Against All Things Ending Part 39

With every resource at their disposal, the Ranyhyn had a.s.sured her that possession was not the answer. If with fire and need she breathed her life into every one of Jeremiah's uncounted corpses and gathered them into herself, she would commit a crime for which there was no possible exculpation.

Remembering, she wanted to howl at the unrelieved sky of her son's suffering. But she did not.

Like the Ranyhyn, she was not done.

The flame of her Staff had become blackness-but it was still power power. She could still try to break through the croyel croyel's bitter mastery. She could do that without touching Jeremiah's soul.

As soon as she made the attempt, however, she discovered that she was wrong. Her first flagrant blast elicited another strike of lightning from the croyel croyel's defenses. A second bolt sizzled into the heart of a second grave. Coruscation moiled and spat in the mounded earth. Again Jeremiah fought free of the ground. When he gained his feet, he said like the gloom and the wafting dust, "Mom, don't. This is what Lord Foul wants."

Then he was gone, dissipated; returned to living death.

She began to shout the Seven Words-and another incinerating blast inscribed horror across the twilight. Another avatar of Jeremiah's misery arose; uttered its brief, forlorn supplication; dissolved back into its grave.

Realization dropped her to her knees among the incoherence of the mounds. She could not-oh, she could not! could not! Not like this. She could not strive for her son's release: not while she remained within him. Her efforts would break down his defenses. Struggling against the Not like this. She could not strive for her son's release: not while she remained within him. Her efforts would break down his defenses. Struggling against the croyel croyel, she would exacerbate his agony until it became d.a.m.nation.

He did not belong to the Despiser. Not yet. Linden had seen him, heard him. His graves both imprisoned and protected him.

But if his own mother destroyed that protection-Violated heart and soul, he would become Lord Foul's. Whether or not she succeeded at freeing him.

Kneeling, Linden felt the same aghast anguish which had sickened her after the horserite. The idea that she might do that that to her son, not in visions, but in tangible truth- to her son, not in visions, but in tangible truth- It could have broken her. Perhaps it should have. But it did not. She still was not done. She had other sources of power. She could make other choices.

In a rush like a sudden fever, she surged back to her feet. Deliberately she tightened her grip on burning runes.

Contained within Jeremiah's mind and the croyel croyel's malice, she tried to make her physical throat and mouth and tongue cry aloud.

Liand, help me! Get me out of here!

She may have succeeded: Liand may have heard her. Or he may simply have seen her peril and understood.

Like a burst of sunlight, the salvific radiance of orcrest orcrest touched the back of her neck and the side of her face. touched the back of her neck and the side of her face.

Touched and took hold.

An instant later, she staggered for balance as her boots rediscovered the bare gypsum of the ridgecrest under a wilderness of stars. Jeremiah stood, unclaimed, in front of her. The croyel croyel bared its fangs in a feral grin. Struck by the shining of the Sunstone, the creature's eyes glared yellow triumph. bared its fangs in a feral grin. Struck by the shining of the Sunstone, the creature's eyes glared yellow triumph.

Stave caught her at once; steadied her. In her hands, flames as black as the Staff crawled across the surface of the wood, elucidating the runes. But the fires had already begun to fade. They had already faded. Only the pain deep in her palms and fingers retained Caerroil Wildwood's admonition.

Shocked by ebony, Giants called her name. Manethrall Mahrtiir muttered curses under his breath. Liand grasped her arm with his free hand, seeking some a.s.surance that she was unharmed.

Linden flung him off. She flung them all off. She had no time for explanations-and no language for what had happened. She needed to act now, now now, while images of her son's plight remained as precise and piercing as shards of gla.s.s in her mind.

Covenant tried to say something, but his voice sounded as cut as the runes, impossible to scry.

Because she did not plan to channel her attack through the krill krill's gem, she feared to hold and wield two instruments of power at the same time. Either alone will transcend your strength Either alone will transcend your strength-Febrile with haste, she thrust her Staff into Stave's hands. Liand might try to use it: Stave would not.

Then she pulled the chain that held Covenant's ring over her head. Shoving her index finger into the band, the way Covenant had worn it, she closed her fist on the chain. With her other hand, she tugged Jeremiah's racecar out of her pocket; held it up in front of him like a talisman.

