The Runes of the Earth: The Last Chronicles of Thomas Covenant - Book One (79 page)

“You must declare yourself, so that I”—he caught himself—“so that all those here may find their own paths.”

He did not need to ask, If you set aside the ring, who will take it up? That question was implicit in every line of his face.

He may have wished to possess Covenant's ring himself.

While Esmer spoke, Stave stepped aside as if to dissociate himself from his antagonist's demand. But when Esmer was finished, the Master said, “I also ask this. We must not remain in this time. The hazard is too great. And you must not wield both wild magic and Law, lest you be torn asunder.

“Therefore I ask it. What is your intent?”

Linden considered both men through a blur of fatigue. Stave remained suspicious of her, she was sure of that. Yet she trusted him. Esmer, on the other hand—

Deliberately she turned to Mahrtiir and Liand.

“This depends on you,” she told the Manethrall carefully, “at least to some extent. I already know what Liand will say. And Anele needs to stay near the Staff. But I haven't asked you.

“Do you want to go back to your people? It should be possible.” Once she had created a Fall, the Ranyhyn would be able to find their way. “But if we do that, I can't stay with you. I have too many—”

“Ringthane,” Mahrtiir put in before she could explain, “this is needless.” The light from the stone pots glinted in his eyes. “I will accompany you wherever your purpose leads. I seek a tale which will remain in the memories of the Ramen when my life has ended. Such renown I will never earn among them. They are”—his mouth twisted—“too cautious to be remembered.”

Then he shrugged. “In this I will not command the Cords. However, they feel a debt which they wish to repay.” He grinned at a thought which he kept to himself. “And you have found favor in their sight. They will not be parted from you.”

“All right.” Linden did not try to argue with him, although he and the Cords might well perish in her company. She needed as much rest as she could get. And some buried part of her had already made her decision. Raising her eyes to Esmer and Stave again, she repeated, “All right.

“I'm going to Andelain. I know I've got too much power. And I don't know where to look for my son.” Long ago, the spirits of Covenant's friends had guided and comforted him there. Perhaps she, too, would find her loved Dead. “I'm hoping that someone there can tell me what to do.”

Esmer made a sound like a hiss of vexation and turned away; but Stave continued to face her with his usual flat stoicism. Whatever her answer meant to him remained shrouded. When her silence made it clear that she had no more to say, however, his manner seemed to intensify.

“Very well,” he replied. “You wish to enter Andelain. Perhaps you will do so. Yet you have not named a more immediate intention. What will you do
now
?

“As I have said, we must not remain in this time. And the peril grows with every moment of delay. Esmer has threatened a betrayal which it would be unwise to confront. And the hazard that our actions may violate Time accumulates against us. It is folly to indulge in rest when the need for departure becomes ever more urgent.”

Linden groaned to herself. She had hoped to postpone arduous questions for a while; until the benignant warmth of the Staff could knit together her frayed resources. Yet Stave deserved an answer. All of her companions did, the Waynhim as much as the Ramen and Liand.

Searching for a way to convey what she felt, she turned to the Stonedownor as to a touchstone of honesty. “Liand?”

At once, he stopped tending Anele to look at her. “Yes?”

“What was it like for you? In the
caesure
? What happened to you while we were there?”

His eyes widened, then seemed to grow dark, benighted by memory. “Linden—” He ducked his head to hide his discomfort. Yet he concealed nothing. “To speak of it is difficult. The pain—I had not conceived it possible to experience such pain.

“And to endure it—” His voice sank until it was barely audible. “That I could not have done, had the ur-viles left me unprotected. But I felt their blackness about me through the pain, warding away the worst of the Fall.”

Then he raised his head again. “There is a disturbance in their lore which sickened me,” he told Linden's concerned gaze. “Yet it was a little thing in the greater evil of the Fall. I would not have survived to speak of it if the ur-viles had not preserved me.”

Linden thanked him quietly, and released him.

“That's bad enough,” she said to Stave. “The rest of us aren't
Haruchai.
And we don't have Anele's Earthpower. We're”—she shuddered—“vulnerable.

“But it's not the only problem. I don't know if you realize that I failed. In the
caesure.
I almost let us all—” Her own memories nearly choked her. “I couldn't use Covenant's ring. I was in too much pain.

“We're only here because the ur-viles saved us. The ur-viles and the Ranyhyn.” And because she had found a way to make use of Joan's madness—which she would not have been able to do if the creatures had not given her their strength. “Since I healed you, I've been cut off from wild magic.”

A moment of restless movement passed among the Waynhim; but Linden ignored it. “I'm aware of the danger. I need rest”—badly—“but that wouldn't stop me if I knew how to get us out of here. I wouldn't let the fact that I'm terrified of all that pain stop me. But somehow I'm going to have to relearn how to use Covenant's ring, and I'm not sure I can do that.”

The Staff of Law would restore her, if she gave it time. It would ward her against the Fall's torment. But it would not give her access to argence. That she had to rediscover within herself; and she did not know how she had lost the way.

Stave stood before her, impassive and unswayed. “The pain will be less severe,” he pronounced. “You will not be required to oppose the current of the Fall.” He paused to glance around the cave. When he faced Linden again, he said, “And you will not be blocked from wild magic. That hindrance is caused by Esmer's presence, as he has said, and he is gone.”

