The Fatal Revenant Part 30

Then her nerves began to adjust. Slowly her vision cleared.

She and her companions were on a stone shelf at the edge of a stream nearly broad enough to be called a river. Jeremiah's construct had brought them to a cavern as high and wide as the forehall of Revelstone. The arching rock was crude, unfashioned: clearly the cavern was a natural formation. But all of its facets had been worn smooth by millennia of spray and Earthpower.

And they radiated a ruddy illumination that filled the cave. The particular hue of the glow-soft crimson with a fulvous undertone-made the rushing current look black and dangerous, more like ichor than water. The stone seemed to contemplate lava, imagine magma. It remained gently warm, stubbornly solid. Nevertheless it implied the possibility that it might one day flow and burn.

Linden had seen illumination like this before, in the Wightwarrens under Mount Thunder. Covenant had called it "rocklight," and it was inherent to certain combinations of stone and Earthpower. It had not been caused by Jeremiah's theurgy. Instead his portal had temporarily blinded her to the lambent stone, the tumbling stream. Spray and warmth and Earthpower had entered through the gaps among the branches: light had not.

In spite of the water's speed and turbulence, it was utterly silent. It raced along its course without the slightest gurgle or slap. She might have believed that she had been stricken deaf; that the concentration of Earthpower was too acute for her ears. But then she heard Covenant speak.

"Good," he announced for the third time. "We're almost there."

Only the water had been silenced by the weight of Earthpower.

Involuntarily Linden's gaze followed the current as it spilled into a crevice at the end of the cavern. But when she turned her head in the other direction, she felt a rush of astonishment. The source of the stream-and the fine spray-was a high waterfall that spewed from the cave's ceiling and pounded in turmoil down onto a pile of slick stones and boulders at the head of the watercourse. Every plume and spatter of the torrent caught the fiery light in a profuse scattering of reflections: the waterfall resembled a downpour of rubies and carbuncles, incarnadine gemstones; profligate instances of Earthpower. Yet the towering spectacle was entirely soundless. The bedizened tumult of spume and collision had no voice.

"How-'?" Linden breathed the question aloud simply to confirm that she could still hear. "How is it possible'?"

She did not expect an answer. But Covenant muttered, "Beats the h.e.l.l out of me. I've never understood it. There's probably just too much Earthpower here for our senses to handle."

Like the waterfall, the spray on his face sparkled redly. His features were webbed with droplets of light and eagerness.

"That's just water," he said, dismissing the lit implications of the falls. "When it finds its way out of the mountain, it'll be the Black River. But the Blood of the Earth comes in here. It leaks out through those rocks." He indicated the foot of the waterfall. "That's what causes all this rocklight. Earthpower has soaked into the stone. But it's too thin for what we need. We have to get to the source."

Linden could see no obvious way in or out of the cavern. But Covenant pointed at the waterfall. "Through there."

"There's a tunnel on the other side," added Jeremiah. His muddy gaze had a.s.sumed the color of hunger; avarice. The corner of his eye beat frenetically. In his right hand, his halfhand, he clutched his racecar as though it were a talisman. It leads to the place where the EarthBlood oozes out of the rock. That's where we have to go. Covenant has to drink right from the source. Otherwise there's no Power of Command."

"But how?" Linden asked weakly. "That much water-We'll be washed away."

For a moment, Covenant looked at her directly; let her see rocklight like coals in his eyes. In the presence of more Earthpower than she had exerted since the time when she first formed her Staff of Law and unmade the Sunbane, he showed no sign of strain; gave no hint that he could be effaced.

Grinning avidly, he replied, "No, we won't. wasn't when Elena brought me here. You'll probably have to crawl. But you can do it. All this Earthpower-It's making you stronger. You just don't feel the difference because there's so much more of it."p> wasn't when Elena brought me here. You'll probably have to crawl. But you can do it. All this Earthpower-It's making you stronger. You just don't feel the difference because there's so much more of it."p> Then he turned back to the falls as though he had no more attention to spare for her. Motioning for Jeremiah to join him, he moved toward the gemmed cascade.

