Against All Things Ending Part 68

Nothing changed. Here there was no possibility of change.

Nonetheless Branl put his hand on Covenant's left elbow. Clyme grasped the right.

Together they lifted Covenant's arms until he could see Loric's krill krill clenched in both of his numbed hands. clenched in both of his numbed hands.

Oh, they were Haruchai Haruchai! They lived in each other's thoughts. They could carry the burden of too much time without faltering. And they stayed away from Joan. They had that power; that salvific intransigence. Stave had done the same. Even when he could have witnessed the private writhing of Linden's spirit, he had held himself apart.

The dagger's shining did not pierce Covenant's sight. His eyes were frozen. They had been chewed out of their orbits. Mere radiance could not blind him to what he saw; what he had seen; what he would always see. It was only wild magic. It was not redemption.

But it was was wild magic, an inherent and inextricable aspect of the Arch of Time. It added a new dimension to the overlapping realities of his helplessness. wild magic, an inherent and inextricable aspect of the Arch of Time. It added a new dimension to the overlapping realities of his helplessness.

While Clyme and Branl supported him-while they upheld the krill krill's transcendence-he saw more than the flat plain; more than swarming hornets; more than Joan's reiterated suffering.

He also saw her as if from the outside. As if he were present in her present.

She stood ankle-deep in muck and water surrounded by jagged rocks and cruel reefs. Somehow she had crept or clambered several hundred paces across the seabed. Now she faced the blasted cliff where Foul's Creche had fallen. Under the sealed doom of the night sky, she faced Covenant and the Humbled.

In her trembling fist, she clutched her wedding band with its chain wrapped around it.

Her knuckles were raw. Blood pulsed from the sore on her temple where she had punched and punched herself. In its own way, her self-abuse matched Covenant's bleeding forehead. Blood made streaks of anguish down her sunken cheek. It stained the filth and tatters of her hospital gown. Rage blazed like the krill krill in her eyes. A rictus bared her few remaining teeth. The gaps in her gums oozed more blood. It marked her mouth as though she fed on living flesh. in her eyes. A rictus bared her few remaining teeth. The gaps in her gums oozed more blood. It marked her mouth as though she fed on living flesh.

From his prison inside her mind, Covenant saw that she also saw him. She saw the Humbled and Loric's bright weapon as if they had all stepped out of her madness to confront her.

Watching himself and his companions while he also watched her, Covenant saw that he and Branl and Clyme were making their way toward her. Awash in silver, they traversed the unfathomable dark. Together they pa.s.sed around boulders sharp enough to shred their flesh, avoided fingers of coral that reached for them like blades, splashed through puddles and pools left behind by the indrawn ocean.

On all sides as far as the light of the krill krill extended, waters and gasping fish and sea-plants quivered in the shocks of distant convulsions. But such things did not trouble Joan. She extended, waters and gasping fish and sea-plants quivered in the shocks of distant convulsions. But such things did not trouble Joan. She wanted wanted the tsunami. It could not come soon enough. the tsunami. It could not come soon enough.

Staring through her appalled eyes, Covenant saw himself and the krill krill and the Humbled advance toward her like the approach of horror: the ultimate apotheosis of her despair. and the Humbled advance toward her like the approach of horror: the ultimate apotheosis of her despair.

None of this was real: he understood that. It was a mirage of movement and sequence made possible by Loric's lore and Joan's wild magic, nothing more; a mere figment. Nothing had changed. Nothing could change. He remained lost in his last Fall. His own abyss would never release him.

But that did not matter. It was irrelevant. Meaningless. Because Joan believed what she saw. Partic.i.p.ating in her thoughts, Covenant knew that she believed he had come for her.

She believed that he meant to finish what he had started when he had married and betrayed her; when he had afflicted her with a cruel son. The man whom she most loathed and feared: the man who haunted her worst terrors. The man who had made her what she was.

And she had no skest skest to defend her. The Raver had sent them all to oppose Covenant among the Shattered Hills. to defend her. The Raver had sent them all to oppose Covenant among the Shattered Hills.