She did not know how to carry out her intentions. The ring did not belong to her: she lacked Covenant's inherent relationship with wild magic. But for that very reason-and because her health-sense retained its crystalline clarity-she trusted herself. Her limitations as well as her senses would prevent her from committing any grievous harm. And if her efforts announced her to Kastenessen-or to Joan-she did not care. Jeremiah's straits outweighed every other fear.

Racing within herself as though she had become sure of her pa.s.sage, she reached the secreted chamber where her access to wild magic lay dormant. Without a pause, she threw open the door.

In that instant, the ring released a shaft of argent incandescence like the lightnings which had roused brief avatars of her son from their graves.

It was too much: too potent; too dangerous. She knew that immediately. It was wild magic wild magic: it resisted control. Its brilliance blinded her. Its sheer force seemed to efface the night. Yet the ring's potential for ruin did not daunt her. She had invoked this fire in the past, more than once. She believed that she would be able to master it.

It was only too strong because she had called upon it so fiercely. When she had gauged every dimension of its strength, she would refine it to suit her purpose.

Its imperfection is the very paradox of which the Earth is made- Obliquely she saw avarice throbbing in Loric's krill krill. Covenant's bitten curses confirmed it: the grim consternation of the Giants confirmed it. Joan-or turiya turiya Herem-had already noticed Linden. In moments, the Herem-had already noticed Linden. In moments, the krill krill might grow hot enough to damage Galt's hands. It had nearly destroyed Covenant's. But Linden ignored that possibility. She intended to work quickly; to finish her task before the Master suffered. might grow hot enough to damage Galt's hands. It had nearly destroyed Covenant's. But Linden ignored that possibility. She intended to work quickly; to finish her task before the Master suffered.

-and with it a master may form perfect works and fear nothing.

While Liand and the Ramen stared at her, Linden pulled her power out of the heavens and began forging it into a spike like the flame of a cutting torch, a nail with a point as precise as a star and as piercing as a dagger.

At the periphery of her awareness, she felt the rest of the Swordmainnir surge onto the ridgecrest, bringing Bhapa with them. In the shaped rock of her breastplate, Stormpast Galesend carried Anele. The old man was awake now, taut with alertness, apparently watching Linden. Her wild fire and the shining of Loric's gem seemed to catch and burn in his blind eyes.

But Linden ignored her companions. Her whole heart was concentrated on fury and white gold; on energies chaotic enough to rend the heavens, and pure enough to savage the croyel croyel's brain.

It was hard-Ah, it was hard hard. More difficult than creating a caesure caesure to escape the Land's past: more arduous than summoning the sheer might to resurrect Covenant. Long ago, he had warned her that wild magic acc.u.mulated, that it gathered force with every use; that its fire always resisted containment. She had experienced the danger herself. to escape the Land's past: more arduous than summoning the sheer might to resurrect Covenant. Long ago, he had warned her that wild magic acc.u.mulated, that it gathered force with every use; that its fire always resisted containment. She had experienced the danger herself.

But she was not merely Linden Avery the Chosen. She was the by G.o.d Sun-Sage! Unfettered, her health-sense made her capable of perceptions and evaluations which Thomas Covenant himself could not match. She did not need to fear true havoc: the ring was not hers. And the blood in her veins was rage rage. It had transformed every other pa.s.sion of her life.

For Jeremiah's sake, she could muster a degree of control that might have surpa.s.sed any rightful white gold wielder.

With every resource at her command, she formed a knife of argent which would coruscate through the croyel croyel's brain without laying waste to the graveyard of Jeremiah's consciousness.

When her weapon was ready, she moved closer to her son. Holding up the racecar so that he could see it-so that it might serve as an anchor or lodestone for his buried thoughts-she aimed wild magic like a honed scream at the monster's face.

At the same time, however, she sent percipience like tendrils of supplication and tenderness back into Jeremiah. She did not reach so deeply now; did not enter him entirely. Instead she extended her senses only far enough to gauge his condition while she threatened the croyel croyel.

Rigid with strain, she panted through her teeth, "This is it, you vile b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I'm done with you. Let him go or die, one or the other. I will not I will not-!"

