The Runes of the Earth

dwellings.

“The occasion itself” he said quietly, remembering dismay, “was in no way remarkable. Our folk had gathered at day’s end in the centre of the Stonedown to speak of that which had been accomplished, and to prepare for the morrow’s labours. Also such gatherings provide opportunity for songs and tales an ease. Thus do the folk of Mithil Stonedown combine their hearts for the aid and comfort of all.

Wind plucked at the curtain. An accumulating tension in the air hinted at thunder. For reasons of his own, Anele left the rear wall and crept forward on his hands and knees. He may have wished to hear better.

Liand continued.

The occasion commenced in the ordinary fashion, occupied with matters which held little interest for a child of my few years. Labours were discussed, plans made. I attended to them scantly, awaiting tales.

“Yet of a sudden it became apparent that a stranger stood among us. His visage was merely unfamiliar, for we had never seen him before. And his raiment resembled ours. We found it surpassingly strange, however, that none of us had observed his approach. Indeed, the Masters themselves had given no sign that they were aware of him ere he appeared.

“He did not ask for our notice. He merely awaited it. Yet soon every eye and ear was concentrated toward him. Then he began to speak.”

An abrupt gust pulled the curtain from its hook. The leather slapped down, sealing out the last of the light. Startled, Linden clutched at Covenant’s ring. Now she could see nothing of Liand except his outlines. Anele was an undefined blur in the centre of the chamber, breathing feverishly through his teeth.

Almost whispering, the Stonedownor said, “The stranger spoke of matters which conveyed no meaning to us. Sandgorgons. Croyel. A shadow upon the heart of his kind. Merewives and other bafflements. To none of them could we make response. We did not comprehend them.

“Then, however”- Liand faltered as though the memory still discomfited him”- he informed us that a bane of great puissance and ferocity in the far north had slipped its bonds, and had found release in Mount Thunder.

“Mount Thunder?” we inquired of him courteously. “We know nothing of that place. Is it near? Does it concern us? We are imperilled betimes by Falls. But packs of kresh are the only harm which has visited us from the north.”

Linden groaned like the mounting wind. In the gaps between gusts, she heard a faint sizzling noise like rain on hot stone. Liand’s people had never even heard of Mount Thunder-The thoroughness with which the Haruchai had expunged the Land’s past shocked her.

But Liand could not see her reaction; knew nothing of her concerns. He had not stopped.

“At first the stranger answered us with anger. Were we blind? Had we grown foolish across the centuries? Did we disdain the harsh evils of the world?

“There, however, Stave of the Masters intervened. I have not forgotten his words.

“Elohim,” he said, “you are not welcome here.”

Oh, hell. Linden gaped at the dark. An Elohim? What were those arrogant, Earthpowerful beings doing in the Land?

In the distance, thunder opened a cannonade. Crushing volleys echoed from the mountains which sheltered Mithil Stonedown. Anele quailed at the sound as though each barrage were aimed at him.

“These folk are ignorant, Haruchai,” replied the stranger. “You have maimed them of knowledge. Their doom is upon your heads.” But he did not tell us what he meant.

“Instead he gave warning. “Beware the halfhand,” he pronounced in a voice which shook our hearts. Then he appeared to dissolve into the air as salt does in water, and was gone, leaving only the taste of disturbance on our tongues.”

If she could have cleared her throat, Linden might have protested, Beware the halfhand? Distress crowded her chest. That title had been given to Thomas Covenant during his first visit to the Land.

But Jeremiah was also a halfhand, in his own way.

She hardly heard Liand ask, “Do you deem that strange, Linden Avery? Do you know of this “halfhand”?

The Elohim had never trusted Covenant. They had feared his white ring; feared its power to compel even them, despite their fluid transcendence. But he was dead-

What did they know of her son?

They were Elohim. They knew everything that transpired throughout the Earth. It was their nature to know. Of course they were aware of Jeremiah’s plight.

Surely they understood Lord Foul’s intentions precisely?

“It troubles us still,” Liand admitted when she did not respond, “though the stranger has not returned. For that reason, my heart speaks to me of matters greater than the Masters permit us to know.”

Beware the halfhand.

Find me, Covenant had pleaded in her dreams.

She had assumed that her son had been taken as a hostage against her, so that she might be coerced into surrendering Covenant’s ring. But the warning of the Elohim seemed to imply a larger danger.

Larger than the destruction of the Arch of Time and the extinction of the Earth-?

Seconded by thunder, Liand finished, “And therefore I ascended the Watch, defying the prohibition of the Masters, though to do so may have been foolish and perilous. I wish to know the name of our doom.”

Linden stared at him, seeing nothing. Worse than Lord Foul’s complete victory-?

“Protect Anele,” the old man whimpered through the thrashing of the wind. “Power comes. It will shred his heart.”

“Linden Avery.” Liand’s voice held a note of supplication. “Speak to me. You grasp much which is denied to us. Do you comprehend this doom? Who is this Elohim? What is the “halfhand,” that we must be wary of him?”

Magnified by the wind, thunder thudded against the ground so heavily that the floor under her shook. The air flurrying past the curtain had turned as cold as frost.

She had encountered the croyel. They were parasites which gave power in exchange for mastery. She had seen them unify the primitive savagery of the arghuleh; exalt Kasreyn of the Gyre’s dangerous theurgies.

What might such a creature do to Jeremiah?

The croyel posed no threat to the Elohim. The danger must be to the Land, and to the Earth. Or to her son-

“What’s happening?”

She did not hear herself speak aloud. She only knew that the thunder had grown as violent as the rending of Kevin’s Watch.

“Protect,” Anele repeated. His voice quavered in fright.

Abruptly a ragged wail carried along the wind. “We are assailed!” At once, Liand sprang to his feet. “Kresh?” he gasped. “Now?”

In a rush, he flung himself past the curtain; disappeared between the dwellings.

Instinctively Linden surged upright, echoing Liand’s question. Wolves? In a storm like this?

No. Not unless the Despiser had compelled them to attack.

Mithil Stonedown would need all of its defenders. Even the Haruchai might find themselves overwhelmed.

“Come on,” she told Anele urgently. With her right hand, she gripped Covenant’s ring. “They need help, and I can’t leave you. You’re coming with me.”

Her companion did not react. He could not have heard her. Wind and thunder like detonations smothered her voice.

“Come on!” she yelled, beckoning furiously at the thick gloom. Then she slapped the curtain aside and hurried into the storm.

There, however, she staggered to a halt.