With a shriek that seemed to split the world, she raised her fist. Striking at her forehead, she unleashed a blast savage enough to incinerate an entire legion of Thomas Covenants and Haruchai Haruchai.

The krill krill accepted her attack. Its jewel became a sun in Covenant's grasp. Some of her force the dagger simply dissipated. Some it absorbed until its edges became sharp enough to cut through the boundaries between realities. accepted her attack. Its jewel became a sun in Covenant's grasp. Some of her force the dagger simply dissipated. Some it absorbed until its edges became sharp enough to cut through the boundaries between realities.

Nevertheless a portion of her fury hit him.

It did not kill him outright because he was not real. He had no physical existence, and so he could not be extirpated from her nightmares. But he was still vulnerable. She created caesures caesures with wild magic. She could affect what happened within them. with wild magic. She could affect what happened within them.

She could hurt him.

In the multiplied simultaneous instants of impact, Covenant finally understood why Lord Foul had not forbidden turiya turiya Raver to endanger Jeremiah with Falls. Yes, the Despiser burned to possess Jeremiah's gifts; to control them. And Linden's son would be forever unattainable if he were lost within a Raver to endanger Jeremiah with Falls. Yes, the Despiser burned to possess Jeremiah's gifts; to control them. And Linden's son would be forever unattainable if he were lost within a caesure caesure. Eventually the destruction of the Arch of Time would destroy him also. But if wild magic enabled Joan to take action inside her temporal maelstroms, turiya turiya could do the same through her. In effect, therefore, could do the same through her. In effect, therefore, turiya turiya Herem had the power to s.n.a.t.c.h Jeremiah back from chaos. Lord Foul could recapture the boy and use him. Herem had the power to s.n.a.t.c.h Jeremiah back from chaos. Lord Foul could recapture the boy and use him.

But no foe of the Land would choose to recapture Covenant. Joan's force hurled him away. It pounded him against rocks and shoals.

The Humbled did not move to catch him. They did not react at all. Instead they stood rigid as death, frozen in timeless ice and hornets.

Their pa.s.sivity was turiya turiya's doing. The Raver lived within Joan. He ruled her. As much as her madness permitted, he guided her rage. Riding her fire, he had reached into the Fall and mastered Clyme and Branl.

They were done. They did not exist. They had never existed.

But- h.e.l.lfire!

But- h.e.l.l and blood! blood!

-Joan's blow had other effects as well: effects which Herem had not intended, and could not prevent. It increased the implicit puissance of the krill krill, yes. That was important. It was necessary. But her violence also cast Covenant out of her mind. It externalized externalized him. She could not end his life while he was absent in chaos, and so her hunger for retribution began to make him real. Physically present. him. She could not end his life while he was absent in chaos, and so her hunger for retribution began to make him real. Physically present.

Inadvertently her despair resurrected him in front of her.

And the complex lore galvanized in Loric's blade reinforced Covenant's manifestation. It enhanced his substance. His grip on it quickened his translation out of the caesure caesure.

Already the gelid wilderness was fraying; evaporating. The firestorm of severed instants lost some of its ferocity. He was no longer trapped inside Joan.

If she struck him again, she would make him fully present.

But the same blow would also incinerate him. With one more bolt of silver lightning, she would finally rid herself of the ghoul which had haunted her suffering.

Until then, however-until she punched herself once more, transformed her intimate agony into coruscation- Try it, Covenant panted. Try Try it. Try to survive it yourself. You've been making too many it. Try to survive it yourself. You've been making too many caesures caesures. You exhausted yourself getting here. You're so weak you can hardly stand. So go on. Try Try to kill me without burning out your own heart. to kill me without burning out your own heart.

While she groped for her last strength, he had things to do.

Shaking in pain, he struggled to his feet.

She had hit him hard. He had landed hard. His chest felt like a jumble of fractured ribs. Rocks and coral had torn strips from his jeans and T-shirt. They had shredded his arms and torso, parts of his legs. Blood ran from his forehead and a score of other wounds. Every beat of his pulse spilled more of his humanity. He was scarcely able to swallow or draw breath or hold himself upright.

