Fatal Revenant

“Are you ready?” demanded Covenant. “Hellfire, Linden, it’s not that hard. I did it, and I didn’t have your damn Staff.”

She ignored the embers glaring in his eyes; did not risk gazing directly at his fiery halfhand. Instead she looked at her son. Facing the hunger which distorted the colour of his irises, the fervid clutch of his halfhand around his racecar, the frantic cipher of his tic, she tried to accept them, and found that she could not.

Silently, hardly moving her lips, she said, If I’m wrong, I’m sorry. Try to forgive me.

Then she threw herself headlong toward her companions; stretched out into a dive along the glazed surface of the stone.

In a flare of brimstone surprise and fury, both Covenant and Jeremiah leapt aside. Cursing viciously, Covenant hugged the tunnel wall opposite the rill of EarthBlood. Tense with shock, Jeremiah did the same. Neither of them lost their footing.

Linden landed heavily; skidded past them. As she hit the stone, she slid, and went on sliding, as if she would never stop. She felt only the impact: no friction, no abrasion; nothing that would slow her. She wanted that. She counted on it. Otherwise Covenant and Jeremiah might get ahead of her again.

But her slide took her closer to the rivulet. She did not know what would happen if she plunged into the Blood of the Earth, but she doubted that she would survive an immersion. More by instinct than intention, she dragged one heel of the Staff along the stone.

The iron seemed to meet no resistance. Nevertheless she began to lose momentum. Within half a dozen paces-and mere inches from the rill-she coasted to a halt.

Covenant’s curses followed her down the tunnel. They drew closer as he and Jeremiah rushed to catch up with her.

Shedding incessant tears, Linden called yellow flame like sunshine out of the Staff; a sheet of fire from the entire length of the wood. For an instant, her fire guttered as if it were humbled in the EarthBlood’s presence. Then it shone forth strongly. And while her blaze lit the tunnel, she used that exertion of Earthpower to secure her footing so that she could stand. Then she wheeled to confront her companions as though they had become her foes.

Covenant stamped to a halt a few paces away from her. The fire had fallen out of his hand: he stood glaring at her with no light on his visage except hers. Jeremiah came a step closer, then stopped as well. His precious face was bright with dismay.

“Hellfire and bloody damnation,

Linden!” raged Covenant. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing’?”

“Mom, what’s wrong’?” panted Jeremiah. “Did you fall? Are you hurt? Are you trying to banish us?”

The wood that you claim must defy them- Linden gripped her Staff grimly and did not falter. You must be the first to drink of the EarthBlood. She stood between her companions and their goal.

Indirectly Esmer had prepared her for her encounter with the Viles. Had he also betrayed her?

“Oh, stop,” she breathed heavily, feigning anger to disguise her sorrow and resolve. “I’m obviously not going to “banish” you. You’ve never been in any danger. There’s more power here than I could ever muster. It doesn’t bother you. And when Berek touched you-”

She left the rest of her protest unsaid. Covenant and Jeremiah had some other reason for rejecting contact with her. But she did not waste her scant strength on recriminations. When Covenant started to swear again, she took a step backward. And another.

“You said that you want to be clear,” she reminded him. Her voice was husky with effort and Earthpower. “So do I. I don’t”- she grimaced- “trust this situation.”

“Linden.” Covenant suddenly became calm. He kept his gaze away from hers; did not let her see his eyes. But he sounded almost gentle. “You don’t have to make a fight out of this. Talk to us. Tell us what you want. We’ll figure it out together.”

She continued moving slowly backward. She could not see either him or Jeremiah clearly. Her vision was an irredeemable smear of tears. But her tears were not weeping, and her nose ran only because it was stung by Earthpower.

“So you say.” Even now she lied without hesitation. “Here’s the problem. I can’t debate with you anymore.” If Covenant carried out his stated intentions-and if she succeeded at saving her son-she would be abandoned here, ten thousand years away from where she belonged. “You’ll come up with too many arguments, and I won’t be able to think.” Her mere presence and power in this time might suffice to alter the Land’s history; unmake the Arch. The Thomas Covenant whom she had known would not have asked or expected that of her. “So I’m just going to drink the EarthBlood first. I’m going to get Jeremiah away from Lord Foul with his mind whole. I’ll make sure that he can stay in the Land after Joan dies. Then I’ll get out of your way and let you do whatever you want.”

“Mom!” Jeremiah protested urgently. If you do that, I will vanish. I won’t be with you anymore!”

Still retreating along the tunnel, Linden gazed at him through her tears. “I believe you.” A surge of grief slipped past her self-command. Then she forced it down. “I’ll never see you again. But at least I’ll know that you’re safe.”

Another faint shudder undermined the stone, but she did not lose her balance.

If she severed the bond between her son and Covenant, Covenant might become honest. But she did not intend to rely on that slim possibility.

If you err in this, your losses will be greater than you are able to conceive.

“Damnation, Linden.” Covenant still spoke calmly, although he crowded after her with an air of desperation. “It isn’t that simple. What makes you think I can stand by while you use the Power of Command? You’re the only one of us who’s real enough to survive forces on that scale.”

He and Jeremiah pushed toward her. Yet they did not risk coming near enough to be touched by her fire. Upheld by the Staff, she took one step after another.

She could feel the crushing mass of the mountain lean over her. It seemed to hold its breath as though it awaited her decision; her actions. You serve a purpose not your own, and have no purpose. That may have been true earlier. It was not true now.

The intensity in the air increased. It exceeded Linden’s ability to measure its increments-and went on increasing. The untrammelled might of the EarthBlood accumulated at her back.

“I’m not so sure,” she retorted, still pretending ire which she did not feel. “You’re part of the Arch of Time. There’s nothing you can’t do.”

She had seen Thomas Covenant become a being of incarnate wild magic. Even the imponderable capabilities of the Elohim would be too weak to contain him. He could have brushed aside their interference. If he feared them, he had some other reason.

“Hellfire!” he countered more hotly. “That isn’t how it works. Right now, I’m as mortal as you are. You’ve got my ring. You’ve even got your damn Staff. I’ve got nothing. And your kid has less than that.

“When I was here before”- he lowered his voice again- “I had my ring. That’s the only reason I wasn’t wiped off the face of the Earth when Elena summoned Kevin. Without it, I’m vulnerable. Why do you think I had to let the Theomach push me around? Why do you think I’ve been worried about the Elohim? While I’m in two places at once, two different kinds of reality, I’m practically crippled.”

Linden took another step backward, and another, holding the Staff of Law alight. She could not gain what she needed by any form of argument or persuasion. Through Anele, Covenant had told her, I can’t help you unless you find me. Then he had ridden into Revelstone with her son on the strength of his own will? No. Either the being who had spoken to her days ago had deliberately misled her, or the man who stood before her now was false in ways that exceeded her imagination.

“Maybe that’s true,” she muttered through her teeth. “Maybe it isn’t. I really don’t care.” If her son had let her touch him, she might not have been able to go on lying. But he and Covenant gave her nothing which would have compelled her to tell the truth. “I only care about Jeremiah. I’m going to save him. The Land is your problem.”