Stephen Donaldson - Fatal Revenant

She believed this even though she had once exerted both argent fire and Earthpower. With Covenant’s ring, she had melded Vain and Findail to form a new Staff of Law; her Staff. Then she had wielded both wild magic and Law to remain in the Land while she ended the Sunbane, began healing its ravages, and restored her friends. And since that time, her Staff had been annealed in EarthBlood; refined with runes. Caerroil Wildwood had granted her new possibilities which she did not fully comprehend.

Nonetheless Esmer and Stave together had assured her that no ordinary flesh could withstand such forces. In Kiril Threndor, when she had taken up Covenant’s ring, his spirit had protected her. His love and her own grief had enabled her to perform feats which should have been impossible. And her summons to the Land had already been half undone: she had not been entirely corporeal. Now her health-sense insisted that she was simply inadequate-too human and frail-to contain or manage Earthpower and white gold simultaneously.

Like her struggles under Melenkurion Skyweir, the Forestal’s runes had not made her strong enough to overcome the hindrance of Kevin’s Dirt.

“On top of that,” she finished bitterly. “I’m helpless whenever Esmer decides to put in an appearance. I don’t know how he does it, but his presence blocks me. I can’t touch wild magic while he’s around.”

Abruptly Anele spoke from the cradle of Coldspray’s armour. Stroking the rock, he murmured. “This stone is unaware that Kevin’s Watch has fallen. The knowledge is too recent-and too far removed. The stone believes. It will hold, ignorant of ruin.”

With Liand and Pahni, Linden stared at the old man. She wanted him to say more-and to say it so that she could understand him. Seek deep rock. Only there the memory remains. But he ignored her yearning. Nestled in the cataphract, he lapsed into incoherence again.

Oh, hell. With a sigh, Linden turned back to face Coldspray.

The Ironhand was grinning, but her eyes were empty of humour as she said, “Take no umbrage, Linden Giantfriend, when I observe that you do not nurture confidence. Considering your many uncertainties, do you yet insist that you must gain Andelain and the krill ?”

Linden glared up at the Swordmain. “Lord Foul has my son. I’m certain of that. ” She had been fused to her purpose: her heart held no room for doubt. “If you don’t want to risk it, I’ll go by myself.”

For the second time, Coldspray and her comrades laughed joyfully. Linden might have thought that they were mocking her; but they were Giants, and their laughter held rich affection rather than scorn.

“Ah, risk,” the Ironhand said as she subsided. “Linden Avery, life is risk. All who inhabit the Earth inhale peril with each breath. Though some hazards inspire more alarm than others, the truth remains, as sure as stone and sea. We are Giants and adore life. We do not baulk at mere risk.”

Comforted, Linden sighed again. “I know. I just forget sometimes. Covenant might say something about laughing yourselves to death. Me, I’m just glad that you’re here.”

At that moment, Longwrath’s desire for her blood seemed a small price to pay for the warmth and aid of Giants.

Later Liand and the Cords opened the bedrolls so that Linden’s company could try to find a little sleep before dawn. As she stretched out in her blankets, however, the Stonedownor squatted beside her. “I wish rest for you, Linden,” he said softly. “but I also fear it. The Giants are mighty, and they fill me with gladness. But if we are assailed by more than two or three skurj together-

“Why do they not attack now? If Kastenessen directs them, does he not grasp that delay is perilous to him? Surely he must harry us while we remain far from the krill .”

In the background of his voice, Linden heard that his concern was more for Pahni than for himself. Like Linden’s, his passage through Salva Gildenbourne had been comparatively easy, while Pahni’s efforts had tested her Ramen toughness.

“I don’t know, Liand.” Linden lay holding the Staff, although it did not reassure her. “He’s waiting for something, but I have no idea what.” Roger and Cavewights? Moksha Raver and kresh ? Sandgorgons? “Maybe he just needs time to gather more skurj .” Or maybe Lord Foul had other plans for Kastenessen. She had been given hints which revealed nothing. “I can’t worry about it right now. I’ll just paralyse myself.”

Face it , Covenant had once told her. Go forward. Give yourself a chance to find out who you are. But he had also said to Liand through Anele, I wish I could spare you. Yet Liand was more afraid for Pahni, Linden, and the others than for himself.

His courage was less conflicted than Linden’s.

For a while, he considered her and the campfire and the sharp night. Then he said through his teeth, “Indeed.” A moment later, he surprised her by adding, “When our need is upon us, I pray that you will entrust the Staff of Law to me, as you did when we fled through time to counter the Demondim.”

Before she could respond, he left her and went to lie down on his own blankets beside Pahni.

She could not read his thoughts, but she recognised the character of his emotions. He had reached a decision, one which resembled his determination to offer health-sense to the Woodhelvennin.

He had conceived of another extravagant use for his orcrest .

That prospect troubled her until weariness overcame her, and she drifted into an anxious sleep, fretful and unresolved.

Dawn came too early: Linden was not ready for it. But she forced herself to arise when Stave spoke her name. Jeremiah needed her. All of her companions needed her. Befogged by too little rest and too many dreams, she stumbled toward the campfire to warm the chill from her bones.

The Giants must have kept the flames burning all night.

She had made no attempt to wield wild magic since she had created the caesure which had carried her to Revelstone after she had recovered her Staff. Now she was not sure that she knew how to find the pathway to power hidden within her.

The Swordmainnir were all awake and moving, as were the rest of Linden’s friends. Under Mahrtiir’s blind supervision, Bhapa, Pahni, and Liand prepared all of their remaining viands so that the Giants could each have one or two mouthfuls to supplement their breakfast of aliantha . While Linden rubbed her hands over the fire in the dim, grey morning, Stave informed her that the Humbled had discerned no danger during the night. Kastenessen was still waiting-She nodded inattentively: her thoughts were elsewhere. She could feel her health-sense leeching from her, sucked away by Kevin’s Dirt.

As always, she felt an almost metaphysical pang of bereavement. Without percipience, she could not gauge the condition of her companions. And she could not see into herself. She had never tried to wield wild magic under the bale of Kevin’s Dirt. She might be entirely unable to access Covenant’s ring. She would certainly not be able to control its force.

But if she restored herself with Earthpower, she would attract the skurj .

When she had eaten a few treasure-berries, and their tonic vitality had begun to lift the brume of fatigue and dreams from her mind, Linden looked around for Rime Coldspray.

The Ironhand was with Longwrath. While Onyx Stonemage and another Giant held him, shackled but ungagged, Coldspray interrupted his harsh demands by pushing aliantha into his mouth. He chewed the berries reflexively, swallowing the seeds as well as the fruit. They seemed to feed his rage.

Beckoning for Stave to join her, Linden approached Coldspray through grass heavy with dew. As soon as the Ironhand greeted her, she said. “Coldspray, we need to talk.”