Nevertheless he stumbled toward Joan with the krill krill clenched in his fists and his own storm glaring in his eyes. clenched in his fists and his own storm glaring in his eyes.

I'm sorry you've been through so much. I really am. But this is the wrong answer. It's possible to be in pain without hating yourself and the whole world. You don't have the right to make everybody else feel the same way you do.

She blinked at his staggering approach. Her wild eyes were empty of comprehension. She was not alarmed to see him coming closer with his incandescent dagger. Here the power was hers, not his. She would hit herself again. Hurl another bolt of wild magic. Flay the skin from his bones; burn out his soul. As soon as he came close enough. As soon as she was able to lift her arm.

In her own way, she was no longer afraid.

And the Humbled could not help him. They were still caught in the caesure caesure. They did not exist in any defined time.

But turiya turiya saw more than Joan did; understood more. He knew what was happening to Covenant. He knew what the saw more than Joan did; understood more. He knew what was happening to Covenant. He knew what the krill krill could do. could do.

In spite of his eager rapture, the Raver lived within Joan's weakness. With torment and coercion, he could direct her outbursts; but he also shared her physical frailty, her prolonged emotional inanition. That was the price he paid for possessing possessing her. He could not exceed her limitations through her. her. He could not exceed her limitations through her.

Nonetheless turiya turiya Herem retained his own powers. He could exert them. He delivered his separate a.s.sault while Covenant was still ten ravaged paces away. Herem retained his own powers. He could exert them. He delivered his separate a.s.sault while Covenant was still ten ravaged paces away.

He did not try to enter Covenant. He was unwilling to relinquish Joan. And he had reason to believe that Covenant knew how to defy him. Covenant had twice defeated the Despiser- Unlike Joan, however, turiya turiya recognized that Covenant had other vulnerabilities. Instead of striving to rule Covenant, the Raver turned Covenant's reincarnation against him. recognized that Covenant had other vulnerabilities. Instead of striving to rule Covenant, the Raver turned Covenant's reincarnation against him.

Reaching out, turiya turiya tripped Covenant's mind. A dark hand of thought sent Covenant sprawling into one of the fissures that flawed his ability to stand in his own present. tripped Covenant's mind. A dark hand of thought sent Covenant sprawling into one of the fissures that flawed his ability to stand in his own present.

Instantly Joan and wild magic and turiya turiya Herem and the Humbled and the Herem and the Humbled and the krill krill and the emptied seabed lost their immediacy; their importance. In one form or another, they all still occupied the living moments before Joan summoned the will to complete Covenant's death. Stubbornly Branl and Clyme strained to alter what had happened to them. But Covenant did not. He could not. A wall like leprosy stood between him and his mortality. It was transparent. He could see what lay beyond it. But it was also incurable. It enclosed him until nothing mattered except memory. and the emptied seabed lost their immediacy; their importance. In one form or another, they all still occupied the living moments before Joan summoned the will to complete Covenant's death. Stubbornly Branl and Clyme strained to alter what had happened to them. But Covenant did not. He could not. A wall like leprosy stood between him and his mortality. It was transparent. He could see what lay beyond it. But it was also incurable. It enclosed him until nothing mattered except memory.

For a time, he remembered the stasis which the Elohim Elohim had once imposed on him. They had rendered him utterly helpless-and perfectly aware of it. By that means, they had sought to prevent him from endangering the Arch while they manipulated Linden; while they tried to make of her their chosen instrument. He remembered had once imposed on him. They had rendered him utterly helpless-and perfectly aware of it. By that means, they had sought to prevent him from endangering the Arch while they manipulated Linden; while they tried to make of her their chosen instrument. He remembered Bhrathairealm Bhrathairealm, and Kasreyn of the Gyre, and the Sandgorgon Nom.

Fortunately that recollection was brief. He fell again, or slipped aside, and was set free.

From stasis, he walked with the ease of youth and vigor back into the comfortable shade of a remnant of the One Forest.