Jeremiah complied at once. Side by side, he and Covenant headed through the spray to essay the wet jumble of rocks.

As she watched them stride away, panic tugged at Linden again. She had to blink constantly at the sting of puissance; could hardly breathe against the might and dampness of the mist. Reflections of rocklight confused her, threatening her balance. Covenant was wrong. She could not withstand that torrential ma.s.s of water.

But she had already made her decision. She had to try- For a moment longer, she watched Covenant and Jeremiah take their first steps into the waterfall. As they ascended the clutter of stone, she saw forces which should have crushed them crash onto their heads and shoulders, and splash away swathed in jewels. At erratic intervals, the mountain's epitonic bones trembled.

Then, fiercely, she set down the Staff so that she could fling off both her robe and her cloak: protections which she had been given by people who wanted to help her. She did not need them in the warm cavern. And she feared that their weight when they became soaked would drag her to her death.

Clad only in her red flannel shirt, her jeans, and her boots, as she had been when she had first left her home to pursue Roger Covenant and his victims, Linden Avery took up the Staff and set herself to bear the brunt of the waterfall.

Spray drenched her before she reached the falls itself. Her face streamed: her shirt and jeans clung to her skin. She felt a fright akin to the alarm which had afflicted her at the Mithil's Plunge. Ahead of her lay a fatal pa.s.sage in which everything that she had known and understood might be transmogrified into the stuff of nightmares.

As soon as she felt the first impact of the falls, she knew that she would not be able to climb the rocks standing. The worn granite and obsidian were as slick as glazed ice, and the water had the weight of an avalanche. Helpless to do otherwise, she dropped to her hands and knees. Then she wedged one end of the Staff into a crack between the stones and pulled herself up the shaft as if it were a lifeline.

The wood was smooth and wet: perhaps it should have been as slippery as the rocks and boulders; as unreliable. But she had fashioned it out of love and grief and her pa.s.sion for healing. Her hands did not lose their grip as she crept slowly deeper into the full force of the waterfall.

It threatened to smash her; carry her away. She could not draw breath. Nevertheless she dragged herself along the Staff until she found a place where she could jam one arm securely among the stones. Anch.o.r.ed there, she used her free hand to haul the Staff after her and brace its iron heel against a boulder. Then she worked her way up its length again while the falls bludgeoned her, filled her eyes and nose and mouth, tore at her clothes.

Once more she anch.o.r.ed herself, raised the Staff higher, gripped it desperately so that she could climb the rocks. And before she reached the end of the shaft, her head emerged from the pitiless cascade into complete darkness.

Gasping, she scrambled out of the waterfall onto flat stone. Her arms and legs quivered as though she had ascended a precipice: she felt too weak to shake the water out of her eyes. No glint or suggestion of rocklight penetrated the falls. She crouched over the Staff in untrammeled midnight. If her companions made any sound-if they waited for her instead of hastening toward their destination-she did not hear it. She only knew that she could hear because her gasping seemed to spread out ahead of her, adumbrated by the constriction of granite.

The rock under her was as slick as the stones of the waterfall. It was not wet; had not been worn to treachery by ages of water. Rather it resisted contact. The scent and taste of Earthpower was far more concentrated here, so thick and poignant that it made her weep: too potent to condone the touch of ordinary flesh. Stone which had become half metaphysical spurned her hands, her knees, her boots.

And the smell-The odor of distilled strength swamped all of her senses.

She foundered in it. It transcended her as profoundly as any caesure, although it held no wrongness. In its own way, it was as immense and fraught with ma.s.s as Melenkurion Skyweir. Her mere brief mortality could not encompa.s.s it.

Instinctively she pressed her forehead to the stone, performing an act of obeisance to the sovereign vitality of Earthpower.

