no power sufficient to compel me.” Around him, the shouting of the creatures subsided to an angry mutter. Or perhaps their low sounds expressed resignation rather than ire.

Manacles-? In frustration, Linden wanted to hit him with the Staff. He still had not answered her question about his grandsire-or shed any light on the conundrum of Covenant and Jeremiah.

Struggling to keep her balance amid a gyre of information and implications which she did not know how to accommodate, she retreated to surer ground.

“All right. Forget the manacles. I don’t need to know.” Not now, when she had so many more immediate concerns. “Tell me something I can understand. How did you convince your ur-viles and Waynhim to come with you?’ She knew why her own small band had combined their efforts against the Demondim. Even now, however, she could not be certain that the truce between them would hold. And those with Esmer had not shared in her battles. “They’ve been enemies for thousands of years. Why have they set that aside?” Esmer raised one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. Closing his eyes, he massaged them briefly with his fingertips. As he did so, he replied in a tone of exaggerated patience, as if he had already answered her question in terms that even a child could comprehend.

“To the ur-viles, I offered opportunity to see fulfilled the mighty purpose which they began in the making of Vain. To the Waynhim, I promised a joining with their few kindred, that they might be powerful in the Land’s service.” Then he lowered his hand, letting her see the wind-tossed disturbance in his eyes. “And of both I required this covenant, that they must cease all warfare between them.” As if in assent, the creatures fell silent again.

Before Linden could ask another question, Esmer added, “Wildwielder, you exhaust my restraint. You have demanded answers. I have provided them, seeking to relieve the darkness of my nature. But one of the Haruchai approaches from that place”- again he indicated Revelstone- “and I will not suffer his presence. I cannot. Already my heart frays within me. Soon it will demand release. If I do not depart, I