The creature's gaze interrupted her. Its eyes glared yellow terror. Sweat as rank as the halitus of a charnel glistened on its hairless skin. For an instant, Linden believed that she would succeed. Surely the croyel croyel understood that she would kill it without remorse? Surely it wanted to live? understood that she would kill it without remorse? Surely it wanted to live?

But then she realized that the monster's stare was fixed, not on her, but on Liand.

The croyel croyel still feared him more than it feared her. It had done so from the first. still feared him more than it feared her. It had done so from the first.

A heartbeat later, Jeremiah howled in agony. Within him, energies from all directions began to scourge his interred sentience. Bolts of ferocity lashed dozens of graves at a time, hundreds. Molten earth boiled around aspects of himself as they writhed to their feet. But this time, the blazing shafts did not raise him and then withdraw. No, this time each strike was sustained-It burned and burned burned him until each risen avatar was reduced to whimpering and ash; true death. him until each risen avatar was reduced to whimpering and ash; true death.

The croyel croyel was not merely excoriating moments of Jeremiah's mind: it was incinerating them entirely. Dozens or hundreds of his lost thoughts had already been destroyed. was not merely excoriating moments of Jeremiah's mind: it was incinerating them entirely. Dozens or hundreds of his lost thoughts had already been destroyed.

How many of them could the monster slaughter before Linden killed it? Thousands? Tens Tens of thousands? Then her son's mind would be crippled. The damage would be irretrievable. of thousands? Then her son's mind would be crippled. The damage would be irretrievable.

In horror and fury, Linden wanted to punch wild magic straight through the croyel croyel's skull. She could halt Jeremiah's torment almost instantly. She would lose a thousand pieces of him, or ten thousand, or a hundred thousand. But the graveyard was immense; almost limitless. Like any mind. A gently nurtured brain could recover from appalling amounts of harm. In her former life, she had seen such things happen. And there she had lacked the healing powers of her Staff- Nevertheless she stopped herself. Jerked backward a step. Quenched Covenant's ring as rapidly as she could. Wrenched the band from her finger; shoved both the ring and the racecar deep into her pockets.

Withdrew her threat.

Because the croyel croyel- Her whole body trembled until she felt the barrage of lightning inside Jeremiah cease.

-feared Liand more than it feared her.

Liand and orcrest orcrest.

Covenant was shouting her name. How long had he been trying to get her attention? She had no idea. She was crying again, and could not stop. h.e.l.lfire, Linden! he may have yelled. You can't do this! Wild magic is the wrong kind of power!

She knew that now.

Stave's strong arms held her until her initial rush of trembling faded. Unable to stanch her tears for her, he did what he could by pushing the Staff of Law into her hands.

He had said, Should you fail, the outcome will be heinous to you Should you fail, the outcome will be heinous to you. And she had certainly failed.

Nevertheless he was wrong. As long as Liand Liand did not fail- did not fail- For a moment, stars seemed to reel around her, wheeling overhead as if she had thrown them into turmoil. The Sunstone still shone, refusing the immediate dark. The light of Loric's krill krill throbbed with intimations of greed and murder. Yet to Linden the black sky felt as heavy and fatal as a cenotaph. throbbed with intimations of greed and murder. Yet to Linden the black sky felt as heavy and fatal as a cenotaph.

Stepping back from the brink of Jeremiah's fate, she had made herself small again: too small to have any meaning among the forlorn immensities of stars and night, the hard truths of barren hills and crumbling gypsum. But she could bear her own littleness. It was enough for her.

As long as Liand did not fail.

Still quaking in the marrow of her bones, she accepted the burden of herself from Stave. The touch of the Staff's runes continued to hurt her hands, but the burn was receding. Soon she would be able to find comfort in the clean wood again.

Around her, eight Giants loomed like menhirs against the nightscape. Liand stood poised at her side, gripping his orcrest orcrest, eager to talk to her; as eager as a man who had identified the import of his life. A few steps away, blind Mahrtiir appeared to watch over Covenant. The Humbled could not: Clyme and Branl remained on their chosen hillcrests, and Galt's hands were full.