The wood of the Staff had become hot. It radiated heat as if it had been forged of molten iron. It should have burned her unbearably; scalded the skin from her fingers; set fire to her drenched clothing. But it did not. It was hers. Her relationship with it enabled her to hold it, unharmed, in spite of its inherent response to the EarthBlood's extravagance.

A tunnel, Jeremiah had said. On the other side.

Still she heard nothing. Covenant and Jeremiah must have gone on ahead of her. Covenant had told her that if she did not drink the Blood of the Earth immediately after he and Jeremiah disappeared, she might be too late to save her son from the consequences of Joan's death. Yet they had left her behind.

She needed light. And she needed to be able to stand on stone which repulsed every touch. If she could not catch up with her companions- "She made it," Covenant remarked abruptly. Linden thought that she heard satisfaction in his voice.

I can't do it without you.

He bore the flagrant hazard of the tunnel easily, as though it had no power to affect him. He had lied about his reasons for seeking to avoid Berek Halfhand's touch. And hers.

"I told you she would." Jeremiah sounded like the darkness. "You did, when you were with Elena. And you weren't half as strong as she is."

Just be wary of me. Remember that I'm dead.

Tears coursed from Linden's eyes. She could not stop them.

"Jeremiah, honey," she panted, still braced on her hands and knees as if in supplication. "where are you? I can't see."

The peril of your chosen path I deemed too great. Therefore I have set you upon another.

But if Jeremiah possessed the ability to construct portals which would foil the perceptions of even the Elohim, surely he could evade High Lord Damelon's discernment? Where was the peril? What had the Theomach meant? Had he simply been ignorant of Jeremiah's talent? Or had he foreseen some more oblique danger?

I do not desire the destruction of the Earth. If you are wise*if wisdom is possible for one such as you-you also will not desire it.

f.u.c.k them all.

Without warning, a sulfurous illumination blossomed in the darkness.

Light with the hue and reek of brimstone shone from the clenched fist of Covenant's halfhand. Through her reflexive weeping, Linden saw him and Jeremiah. They were no more than two or three strides away.

Both of them seemed taut with impatience or excitement.

Beyond them, a tunnel as straight as a tightened string led away from the waterfall into fathomless night. Its ceiling was little more than an arm's span above Covenant's head; but the pa.s.sage was wide enough for two or three people to walk abreast beside a small rill running toward the falls.

In the red and charlock glow, the fluid of the rivulet had the rich deep color of arterial blood. And it shouted, yelled, positively howled of Earthpower.

It was the living Blood of the Earth. It had seemed pure in the cavern of the waterfall, but it was more so here; far more. Nothing that Linden had ever done with her Staff could match the absolute cleanliness and vitality of the liquid flowing past her.

Somewhere beyond Covenant and Jeremiah lay their destination.

"Come on, Linden," Covenant said harshly. "You don't have to grovel here. It's undignified. And I'm sick to death of waiting."

He wanted her to stand. She needed to stand. He may have recognized the lie when she had said, We're clear. That was possible. He may have remembered her well enough- Why had he and Jeremiah waited for her? Was Covenant honest after all? More honest than she had been? Or did he simply want her to witness what he did, for good or ill?

All right," she muttered through her teeth. "Give me a minute."

Perhaps he feared that she would attack him from behind if he did not wait; that she would dare-If she had made her suspicions too obvious- Wherever she placed her hands, they tried to skid out from under her. She could not trust her weight to them. And her boots might have been coated with oil. Every shift of her balance threatened her with slippage.

But the Staff had been formed for Earthpower. When she braced one of its heels on the rock, it held; gave her an anchor.

Carefully, by small increments, she rose to her feet. Still she felt her boots trying to slide away. One slip would pitch her onto her face. But the Staff gripped the stone, and she clung to the Staff.

"Are you ready?" demanded Covenant.

"h.e.l.lfire, Linden, it's not that hard. did it, and I didn't have your d.a.m.n Staff."p> did it, and I didn't have your d.a.m.n Staff."p> She ignored the embers glaring in his eyes; did not risk gazing directly at his fiery halfhand. Instead she looked at her son. Facing the hunger which distorted the color of his irises, the fervid clutch of his halfhand around his racecar, the frantic cipher of his tic, she tried to accept them, and found that she could not.

