Stephen Donaldson - Fatal Revenant

Her son was in more danger than anyone; more peril and more pain. Although he stood at Covenant’s side, his tangible body remained at Lord Foul’s mercy. Because he was her son, the strange bifurcation of his torment seemed too great to be borne.

Covenant sighed. In a gentler voice, he replied, “Unfortunately, no. Oh, his suffering will end. As soon as I freeze Foul, everything he’s doing will stop. But drinking the EarthBlood, using the Power of Command-Unleashing forces on that scale will pretty much overwhelm us. Jeremiah and I will disappear. Well snap back to where we belong.” If he felt any grief at the prospect of losing his physical existence-or losing Linden-he did not show it. “He won’t hurt anymore, but he’ll still be trapped wherever Foul has him. And he won’t know any more about where that is than he does now. He’ll still need rescuing.”

Before Linden could pull her thoughts out of the cold to protest, he added, “That’s one of the reasons you’re here. In fact, I never even considered doing this without you. After Jeremiah and I vanish, it’ll be your turn. Once we’re gone, you can drink the EarthBlood yourself. You can Command-” His tone remained gentle. “Hellfire, Linden, you can Command any damn thing you want. All you have to do is want it, and you and your kid will be reunited. In your proper time. Anywhere you choose. If it’ll make you happy, you two can live in Andelain together for the rest of your natural lives.”

Trembling with relief and cold-with a hope so sudden that it seemed to shake the marrow of her bones-she asked. “Is that true? Is that what you meant? When you said that you can’t do this without me?”

At once, Covenant’s manner became aggrieved. “What, did you think I didn’t care ? Did you think I’m not trying to do what’s best for you and Jeremiah as well as for the Land and the rest of the Earth? I’m Thomas Covenant , for God’s sake. I’ve saved the Land twice . And I sure as hell didn’t get myself killed because I like being dead.

“Yes,” he admitted sharply, “you’re why the Elohim won’t interfere. I brought you for that. You’re the Wildwielder. As long as you’re here, they think they don’t have anything to worry about. But I also want to save your kid.”

Abruptly the Theomach began to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” demanded Covenant.

The stranger’s laughter stopped. “I find amusement in your justifications.” He did not sound at all amused.

Again Linden seemed to feel an afterflash of power as she had when Covenant had warmed her earlier. The Theomach vanished from the hilltop.

With a shudder, she dragged her attention away from the beauty which the snow and wind and sun had wrought. “Then why didn’t you transport us straight to Melenkurion Skyweir? Why did we have to come here? Into the past?”

And why so far into the past?

But Covenant had turned his back on her. Instead of facing her question, he was staring back down into the valley.

Jeremiah came a step or two closer. Then he met her gaze on Covenant’s behalf. “Because, Mom, the Blood of the Earth isn’t accessible in the time where we belong.” Now her son’s eyes reminded her of Esmer’s: they seemed to blur and run, melting from the silted hue of dark loam to the pale dun of fine sand. “There have never been more than one or two ways to approach it, and Elena’s battle with Kevin wrecked those passages.”

Jeremiah’s tic signalled his discomfort. “But even before that battle, it wasn’t accessible. The first thing Damelon did after he discovered the EarthBlood was put up wards. He thought the Power of Command was too dangerous for anyone to use. He left all kinds of barricades behind. We would have to fight our way in, and you’re the only one of us who can do that. Which would banish Covenant and me before we could accomplish anything. We have to get inside the mountain before Damelon seals it.”

“But”- troubled by Jeremiah’s disquiet, Linden struggled to think- “if Covenant shuts down Lord Foul now,” thousands of years before his first confrontation with the Despiser. “won’t he destroy the Arch of Time?”

Surely such an exertion of Command would unmake all of Lord Foul’s actions for the next ten thousand years?

“He could,” Jeremiah conceded without hesitation. “But he won’t. What would be the point? He’s trying to save the Land, not destroy it. He’ll seal Foul right after we leave to come here. Ten thousand years from now, in the time where you and I belong. That way, the Arch won’t be in any danger.”

Tremors ran through Linden’s chest and arms; through her voice. “Then why are we still standing here?” If she did not draw on the Staff for warmth, she would not be able to remain coherent much longer. “Why don’t the two of you transport us right now? Get us to Melenkurion Skyweir before I freeze?”

The scraps of Jeremiah’s pyjamas gave him scant protection; much less than Linden’s cloak and clothes. Nevertheless he seemed unaware of the chill. His encrypted uneasiness had nothing to do with ice and snow.

He looked to Covenant as if he were loath to answer her without Covenant’s support or approval; and as Jeremiah turned his head, the Theomach came lightly up the hillside. His wrapped feet made no mark on the surface of the crust. Once again, he conveyed the eerie impression that he occupied more than one time and place; that with every step he blurred the definitions of reality.

He ascended as if he meant to accost Covenant. But when he was still nearly a dozen paces away, he halted. Behind his bindings, his eyes seemed to study Covenant for some promise of violence.

“That was just a warning,” Covenant pronounced harshly. “Next time, I’ll actually hurt you.”

The Theomach shrugged. His tone implied its own threat as he said. “Do not doubt that I remain able to frustrate your designs. I have counselled wisdom as well as caution, yet you give me cause to doubt that you will heed me.”

“Just so we understand each other,” Covenant retorted. “I’m on your damn path. I’ll stay on your damn path. But I’m tired of being taunted.”

The stranger nodded once, slowly. Then he seemed to slip sideways and was gone. Linden could not detect any evidence that he had ever been present.

Apparently unsurprised, Jeremiah moved closer to Covenant. When Covenant glanced at him, the boy said, “Mom wants to know why we don’t just transport ourselves to Melenkurion Skyweir. But I think there’s something more important.” He seemed unsure of his ability to form an independent opinion. “It’s too cold for her. She’s going to-”

“Oh, bloody hell,” muttered Covenant. “I keep forgetting.”

His halfhand drew a brusque arc in the air. Linden only registered the gesture as a trail of phosphenes like the sweep of a comet: she hardly saw the red flicker of heat in the depths of his eyes. Then a second tide of warmth flooded through her, washing the ice from her skin in an instant, dispelling shivers from the core of her body. Between one heartbeat and the next, she felt a flush of fire as if Covenant had ignited her blood.

Momentarily helpless with relief, she breathed, “God in Heaven. How do you do that?”

Covenant frowned critically at his hand; flexed his fingers as though they did not entirely belong to him. “It doesn’t matter. Being part of the Arch isn’t exactly fun. It ought to be good for at least a few tricks.”

A moment later, he looked at Linden, and his expression changed to a humourless grin. “But as it happens, there’s a perfectly good reason why we can’t ‘just transport ourselves.’ I mean, aside from the fact that the Theomach won’t let us. He may be right. It could be too dangerous.”