Behind Liand's far shoulder, Pahni waited with sun-yellow and silver lights like fears in her wide eyes. A stride or two behind the other Swordmainnir, Galesend still bore Anele in her armor. The old man watched Linden and Liand, Jeremiah and the croyel croyel, with his head jerking fearfully from side to side as if he had stumbled to the edge of an inner precipice. With one hand, he made plucking motions in Liand's direction as though he wanted the Stonedownor's attention.

Halfway between Anele and Mahrtiir, Bhapa fretted, unsure of his duty to men who could not see.

"Linden Giantfriend-" began Rime Coldspray. But she appeared to have no language for what she wanted to say, or to ask. Her strong jaws chewed emotions which defied expression.

"I was afraid of this," Covenant muttered. "Linden, I'm so sorry. Sometimes we just have to-"

He did not complete the thought. Like Jeremiah, he sank into silence as if it were a grave.

Quietly intense, Liand said, "Linden, I grieve for you, and for your son. Yet there is an admixture of eagerness in my sorrow, though it is selfish to feel thus. While the boy remains among us, hope also remains.

"And I have not yet tested my strength."

His Sunstone glowed like a promise. He was the first true Stonedownor for millennia. There was no one like him in the Land.

Linden wanted to cry out, Don't talk about it! Don't explain it! Just do do it! My G.o.d, he's it! My G.o.d, he's buried alive buried alive in there! in there!

But she stifled her demand. Like her, other people needed to make their own decisions. Liand would do what he could. Somehow she contained herself while he sought words for his excitement.

"In Revelstone," he said, almost whispering, "you spoke of orcrest orcrest. I had learned that it gives light at need, and has the virtue to find wholeness among the fragments of Anele's thoughts. To this, you added other knowledge, lore which has proven its worth. And you spoke-"

He seemed to swallow wonder and antic.i.p.ation that bordered on exaltation. "Linden, you spoke of healing healing. When you had informed me of orcrest orcrest's power to wash away the effects of Kevin's Dirt, you made mention of healing. Healing of the spirit rather than of the flesh. From this surely arises the ancient use of Sunstone as a test of truth."

While Linden ground her teeth, Liand said more strongly, "It is in my heart that your son's plight, first and last, is an affliction of the spirit. If orcrest orcrest is puissant to bind together Anele's incoherence, mayhap it is able also to seal your son's soul against ravage. How may such a creature as the is puissant to bind together Anele's incoherence, mayhap it is able also to seal your son's soul against ravage. How may such a creature as the croyel croyel endure any test of truth? I am uninstructed in the ways of Earthpower." As he spoke, he seemed to become taller in Linden's sight; more solid. "Yet both my heart and my eyes a.s.sure me that the magicks of endure any test of truth? I am uninstructed in the ways of Earthpower." As he spoke, he seemed to become taller in Linden's sight; more solid. "Yet both my heart and my eyes a.s.sure me that the magicks of orcrest orcrest are anathema to this hideous being. are anathema to this hideous being.

"Linden Avery, I ask your leave to attempt your son's release."

Before Linden could reply, Onyx Stonemage countered, "And if the croyel croyel exceeds your strength? What then? We have seen Linden Giantfriend's flame transformed to blackness. I pray that the alteration proves fleeting. Yet if she who is adept at Earthpower can be tainted thus, how will you endure? exceeds your strength? What then? We have seen Linden Giantfriend's flame transformed to blackness. I pray that the alteration proves fleeting. Yet if she who is adept at Earthpower can be tainted thus, how will you endure?

"Liand of Mithil Stonedown, I honor your willing valor. I am proud to name you among my companions. But when you gaze into this lost boy's heart, his possessor will gaze into yours. Then mayhap no admixture will remain to ease our own lament."

Linden started to say, Do Do it, Liand. At some better time, she might have added, I trust you. While urgency clogged her throat, however, she felt the sickening migraine aura of a it, Liand. At some better time, she might have added, I trust you. While urgency clogged her throat, however, she felt the sickening migraine aura of a caesure caesure slam into existence among the hills. slam into existence among the hills.

Whirling, she scrambled to focus her senses. Around her, Giants turned, scanning the horizons swiftly. Groaning to himself, Bhapa hastened toward Manethrall Mahrtiir.

"Protect Anele!" the old man gasped frantically. "He is the hope of the Land! It It seeks him!" seeks him!"