Silently, hardly moving her lips, she said, If I'm wrong, I'm sorry. Try to forgive me.

Then she threw herself headlong toward her companions; stretched out into a dive along the glazed surface of the stone.

In a flare of brimstone surprise and fury, both Covenant and Jeremiah leapt aside. Cursing viciously, Covenant hugged the tunnel wall opposite the rill of EarthBlood. Tense with shock, Jeremiah did the same. Neither of them lost their footing.

Linden landed heavily; skidded past them. As she hit the stone, she slid, and went on sliding, as if she would never stop. She felt only the impact: no friction, no abrasion; nothing that would slow her. She wanted that. She counted on it. Otherwise Covenant and Jeremiah might get ahead of her again.

But her slide took her closer to the rivulet. She did not know what would happen if she plunged into the Blood of the Earth, but she doubted that she would survive an immersion. More by instinct than intention, she dragged one heel of the Staff along the stone.

The iron seemed to meet no resistance. Nevertheless she began to lose momentum. Within half a dozen paces-and mere inches from the rill-she coasted to a halt.

Covenant's curses followed her down the tunnel. They drew closer as he and Jeremiah rushed to catch up with her.

Shedding incessant tears, Linden called yellow flame like sunshine out of the Staff; a sheet of fire from the entire length of the wood. For an instant, her fire guttered as if it were humbled in the EarthBlood's presence. Then it shone forth strongly. And while her blaze lit the tunnel, she used that exertion of Earthpower to secure her footing so that she could stand. Then she wheeled to confront her companions as though they had become her foes.

Covenant stamped to a halt a few paces away from her. The fire had fallen out of his hand: he stood glaring at her with no light on his visage except hers. Jeremiah came a step closer, then stopped as well. His precious face was bright with dismay.

"h.e.l.lfire and b.l.o.o.d.y d.a.m.nation, Linden!" raged Covenant. "What the f.u.c.k do you think you're doing'?"

"Mom, what's wrong'?" panted Jeremiah. "Did you fall? Are you hurt? Are you trying to banish us?"

The wood that you claim must defy them-Linden gripped her Staff grimly and did not falter. You must be the first to drink of the EarthBlood. She stood between her companions and their goal.

Indirectly Esmer had prepared her for her encounter with the Viles. Had he also betrayed her?

"Oh, stop," she breathed heavily, feigning anger to disguise her sorrow and resolve. "I'm obviously not going to 'banish' you. You've never been in any danger. There's more power here than I could ever muster. It doesn't bother you. And when Berek touched you-"

She left the rest of her protest unsaid. Covenant and Jeremiah had some other reason for rejecting contact with her. But she did not waste her scant strength on recriminations. When Covenant started to swear again, she took a step backward. And another.

"You said that you want to be clear," she reminded him. Her voice was husky with effort and Earthpower. "So do I. I don't"-she grimaced-"trust this situation."

"Linden." Covenant suddenly became calm. He kept his gaze away from hers; did not let her see his eyes. But he sounded almost gentle. "You don't have to make a fight out of this. Talk to us. Tell us what you want. We'll figure it out together."

She continued moving slowly backward. She could not see either him or Jeremiah clearly. Her vision was an irredeemable smear of tears. But her tears were not weeping, and her nose ran only because it was stung by Earthpower.

"So you say." Even now she lied without hesitation. "Here's the problem. I can't debate with you anymore." If Covenant carried out his stated intentions-and if she succeeded at saving her son-she would be abandoned here, ten thousand years away from where she belonged. "You'll come up with too many arguments, and I won't be able to think." Her mere presence and power in this time might suffice to alter the Land's history; unmake the Arch. The Thomas Covenant whom she had known would not have asked or expected that of her. "So I'm just going to drink the EarthBlood first. I'm going to get Jeremiah away from Lord Foul with his mind whole. I'll make sure that he can stay in the Land after Joan dies. Then I'll get out of your way and let you do whatever you want."

