The Runes of the Earth

ourselves. We confirm none that others relate. Human memories are brief, and we nurture that brevity.

“For many centuries now, the folk of the Land have known little which might harm them. You are forgotten, Linden Avery. The ur-Lord himself, whom we greatly honour, is no longer remembered. If it is your wish to oppose us, you will find no aid in all the Land.”

Now Linden dashed the blur from her sight to gape aghast at the Haruchai, silently begging him to stop. But he did not.

“In this the Giants have been our gravest hazard. The folk of the Land are as short of life as of memory, but the span of the Giants is measured in centuries. They remember. They return to the Land at intervals, when their wide sojourning tends hither. And they speak of what they remember.

“They love long tales, which they recount at all opportunities. Therefore we are Wary of them. As it lies within our power, we dissuade their travels to the Upper Land. And we do what we may to prevent the folk of the Land from hearing their tales.”

Linden flinched as if Stave had struck her-and still he was not done. “The Giants have not forgotten you, Linden Avery,” he assured her, “yet you will find no aid among them. Their last sojourn to the Land ended scant decades ago. They will not return in your lifetime, or the next.”

Good God, she groaned in protest. And you think you’ve given up arrogance? Stave’s people had gone beyond folly. Anele was right about them. They might call Lord Foul their enemy, but they served him and did not know it.

She should have risen to her feet; faced him with her anger and dismay. But she did not. He had shaken her profoundly. The flame of the lamp guttered in her face, and all of her courage had fallen to ash.

However, her face must have betrayed her reaction. After a moment, Stave observed, “Still you do not understand.” He addressed her from an unattainable height. “This manner of speech misrepresents us. It misrepresents truth. And I have deflected myself from the pith of that which I must convey.”

He appeared to reconsider his approach. “All other matters are secondary,” he said then. “Only the question of Earthpower signifies. Grasping that, you will grasp all else.”

He began again as though he could read the floundering incomprehension written in the play of lamplight on her features, and knew now how to answer it.

“Consider, Linden Avery. The Elohim are beings of Earthpower, and they serve only their own freedom rather than the needs of the Earth. And the Worm of the World’s End is Earthpower incarnate.

“The peril is manifest. It cannot be denied.

“When he had concealed the old Staff of Law so that it would not constrain him, Kevin Landwaster enacted the Ritual of Desecration. That was Earthpower.

“Though she held the old Staff in her hands, and Thomas Covenant urged restraint, High Lord Elena exercised the essential ichor of the Earth to lift dead Kevin from his grave. Disdaining his agony, she compelled his shade against Corruption. Thus was the Law of Death broken, and the Staff lost, to no avail.

“That was Earthpower.”

And still Stave was not done.

“The ancient Forestals were beings of wonder. Long they laboured to preserve the remnants of the One Forest. Yet when they had dwindled to the last, and Caer-Caveral stood alone in Andelain, he surrendered all use and purpose to break the Law of Life so that Hollian eh-Brand might live again. Now no guardian remains to the trees, and their long sentience has faded away.

“That was Earthpower.

“The Vow which misled the honour of the Bloodguard was made possible by Earthpower. Like the Sunbane before it, Kevin’s Dirt is an expression of Earthpower. Beasts of Earthpower rage upon Mount Thunder, and the lurker of the Sarangrave grows restive. Of the evils which now threaten the Land, only the Falls appear to spring from another fount. In all other forms, it is by Earthpower that the Land is imperilled, as it has been from the beginning.”

There the Master finished. “Give answer, Linden Avery. As you have said, Brinn of the Haruchai has become the Guardian of the One Tree. In this he surpasses our knowledge of ourselves. He both exalts and humbles us. We must show that we are worthy of him, in guardianship and devotion.

“We have determined that we will serve the Land. How then may we countenance any exercise of Earthpower?”

Still Linden could not muster the strength to stand. She needed help from someone. She had no idea how to free her son. She did not even know where to look for him. Nor could she imagine where the lost Staff might be found. For that search also she would need help. And she was certain now that the Haruchai would not “countenance” such a quest. How could they? The Staff was an instrument of Earthpower.

She did not answer Stave as he might have desired. Instead she countered his query with one of her own.

Bowing her head, she asked past the swaying veil of her hair, “If you’re so determined to suppress the past, why are you willing to let me go?” She was a portion of the Land’s history incarnate. “Aren’t you afraid of what I might do?”

Another man might have sighed. Stave only lifted his shoulders slightly. “You are Linden Avery the Chosen. You have stood at the Unbeliever’s side, and have kept faith. To our knowledge, no harm has arisen from you, or from the wild magic which you now wield. With white gold, ur-Lord Thomas Covenant has twice defeated Corruption. And when we have doubted you, your choices and actions have shown their worth.

“We will”-once more he searched for the right word-”accept the hazard that you may seek to oppose us.”

Oh, I’ll oppose you, she wanted to say. I haven’t forgotten a thing. I’ll tell it all, and to hell with you.

Don’t you understand that Earthpower is life?

Nevertheless she kept her anger to herself. Her plight was too grave; and she was too Weak: she feared to declare herself. And Stave would not be swayed by Jeremiah’s peril.

Instead of responding to the Master’s assertion, she said obliquely, “That smog that yellow shroud. Why is it called Kevin’s Dirt?”

His answer had the finality of a knell. “We name it so because we deem it to be a foretaste of Desecration. Its pall covers the Land in preparation.”

Have mercy, Linden groaned to herself. A foretaste-Was Lord Foul that sure of himself?

Hiding behind her hair, she told the Haruchai softly, “If that’s true, I need time to think. I want to be alone for a while.”

She had come to the end of what she could bear to hear.

Until she heard the soft rustle of the curtain and knew that Stave was gone, she did not raise her head.

Incongruously considerate, he had left his lamp behind.

His people did not allow any use of Earthpower. Deliberately they had caused its very existence-the Land’s true heritage-to be forgotten.

If Covenant could have heard her-if he had been anything more than a figment of her dreams-she might have groaned aloud, I need you. I don’t think I can do this.

Abruptly her companion rolled away from the wall. His arms trembled as he braced himself into a sitting position. Tears glistened in the grime on his cheeks, formed lamp-lit beads in his tattered beard. His lower lip quivered.

Miserably he breathed, “Anele is doomed.”

She could not contradict him. She did not know how.

Chapter Five: Distraction