"It is there, Chosen," Stave announced, pointing into the northeast. "It writhes a league or more distant. At present, it does not threaten us. Yet it seethes toward us. If it does not veer aside or disperse itself, you must oppose it."

He was right. As soon as Linden located the Fall, she felt it clearly: a miasma of corruption as vicious as a swarm of hornets, and as ma.s.sive as Revelstone's watchtower, chewing its way through the Law of Time. It lurched from side to side, apparently reacting to the whims and impulses of Joan's madness rather than to the terrain. But it was coming- d.a.m.n it! it!

"Stave's discernment is certain," growled the Ironhand. "A great evil advances against us. Its path is erratic, aye, yet it hastens in its own fashion. If we do not scatter before it, we must have some other defense.

"Is this a caesure caesure? A Fall? You have spoken of such wrongs, but ere now we have not beheld their like."

No one answered her. "Whatever you're going to do," Covenant snapped at Liand, "do it soon. Joan won't stop with just one. Turiya Turiya won't let her. She'll keep trying until she finds the range." won't let her. She'll keep trying until she finds the range."

Linden jerked a look at the croyel croyel-and nearly wailed. The creature's whole face radiated triumph like a cynosure.

For the s.p.a.ce of a heartbeat, she froze while her entire reality split into fragments. A dismembered part of her recalled inhabiting Joan's mind in the core of a Fall: a lorn figure who should have perished long ago; a madwoman so weak and wounded that only turiya turiya Raver's compulsion and the ministrations of the Raver's compulsion and the ministrations of the skest skest kept her alive. Standing between thrashing seas and a wilderland of rubble, she used blasts of wild magic to destroy small pieces of stone and Time, creating kept her alive. Standing between thrashing seas and a wilderland of rubble, she used blasts of wild magic to destroy small pieces of stone and Time, creating caesures caesures from the riven remains of granite; of sequence and causality. Nothing except her broken humanity and her inability to make her own choices prevented her from tearing the whole Arch from its foundations. from the riven remains of granite; of sequence and causality. Nothing except her broken humanity and her inability to make her own choices prevented her from tearing the whole Arch from its foundations.

At the same time, another part of Linden gaped mutely at the croyel croyel, crying, Why aren't you afraid afraid? Surely the creature was in the same danger? Surely the merest touch of a Fall would destroy the croyel croyel as effectively as any physical death? as effectively as any physical death?

Why was turiya turiya Herem willing to risk the destruction of a monster that both Roger and Lord Foul wanted alive? Herem willing to risk the destruction of a monster that both Roger and Lord Foul wanted alive?

But Linden had no time for this. When her heart beat again, her scattered mind sprang back into focus.

"Go!" With a shove, she sent Liand toward Jeremiah. "Save him if you can! Caesures Caesures are are my my problem!" problem!"

Then she swung the Staff of Law and begged it for fire.

If Joan struck again, and closer-If the Raver could impose that much coherence- A moment later, dark flames bloomed from the Staff; and some of the aftereffects of wielding white gold left her. This conflagration was hers in spite of its compelled blackness: it felt right in her hands. And she was not Joan. She could choose. Earthpower and Law could heal the harm of wild magic. As long as Joan did not contrive to strike the exact place where Linden stood, the exact moment, Linden would be able to protect Liand.

"Ringwielder, no!" Pahni cried. "You must not permit this! I implore you! The peril is too great!"

She meant the peril to Liand.

"Cord!" barked Mahrtiir harshly. "Be silent! This matter is not ours to adjudge."

Pahni ignored her Manethrall. "Liand, please please. You are my love! I will beseech you on my knees, if that will sway you. Leave this hazard to those who are not so loved."

Linden watched the coming storm of evil and readied herself. But she studied Liand more closely than she regarded the caesure caesure, praying that he would not falter. That the Sunstone would not crumble to dust in his fist.

Liand turned from Jeremiah to wrap his arms around Pahni. So quietly that Linden barely heard him, he told the Cord, "Fear for me, my love. I fear for myself. Yet in Linden Avery's company, and in your embrace, and in orcrest orcrest, I have found myself when I had not known that I was lost. If I do not give of my utmost here, I will become less than my aspirations. I will prove unworthy of the gifts which I have discovered in you."

"But if you are slain-!" Pahni moaned.