White Gold Wielder (37 page)

For an instant like a seizure, no one moved or spoke. The things they could not see seemed to paralyze even the First and the
Haruchai
. Then Linden panted, “Sunder.” Her voice shook wildly; she sounded like a madwoman. “Use the
krill
. Use it now.”

Covenant tried to swing toward her. What is it? What do you see? But his imprecise ears missed her position in the dark. He was peering straight at Sunder when the
krill
sent a peal of vivid white ringing across the cavern.

He had no defense as Hollian’s shrill cry echoed after the light:

“The na-Mhoram’s
Grim
!”

Argent dazzled him. The
Grim
! He could not think or see. Such a sending had attacked the company once before; and under an open sky it had killed Memla na-Mhoram-in, had neariy slain Linden and Cail. In the enclosed space of the forehall—

And it would damage Revelstone severely. He had seen the remains of a village which had fallen under the
Grim
: During Stonedown, Hamako’s birthplace. The acid force of the na-Mhoram’s curse had eaten the entire habitation to rubble.

Covenant wheeled to face the peril; but still he could not see. His companions scrambled around him. For one mad instant, he believed they were fleeing. But then Cail took hold of his arm, ignoring the pain of suppressed fire; and he heard the First’s stern voice. “Mistweave, we must have more light. Chosen, instruct us. How may this force be combatted?”

From somewhere beyond his blindness, Covenant heard Linden reply, “Not with your sword.” The ague in her voice blurred the words; she had to fight to make them comprehensible. “We’ve got to quench it. Or give it something else to burn.”

Covenant’s vision cleared in time to see the black hot thunderhead of the
Grim
rolling toward the company just below the cavern’s ceiling.

Confined by the forehall, it appeared monstrously powerful.

Nom was nowhere to be seen; but Covenant’s knees felt vibrations through the floor as if the Sandgorgon were attacking the Keep’s inner chambers. Or as if Revelstone itself feared what Gibbon had unleashed.

From the entryway came the noise of belabored wood as Mistweave sought to break down the barrier which sealed the hall. But it had been fashioned with all the stoutness the Clave could devise. It creaked and cracked at Mistweave’s blows, but did not break.

When the boiling thunderhead was directly over the company, it shattered with a tremendous and silent concussion that would have flattened Covenant if Cail had not upheld him.

In that instant, the
Grim
became stark black flakes that floated murderously downward, bitter as chips of stone and corrosive as vitriol. The thick
Grim
-fall spanned the company.

Covenant wanted to raise fire to defend his friends. He believed he had no choice; venom and fear urged him to believe he had no choice. But he knew with a terrible certainty that if he unleashed the wild magic now he might never be able to call it back. All his other desperate needs would be lost. Loathing himself, he watched and did nothing as the dire flakes settled toward him and the people he loved.

Fole and another
Haruchai
impelled Linden to the nearest wall, as far as possible from the center of the
Grim
-fall. Harn tugged at Hollian, but she refused to leave Sunder. Cail was ready to dodge—ready to carry Covenant if necessary. The First and Honninscrave braced themselves to pit their Giantish immunity to fire against the flakes. Findail had disappeared as if he could sense Covenant’s restraint and cared about nothing else.

Glaring in the
krill
-light, the flakes wafted slowly downward.

And Sunder stood to meet them.

From his
orcrest
he drew a red shaft of Sunbane-fire and started burning the black bits out of the air.

His beam consumed every flake it touched. With astonishing courage or abandon, he faced the entire
Grim
himself. But the bits were falling by the thousands. They were too much for him. He could not even clear the air above his own head to protect himself and Hollian.

Then Pitchwife joined him. Incongruously crippled and valiant, the Giant also attacked the
Grim
, using as his only weapon the pouches of
vitrim
he had borne with him from Hamako’s
rhyshyshim
. One after another, he emptied them by spraying
vitrim
at the flakes.

Each flake the liquid touched became ash and drifted harmlessly away.

His visage wore a grimace of grief at the loss of his carefully-hoarded Waynhim roborant; but while it lasted he used it with deliberate extravagance.

