The Runes of the Earth

Only then did she notice that Galt had not bowed to her: not once since they had first been introduced. Apparently he or his people esteemed her less than Stave did.

Galt may have wished her to understand that the Masters had no intention of letting Anele go.

Well, damn, she thought again, this time angrily. Let them try it. If they think-

Nevertheless the prospect of contending for Anele’s soul calmed her. A physician’s detachment came to her aid, a separation of emotion which she had learned from years of training. Precisely because a struggle awaited her, she comported herself as though she were unafraid.

Quietly she asked the Humbled, “Is Handir waiting? Can we take the time to eat something? I haven’t had breakfast yet.”

Let them try to keep Anele from her.

“There is no need for haste,” replied Galt. His tone seemed to imply that the Masters could wait indefinitely for a woman as weak as she was.

Linden turned back into the room. “In that case,” she suggested to Liand, “why don’t you cut up some of that bread and cheese”- she nodded at the Mahdoubt’s tray- “while I get my boots on? We’ll take it with us.”

Her attitude appeared to confuse Liand, but he promptly stifled his reaction, obeying without hesitation. He may have realised that there were large issues at stake for her, issues which transcended Anele’s release and the departure of the Demondim.

You hold great powers. Yet if we determine that we must wrest them from you, do you truly doubt that we will prevail?

Without the Staff of Law and Covenant’s ring, she would be helpless to defend the Land, or rescue her son.

Carefully, preparing herself, Linden donned her socks and then her boots while Liand sliced bread and cheese into convenient pieces. Then, still calm, she returned to her bedroom to retrieve the Staff.

She had promised the Stonedownor that she would attempt to restore their percipience. Without it, she feared that she would be powerless to sway the Masters.

But when she took the warm shaft in her hands, she found that she did not know how to call upon its strength.

A surge of panic threatened her detachment. She needed the Staff; perhaps more than she needed wild magic. She had pinned all of her hopes on Law and Earthpower. They were the organic antitheses of caesures and Kevin’s Dirt and Despite. And she had fashioned this Staff with her own hands and heart. It belonged to her more profoundly than Covenant’s ring. Yet she could discover no power in it. It was merely wood: lovely to the touch, and flawless, but nothing more.

Panic would not serve her, however. Instead of trying to force some response from the Staff, she required herself to step back emotionally and think.

When she did so, she realised that she had never before been able to raise any kind of power without health-sense to guide her. Not during the collapse of Kevin’s Watch: not when she had summoned the ur-viles to aid Sahah: not in the Verge of Wandering on Stave’s behalf. On each occasion, she had been above the blinding shroud of Kevin’s Dirt. In the rift, she had failed to find wild magic. And during her time with Thomas Covenant, she had never lacked percipience. In the past, Kevin’s Dirt had not existed. And when she had used the Staff the previous day, her senses had still retained most of their discernment.

She had always been able to feel the Staff’s potential like a geyser waiting to be released. Without that sight, she was trapped. She needed the Staff to restore her health-sense, and needed percipience to use the Staff.

Trust yourself. You’re the only one who can do this. But she could not.

Again panic threatened her. She did not hear Liand enter the bedroom; did not notice him until he placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Linden,” he whispered, trying not to be overheard, “what is amiss? Has Kevin’s Dirt deprived the Staff of potency?”

Urgently she stared into his eyes; and the sight of his unaffected worry steadied her. She could not afford to lose her way now. Too many people had staked their lives on her.

She had to think.

Liand’s question gave her a place to start. “No,” she began weakly. “It can’t. This is the Staff of Law. Kevin’s Dirt can’t change what it is. That’s not the problem.” As she spoke, however, her voice grew stronger. She drew courage from the gentleness of his touch on her shoulders. “I am. I can’t figure out how to use it. I need my health-sense.”

The Stonedownor knew virtually nothing about power. For that very reason, he might be able to aid her. He was not hampered by her preconceptions.

If he had trusted her less implicitly, he might have hesitated. But he seemed to believe beyond question that her dilemma was a problem she could resolve rather than an inadequacy she would be unable to overcome. Still whispering, he said firmly, “Yet you also have not changed. Kevin’s Dirt is merely a veil. It cannot alter you.”

Linden nodded. Her reliance on him was as implicit as his trust. And of course he was right. Otherwise the effects of the shroud would have been permanent.

He smiled to encourage her. “Is the wood not warm?”

Warmth, yes. She could feel that. She shifted her hands to confirm it, and was sure. The shaft radiated a palpable heat, delicate and reassuring.

Again she nodded.

“If the wood retains its warmth,” he asked softly, “can you not also touch the source of that warmth?”

She did not know. She had not made the attempt.

Prompted by his clear assumption that she would not fail, she closed her eyes and focused all of her attention on the sensation of the Staff in her grasp.

The surface of the wood was so smooth that it felt almost slick; as immaculate as a clear sky, and yet as full of life and possibilities as the Andelainian Hills. Its energy was unmistakable. And the more she concentrated on it, the deeper that vitality seemed to run. It was a geyser indeed, a tangible wellspring. There was no measurable limit to the amount of Earthpower which might pour forth if the Staff were opened.

All she needed-

– was the warmth itself. Kevin’s Dirt might close her senses, but it could not seal the Staff. By its very nature, the wood’s strength would heal her if she simply immersed herself in its heat.

Wrapping her arms around the Staff, she hugged it to her heart; and as she did so, her senses began to bloom.

In moments, she could feel the shaft glowing like hope in her embrace. With her eyes still shut, she could discern Liand’s simple belief in her. The nerves of her skin tasted the life in his veins; enjoyed the confident beating of his heart. And behind him-

Ah, behind him stood the living gutrock of the promontory, the vital and ageless granite into which the Unhomed had engraved their intricate, enduring, and passionate love of stone. If she had been content to do so, she could have spent days or years entranced by the slow pulse of Revelstone’s rock. Eventually she would have been able to sense and share every life that inhabited the vast Keep, every love, every fear, every desire. Given time, she might learn to hear the words which the stone spoke to itself, as Anele did.

But the thought of the old man brought her back to herself. She had too much to do. Now she would be able to do it.

Tears of relief ran down her cheeks as she reached out to Liand with the Staff’s beneficence and freed his senses from Kevin’s Dirt. She did not need to look at him to recognise his sudden bliss.

“This is temporary,” she told him in a husky voice. “I’ll probably have to renew it every day.” Or every few hours. “But now I know how.”

“My thanks,” he breathed when she was finally able to open her eyes and face him. “There are no words- Only know that you have my”- he swallowed roughly- “entire gratitude.”

“Then we’re even.” Without transition, Linden found that she was eager to confront the Masters. She felt fundamentally restored, in full possession of her powers, as if she had reclaimed a birthright. Armed with the Staff of Law and Covenant’s ring, as with Liand’s trust, she was ready for any challenge. “I could not have done this