Fatal Revenant

By slow degrees, dawn leaked though the receding storm; dissolved the darkness over the plateau. Now stands of trees were visible on either side of the route chosen by the Masters: copses of mimosa and wattle, clustered cedars, all dark, shrouded with rain and full of implied secrets. Any number of lorewise beings could have concealed themselves there, and Linden would have caught no hint of them.

She shook her head. “I don’t understand. If Kastenessen wants to stop you, why would the Elohim want the same thing’?” Esmer had told her that they expected her to deal with Kastenessen and the skurj. Are you not the Wildwielder? What then remains to cause the Elohim concern? “They Appointed him to stop the skurj. In fact, they forced him. They made him a prisoner. Why would they want what he wants now?’

“You’re right,” replied Covenant sharply. “You don’t understand.

Especially Kastenessen.”

With elaborate patience, he explained, “You need to realise that he didn’t break his Durance. He didn’t have that much actual power. No, he slipped out. Which he managed to do by becoming part skurj himself.” While Linden stared at him, Covenant muttered as if to himself. “He probably got the idea from Foul. The Despiser loves shit like that.”

Then he resumed his explanation. “Oh, the effect was the same. No more Durance. But the point is, it was hideously painful. Merging with the skurj, even a little bit-It was more painful than you can imagine. Hell and blood, Linden, it probably makes what Jeremiah is going through feel like a picnic.”

“He’s right, Mom,” Jeremiah put in with as much earnestness as his excitement allowed. He was tossing his racecar back and forth between his hands as he walked, catching it deftly with his remaining fingers. “I saw it. Before you came to the Land. It’s horrible. If I ever have to choose”- he shuddered dramatically- “I’ll stay where I am.”

Still studying the rain-matted grass, Covenant nodded. Now Kastenessen is all pain. It’s made him completely insane. There’s nothing else left. And rage is his only outlet. Everything he does is just another way of screaming.

“But he can’t rage hard enough to stop the pain. No one can. Not for long, anyway. So he does what any lunatic does in his situation. He causes himself more pain, trying to make his rage more powerful. Being part skurj isn’t excruciating enough, so he surrounds himself with them, he makes them carry out his rage. And when that doesn’t work, he maims-”

Covenant’s voice trailed away. “Maims what?’ Linden asked at once.

“Himself, of course,” the Unbeliever snorted. “It doesn’t matter what he hurts. All that matters is pain and rage. He’s a walking, talking apotheosis of pain, and nothing is going to make him sane again. I intend to put him out of his misery, but he just doesn’t understand. He can’t. His pain is all he’s got. He’s terrified of losing it. That’s why he wants to stop me.

“If he figures out what’s about to happen, he’ll go berserk. He can’t bring the skurj against us fast enough to make a difference. But he’s still Elohim: He can show up anywhere in a heartbeat. And you do not want to fight that kind of power.”

Abruptly Covenant stopped; turned so that Linden was forced to face him. Again she saw a glimpse of embers in the depths of his eyes, ruddy and threatening. The strict lines of his visage seemed to challenge her. While Stave watched him warily, and her friends crowded close to hear him, the Unbeliever told her harshly. “That’s what I’ve been doing all night.” He seemed to suggest that she had been wasting her time on trivialities. “Distracting Kastenessen. Confusing him with tricks, like I did to the Demondim.”

All right.” Linden struggled to absorb Covenant’s description. “Now it makes even less sense. If you’re right about Kastenessen”- if his condition resembled Joan’s- “how can the Elohim possibly want what he wants?”

“Damnation.” Covenant wiped at the rain on his face; rubbed the hint of fire out of his eyes. “They have different reasons. Kastenessen is just screaming. He hurts, and he wants to fill the world with it. The Elohim don’t trust me. They never have. As far as they’re concerned, the fact that I’m part of the Arch-that I can do the things I do-is a disaster.

Time is too important to them. Their immortality depends on it. They don’t want anybody who even remembers what death means to have the kind of power I do. So they don’t want me to stop Foul. They’re afraid I might change the shape of the Arch. The shape of their Wurd They’re afraid of what that might cost them.

Of course, they’re wrong. I’m not here to change Time. I protect it. That’s my job. But they don’t believe me.”

“He’s right, Mom,” Jeremiah said again. But he sounded far away, hidden behind Covenant.

A sharp gust snatched back the hood of Linden’s cloak, flung rain into her face. Among the trees, the wind droned with trepidation.

Turning as if in disgust, Covenant strode away. “Come on,” he demanded before Linden could try to understand him. “I can’t keep this up indefinitely. And I can’t do it without you.”

Linden nearly stumbled in surprise. Until that moment, he had not acknowledged that she was important to him; that he sought anything from her except his ring.

She hastened to catch up with him again. But when she did so, she found that he had silenced her. I can’t do it-Realities seemed to shift around her, veering from one uncertainty to another. Over the plateau, the rain declined to a thin drizzle that would have felt as soothing as mist if it had not been driven by the wind. Through 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 materialising 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