"Mom!" Jeremiah protested urgently. If you do that, I will vanish. I won't be with you anymore!"

Still retreating along the tunnel, Linden gazed at him through her tears. "I believe you." A surge of grief slipped past her self-command. Then she forced it down. "I'll never see you again. But at least I'll know that you're safe."

Another faint shudder undermined the stone, but she did not lose her balance.

If she severed the bond between her son and Covenant, Covenant might become honest. But she did not intend to rely on that slim possibility.

If you err in this, your losses will be greater than you are able to conceive.

"d.a.m.nation, Linden." Covenant still spoke calmly, although he crowded after her with an air of desperation. "It isn't that simple. What makes you think I can stand by while you use the Power of Command? You're the only one of us who's real enough to survive forces on that scale."

He and Jeremiah pushed toward her. Yet they did not risk coming near enough to be touched by her fire. Upheld by the Staff, she took one step after another.

She could feel the crushing ma.s.s of the mountain lean over her. It seemed to hold its breath as though it awaited her decision; her actions. You serve a purpose not your own, and have no purpose. That may have been true earlier. It was not true now.

The intensity in the air increased. It exceeded Linden's ability to measure its increments-and went on increasing. The untrammeled might of the EarthBlood acc.u.mulated at her back.

"I'm not so sure," she retorted, still pretending ire which she did not feel. "You're part of the Arch of Time. There's nothing you can't do."

She had seen Thomas Covenant become a being of incarnate wild magic. Even the imponderable capabilities of the Elohim would be too weak to contain him. He could have brushed aside their interference. If he feared them, he had some other reason.

"h.e.l.lfire!" he countered more hotly. "That isn't how it works. Right now, I'm as mortal as you are. You've got my ring. You've even got your d.a.m.n Staff. I've got nothing. And your kid has less than that.

"When I was here before"-he lowered his voice again-"/ had my ring. That's the only reason I wasn't wiped off the face of the Earth when Elena summoned Kevin. Without it, I'm vulnerable. Why do you think I had to let the Theomach push me around? Why do you think I've been worried about the Elohim? While I'm in two places at once, two different kinds of reality, I'm practically crippled."

Linden took another step backward, and another, holding the Staff of Law alight. She could not gain what she needed by any form of argument or persuasion. Through Anele, Covenant had told her, I can't help you unless you find me. Then he had ridden into Revelstone with her son on the strength of his own will? No. Either the being who had spoken to her days ago had deliberately misled her, or the man who stood before her now was false in ways that exceeded her imagination.

"Maybe that's true," she muttered through her teeth. "Maybe it isn't. I really don't care." If her son had let her touch him, she might not have been able to go on lying. But he and Covenant gave her nothing which would have compelled her to tell the truth. "I only care about Jeremiah. I'm going to save him. The Land is your problem."

He should have known that she was lying. He and Jeremiah both should have known.

Then the tunnel expanded into a widening like a cul-de-sac; and at once, every nerve in her body recognized that she had reached the source of the EarthBlood. Covenant and Jeremiah might not attempt to rush her through the flame of the Staff, but she could not be sure. She trusted nothing. Facing the rill, she turned sideways so that she could glance into the end of the pa.s.sage without losing sight of her companions.

At the back of the cave, a rude plane of stone as black as obsidian or ebony protruded like the exposed face of a lode from the surrounding granite.

Peering at it, Linden blinked furiously, strove to clear her sight. The dark wet rock appeared to shimmer: its sharpness and stark purity overwhelmed her eyes. Through the blur, she seemed to see a facet of weakness in the substance of reality, a place of distortion where the tangible rock and the possibilities of Earthpower merged.

From the whole surface of the plane seeped the gravid liquid of the EarthBlood. Trickling down the face of the lode, it gathered in a shallow trough before it flowed thickly away down the length of the tunnel.