Stephen Donaldson - Fatal Revenant

Fuck them all.

Without warning, a sulphurous 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 passage 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 colour 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 recognised 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. “Hellfire, Linden, it’s not that hard. I did it, and I didn’t have your damn Staff.”

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 colour 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.

“Hellfire and bloody damnation,

Linden!” raged Covenant. “What the fuck 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.”