He knew this region. After centuries of killing and bitter loss, the Forest here had dwindled until it became Morinmoss between the borders of Andelain and the Plains of Ra. Still this portion of the woodland, like others elsewhere, retained its intended grandeur. These were trees that knew abundant sunshine and rain, enjoyed deep loam. Most of them were h.o.a.ry monarchs bestrewn with creepers and draped in moss, trees like oak and sycamore and cypress that spread their roots and their boughs wide, crowding out lesser vegetation. There were saplings, certainly. There were deadfalls, and trunks blasted by lightning, and vast kings perishing of old age. But such things were natural to forests. And few of them obstructed the ground. Covenant could walk where he willed without hindrance. Blessed by fecundity and shade, he could have run if he had felt any desire or need to do so.

He was in no hurry. He remembered where he was going, and the way was not far.

Guided by the gentle contours of hills, he came to a rich glade like a coronal display of wildflowers and long gra.s.s. Reveling in sunlight, he walked out from among the trees to watch with wonder as Forestals came together in conclave.

All of them. Together. Here. For the first time-and for the last. Some who would soon pa.s.s away. Others who endured for centuries or millennia, faithful to their tasks among the trees, and to their growing wrath, and to their woe. All of them.

They were singing a song that Covenant knew by heart.

Branches spread and tree trunks grow Branches spread and tree trunks grow Through rain and heat and snow and cold; Though wide world's winds untimely blow, And earthquakes rock and cliff unseal, My leaves grow green and seedlings bloom.

Since days before the Earth was old And Time began its walk to doom, The Forests world's bare rock anneal, Forbidding dusty waste and death.

I am the Land's Creator's hold: I inhale all expiring breath, And breathe out life to bind and heal.

Unseen within the Arch, unknown to the Forestals, Covenant had often stood witness to this scene. He loved it with his whole heart.

Caerroil Wildwood was here, and Cav-Morin Fernhold. Dh.o.r.ehold of the Dark. One who was called the Magister of Andelain; and another who named himself Syr Embattled, doing what he could to defend Giant Woods. Others. All of them. In their times, they had been the exigent guardians of everything precious in the Land: precious and doomed. Here they were wreathed in music and magic, the poignant, potent sorrow of their striving to slow the ineluctable murder of trees.

Yet something about the scene troubled Covenant: something that was not woe or regret or ire. He was surely entranced; but he was also disturbed. In some fashion that he did not know how to identify, the conclave of the Forestals was not as he remembered it. It had become flat flat: too superficial to be true. It resembled a masque performed by smaller beings, accurate in every detail, yet somehow less than it should have been.

If the trees and the glade and the Forestals had been anything other than a memory, Covenant might have concluded that he had lost his health-sense. He could not see in see in, and so he could not truly see at all.

Joan was too strong for him. Turiya Turiya Herem was too strong. If they did not kill him, he would never survive the tsunami. Herem was too strong. If they did not kill him, he would never survive the tsunami.

Linden might hang on for a few more days. Then she, too, would perish.

He had abandoned her as though he had never loved her.

Without warning, the Forestals began to transgress his recollection of them.

Together they sang, "Only rock and wood know the truth of the Earth. The truth of life."

"But wood is too brief," Dh.o.r.ehold of the Dark intoned. "All vastness is forgotten."

"Unsustained," answered Andelain's Magister, "wood cannot remember the lore of the Colossus, the necessary forbidding of evils-"

"There is too much," the Forestals agreed as one. "Power and peril. Malevolence. Ruin."

"And too little time," added Syr Embattled. "The last days of the Land are counted. Without forbidding, there is too little time."

Like an antiphonal response, the Forestals chanted, "Become as trees, the roots of trees. Seek deep rock."

No! Covenant protested. He felt abruptly wounded; pierced to the soul. No No. This isn't what happened. This isn't what I heard.

While the last notes of their litany faded among the trees, Cav-Morin Fernhold walked away from his comrades to look directly at Covenant.

Directly at at Covenant. Covenant.

Who was not there.