Honninscrave slapped at the first flake which neared his head, then gave an involuntary cry as the black corrosive ate into his palm. The
Grim
had been conceived to destroy stone, and no mortal flesh was proof against it.

Around Covenant, the cavern started to reel. The irreconcilable desperation of his plight was driving him mad.

But at that instant a huge splintering crashed through the air; and the wooden barricade went down under Mistweave’s attack. More light washed into the forehall, improving the ability of the
Haruchai
to dodge the
Grim
. And wood followed the light. Fiercely Mistweave tore the barrier beam from timber and flung the pieces toward the company.

Haruchai
intercepted the smaller fragments, used them as cudgels to batter
Grim
-flakes from the air. But the First, Honninscrave, and then Pitchwife snatched up the main timbers. At once, wood whirled around the company. The First swung a beam as tall as herself as if it were a flail. Honninscrave swept flakes away from Sunder and Hollian. Pitchwife pounced to Linden’s defense with an enormous club in each fist.

The
Grim
destroyed the wood almost instantly. Each flake tore the weapon which touched it to charcoal. But the broken barricade had been huge; and Mistweave attacked it with the fury of a demon, sending a constant rush of fragments skidding across the floor to the hands of the company.

Honninscrave took another flake on His shoulder and nearly screamed; yet he went on fighting as if he were back in the cave of the One Tree and still had a chance to save his brother.

Three of the
Haruchai
threw Linden from place to place like a child. In that way they were able to keep her out of the path of the
Grim
-fall more effectively than if one of them had tried to carry her. But their own movements were hampered. Two of them had already suffered burns; and as Covenant watched, a black bit seemed to shatter Fole’s left leg. He balanced himself on his right as if pain had no meaning and caught Linden when she was tossed to him.

Around the cavern, flakes began to strike the floor and detonate, ripping holes the size of Giant-hands in the smooth stone. Acrid smoke intensified the air as if the granite were smoldering.

Durris, Harn, and two more
Haruchai
whipped brands and staves around the Stonedownors. Sunder lashed a frenzy of red power at the
Grim
. The First and Honninscrave labored like berserkers, spending wood as rapidly as Mistweave fed it to them. Pitchwife followed his wife’s example, protected her back with boards and timbers. He still had one pouch of
vitrim
left.

And Cail bounded and ducked through the drifting peril with Covenant slung over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

Covenant could not catch his breath to shout. Cail’s shoulder forced the air from his lungs. But he had to make himself heard somehow. “Sunder,” he gasped. “Sunder.”

By intuition or inspiration, the
Haruchai
understood him.

With a strength and agility that defied the thickening
Grim
-fall, he bore Covenant toward the Graveler.

An instant later, Covenant was whirled to his feet beside Sunder. Vertigo squalled around him; he had no balance. His hands were too numb to feel the fire mounting in him at every moment. If he could have seen Sunder’s face, he would have cried out, for it was stretched and frantic with exhaustion. But the light of the
krill
blazed at Covenant’s eyes. In the chaos of the cavern, that untrammeled brightness was the only point on which he could anchor himself.

The company had already survived miraculously long. But the
Grim
seemed to have no end, and soon even Giants and
Haruchai
would have to fall. This sending was far worse than the other one Covenant had experienced because it was enclosed—and because it was being fed directly by the Banefire. Through the stamp of feet and the burst of fires, he heard Linden cursing the pain of the people who kept her alive—people she could not help even though she suffered their hurts like acid on her own flesh. He had nowhere else to turn except to the
krill
.

Plunging toward Sunder, he got both hands on Loric’s blade. He did not feel the edges cut into his fingers, did not see the blood. He feared that his weight would topple Sunder; but somehow Sunder braced himself against the collision, managed to hold Covenant upright for a moment.

That moment was long enough. Before he fell tangled in the Graveler’s arms, Covenant sent one heart-rending blast of wild magic and risk through the gem of the
krill
.