Startled, Linden looked quickly for Cail's son. But Stave was right. Esmer had simply faded away; evaporated like water.

She tried to ask, “Why—?” but she could not complete the question.

Moments ago, the Waynhim had seemed restive. They must have been reacting to Esmer's disappearance.

“Your intention to enter Andelain displeased him,” replied the Master. “Therefore he has departed.”

Displeased—?

While Linden stared at Esmer's absence, she scrambled to understand Stave's revelation.

Esmer had refused to enter the
caesure
with her.
In my presence, you will surely fail.
And he had said that the Waynhim were blinded to the proximity of white gold.
It is an effect of my nearness.

Damn it, she should have known—

But he could not have caused her failure in the Fall. That was the result of her own weakness, not of his interference.

“Chosen.” Stave's concentration gave his tone a cutting edge. “We must depart now, while Esmer is absent, and his betrayal has not yet come upon us.”

Abruptly Liand jumped to his feet. “You mislead us, Master,” he put in. “The decisions which Linden must make are not as plain as you wish them to appear.”

Before Stave could retort, Liand rushed on. “If I comprehend aright, our presence here endangers the Arch of Time. And we are in peril of Esmer's betrayal. But there is another peril which you do not name.” He seemed suddenly furious at everything that the Masters had done in the name of their unyielding convictions. “If we hasten to depart, the harm which Esmer has wrought will fall upon the Waynhim alone. Without our aid, it may be that they will be destroyed.

“You are a Master of the Land. Do you deem the Waynhim unworthy of our concern?”

The young man's anger—and his loyalty—raised an echo of determination in Linden. With an effort, she set aside her confusion and self-doubt. Tightening her grip on the Staff, she concentrated instead on the hope that Stave had given her; and on the passion of Liand's support.

Stave's mien hinted at scorn as he answered the young man. “Esmer's harm is directed against the Chosen. If she is no longer present in this time, the peril to the Waynhim will dissipate. He gains naught by their destruction.”

“Nothing,” Linden countered, defending Liand in her turn, “except a violation of the Land's history.”

Stave studied her as though she had surprised him.

“You said yourself,” she continued, “that there haven't been any significant battles or powers in the South Plains. If the danger doesn't dissipate, and the Waynhim defend themselves, that might change.

“But even if they let themselves be exterminated—”
They know their plight, yet they do not flinch from it.
“We don't know what Esmer might have unleashed. Whatever it is, it could be powerful enough to change history no matter what the Waynhim do.”

Liand's eyes shone as if Linden had vindicated him.

Stave gave a slight shake of his head. “If he were capable of such things, he would have done so ere now. The Arch of Time would already have fallen.”

Yet time remained intact: she knew that. Stave's words still reached her in sequence. One thing still led to another—

“No,” she said like a sigh. “It doesn't work that way for him. He's too conflicted. We're his friends, or his enemies. He hates you and approves of me. Or maybe it's the other way around. As far as I can tell, the only simple thing about him is his respect for the Ranyhyn.” Nothing else had compelled him to refrain from killing Stave. “He doesn't want them hurt.”

Mahrtiir nodded in confirmation.

Closing her eyes, Linden rubbed at the frown knotted between her brows. “Maybe he is powerful enough to bring down the Arch. I don't know. But he can't do it. He needs a balance of some kind. He can't do anything really destructive if he doesn't help us at the same time. He can't help us without betraying us.

“He had to at least warn us. He needs that. And if he didn't, we wouldn't have a chance to save the Ranyhyn.”

The Master regarded her closely. “You cannot be certain of this.”

“No,” she admitted. When had she ever been certain of anything except her loves? “But neither can you. And until we
are
sure, I'm not leaving. The Waynhim have already suffered enough. I won't leave them until I know they aren't going to be wiped out.”

Esmer had threatened even the ur-viles with destruction.

For a long moment, Stave appeared to consider her words. Then he lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. “Very well,” he said. “You will do as you wish, and I will serve you as well as I am able. In this time, it is useless to oppose you. But understand that nothing has been resolved between us.”

As he turned away, Linden bowed her head over the Staff. She was content with his response. He was
Haruchai,
inflexible by nature as well as conviction. Yet he had already conceded more than she could have expected from him.

S
he might have closed her eyes then and slept; let
vitrim
and the Staff work within her undisturbed. But Liand was too restless to leave her alone. And she had been postponing his questions for hours. Sighing to herself, she gave up on sleep in order to relieve some of his imposed ignorance.

While she told him tales of her time with Thomas Covenant, one rambling anecdote after another in no particular order, the Waynhim began to busy themselves around the cave. At first she wondered what they were doing; but then she saw that they were preparing a meal. Apparently they did not live on
vitrim
alone—or did not expect their guests to do so.

From a side tunnel, they produced a stone pot shaped like a cauldron. One of their flaming urns they placed near the center of the chamber; and when they had muttered over it for a few moments, intensifying its heat with chants and gestures, they balanced the larger pot on top of it. Then they began sorting ingredients which Linden could not identify into the cooking pot.