"Timewarden," Cav-Morin mused in a melody that wrenched at Covenant's bones, "this is false." He had always been Covenant's favorite among his kind: a gentler spirit who knew when to condone human intrusion even though he did not know why he should do so. In his own way, he had loved the Ranyhyn as much as the Ramen did. "Your presence is false. Can you not discern this?

"Your time lies beyond our ken. You are needed then, not here. You are loved then, not here.

"There must be forbidding. The end must be opposed by the truths of stone and wood, of orcrest orcrest and refusal." and refusal."

With those words, he turned his back. Wearing sunshine like song and glory, he went to rejoin the other Forestals.

His counsel lit recognition like tinder in Covenant's veins.

Suddenly Covenant was full of fire. His nerves burned. His muscles blazed. His heart hammered in his damaged chest. All of his senses opened, and he could smell- Oh, G.o.d.

Smell? d.a.m.nation! He could practically taste taste Herem Kinslaughterer's evil. It was everywhere around him, everywhere: hidden behind every tree, lurking under every leaf, twisting like mockery and malice around every bough. Concealed by sunlight, it boiled and chuckled, delighted with its own cunning. Herem Kinslaughterer's evil. It was everywhere around him, everywhere: hidden behind every tree, lurking under every leaf, twisting like mockery and malice around every bough. Concealed by sunlight, it boiled and chuckled, delighted with its own cunning.

This was turiya turiya's doing, this corruption of the remembered past. He had sent Covenant here to distract him until Joan recovered her failing strength; until she was ready to scatter the instants of his life like dust over the seafloor. But the Raver's power showed through the veil of Covenant's recall.

Still the ploy had succeeded. Turiya Turiya Herem had chosen a memory that Covenant adored. Covenant could have remembered this scene happily until he died. He loved it and the Forestals too much to trust his own discomfort. Herem had chosen a memory that Covenant adored. Covenant could have remembered this scene happily until he died. He loved it and the Forestals too much to trust his own discomfort.

Or the ploy would have succeeded. Perhaps it should have. But the Raver had made a mistake. He had underestimated the sheer might and melody of the Forestals. He had not considered that they might be able to detect his influence; that they might sing against it, opening Covenant's perceptions.

Now Covenant burned with his own fire and abhorrence; his own storm of refusal. And somewhere long ages in the future, millennia after the last Forestal had surrendered his life, Covenant's maimed hands still held the krill krill.

The krill krill was life. It was the instrument of his resurrection, as it was of Hollian's before him. And Joan had increased its magicks. Covenant could use it. With wild magic, he could reclaim his heritage. was life. It was the instrument of his resurrection, as it was of Hollian's before him. And Joan had increased its magicks. Covenant could use it. With wild magic, he could reclaim his heritage.

For centuries, his spirit had extended throughout the Arch of Time. Now he had been severed from it. He would never wield its forces again. But he could understand them. He could grasp the nature and implications of Joan's theurgy. He could call upon them indirectly.

Loric's dagger made that possible. You are the white gold You are the white gold. It enabled him to burn as if he wore a wedding band that matched his ex-wife's.

And if he could burn, he could return to the krill krill. To the moment when he still gripped the krill krill. No memory had the power to hold him back.

Bleeding from more wounds than he could count, Covenant found the path that led toward his present self. At once, he began to work his way along it. And while he arose from the Earth's past, he fused fissures behind him. He closed cracks. Rife with silver fire, he healed breaks until all of them were mended.

Deliberately he annealed fragments of his former being, rendering them inaccessible so that he could be whole.

Like an astral spirit done with wandering, Thomas Covenant reentered his body in front of Joan.

He stood unsteadily among rocks and pools under a night sky as gravid and heavy as the stone of a tomb. The only light came from Loric's blade: it may have been the only light left in the world. In the gem's argent, the seafloor looked garish, ghostly: a nightscape illuminated by lightning or phosph.o.r.escence. Clyme and Branl remained on either side of him; but now they resembled shadows of themselves, tenuous as spectres or dreams, as though they inhabited a dimension of existence which he could scarcely perceive. When he completed his reality, they would be gone, lost among the effects of Joan's madness.