His power was as black as the
Grim
now. But his desire was pure; and it struck the
krill
with such suddenness that the gem was not tainted by it. And from that gem, light rang like a piece of the clean sun. Its brightness seemed to tear asunder the veil of Revelstone’s gloom, lay bare the essential skeleton of the granite. Light shone through both flesh and stone, swept all shadow and obscurity away, made clear the farthest corners of the forehall, the heights of the vaulted ceiling. If his eyes had been equal to the argence, in that instant he would have seen the deep heart of the great Keep and Gibbon already fleeing to the place where he had chosen to hide himself. But Covenant was blind to such things. His forehead was butted against Sunder’s shoulder and he was falling.

When he roiled himself off Sunder’s panting chest, groped through dizziness to regain his feet, the moment of his power had passed. The cavern was lit only by the sun’s reflection from the entrance and the
krill
’s normal shining. His companions stood at various distances from him; but while his head spun he seemed to have no idea who they were.

But the
Grim
was gone. The black flakes had been swept away. And still he retained his grip on the wild magic.

He could not make the stone under him stop whirling. Helplessly he clung to the first
Haruchai
who came to him. The numbness of his hands and feet had spread to his other senses. His mind had gone deaf. He heard nothing but the rumble of distant thunder, as if the sun outside Revelstone had become a sun of rain.

His thoughts spun. Where was Nom? There were villagers in the hold—and
Haruchai
. Unless the Clave had killed them already? Gibbon had to be somewhere. What would he do next? The venom made Covenant vicious, and the sheer effort of containing so much ignited violence took his sanity away. He thought he was speaking aloud, but his teeth were clenched and immobile. Why doesn’t somebody tell that damn thunder to shut up so I can hear myself?

But the thunder did not stop; and the people around him fought their weariness and injuries to ready themselves. Dimly he heard the First’s battlecry as she swept out her sword.

Then the darkness at the end of the forehall came toward him, and he saw that the Riders had unleashed their Coursers at the company.

Need cleared his head a little. The
Haruchai
holding him pushed him away, and other hands took him. He found himself near Linden at the rear of the company, with only Mistweave between them and the entrance. All the
Haruchai
around them were injured. Those who were not had gone with the First and Honninscrave to meet the charge of the Coursers. Sunder and Hollian stood alone in the center of the hall. She supported him while he strove urgently to interfere with the Clave’s command over the beasts. But exhaustion weakened him, and the Banefire was too near. He could not blunt the assault.

At least a score of the fierce Coursers rushed forward, borne by the stone thunder of their hooves.

The
Haruchai
protecting Covenant and Linden were severely wounded. Fole stood with his left foot resting in a pool of his own blood. Harn had a deep burn on one hip. The other four
Haruchai
there were nearly maimed by various hurts. The air still reeked of
Grim
-flakes and pain.

The beasts struck with a scream of animal fury; and Covenant wanted to shriek with them because it was too much and he was no closer to his goal and the fingers of his will were slipping moment by moment from their hold on the world’s ruin.

One heartbeat later, the scream arose again behind him like an echo. Riding his vertigo, he turned in time to see Mistweave go down under the hooves of four more Coursers.

The Giant had remained at the entrance to guard the company’s rear. But he had been watching the battle, the plight of his companions. The return of the beasts which Sunder had scattered earlier took him by surprise. They reared behind him, pounded him to the stone. Then they thudded past him inward, their feral red eyes flaming like sparks of the Banefire.

Covenant could not resist as Harn and two more
Haruchai
thrust him toward one wall, interposed themselves between him and the Coursers. Fole and the rest bore Linden to the opposite wall so that the attack would be divided. Wounded and extravagant
Haruchai
faced the huge savagery of the Sunbane-shaped mounts.

You bastard! Covenant cried at Gibbon as if he were weeping. You bloody bastard! Because he had nothing else left, he braced himself on venom and readied his fire so that no more
Haruchai
would have to die for him.

But once again he had underestimated them. Two of the Coursers veered toward Linden; two came for him— And Harn hobbled out to meet them. He was between Covenant and the beasts. Covenant could not strike at them. He had to watch as Harn pitched headlong to the stone directly under the hooves of the leading Courser.