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.”
Without hesitation, Coldspray asked another Giant to take over her task. Then she faced Linden and Stave, towering over them like a buttress against uncertainties and fears.
“I didn’t ask you last night,” Linden began. “Have any of your senses changed since you came to the Upper Land? Do they seem diminished?’
Coldspray shook her head. “They do not. I behold your concern, Linden Giantfriend. I see that it swells within you, though I cannot hear its name. And we retain our acuteness to the evil of the skurj.”
“Good. You’re like the Haruchai. Kevin’s Dirt doesn’t affect you. But the rest of us-” Linden dropped her gaze, irrationally ashamed of her weakness. “We’re being numbed. All of our senses are fading. And it’s getting worse. Soon we’ll be”- she fumbled for an adequate description- “stuck on the surface of everything. We won’t be able to see anything that isn’t right in front of us.”
“We will preserve you,” Coldspray replied gruffly. “Stave and the Humbled will do the same.”
Linden shook her head. “I know you will. That’s not the point. The point is that I can’t use power,” any power. “without my health-sense. Liand can’t use his orcrest. The Ramen will lose some of their effectiveness as scouts.”
Coldspray started to object, then stopped herself and waited for Linden to go on.
With an effort, Linden raised her head again. We can solve the problem. Temporarily, anyway. But we can’t do it without Earthpower-and that draws the skurj.” Bracing herself on granite, she concluded. “Before we put you in any more danger, you should have a chance to think about it. If you have a better idea-”
Her voice sank away like water in sand. She could not imagine any response to the threat of Kastenessen and his creatures except wild magic.
Stave consulted the rising dawn. “The Humbled distrust any exertion of Earthpower. However, they can offer no alternative. They are certain that stealth alone will not ward us from our foes. And they remain in doubt concerning your purpose. They have not yet opposed you. They will continue to refrain.”
“And you, Stave of the Haruchai?” asked Coldspray with a glint of morning or humour in her eyes. “What is your counsel?”
The former Master gave a slight shrug. “I have said that I no longer oppose the Chosen’s deeds and desires. Also there is this to consider. Some use of orcrest or the Staff of Law may provoke a premature reply. Should Kastenessen strike before his forces have been fully prepared, he will grant us an advantage which we could not obtain otherwise.”
The Ironhand chuckled. “My friend,” she said, slapping Stave lightly on the shoulder. “your cunning grows ever more evident. If it should chance that you weary of being Haruchai, know that you will be made welcome among the Swordmainnir. Lacking the good fortune-and also the stature-of our blood and bone, you will become a Giant by acclamation rather than by birth.
“Linden Avery,” she continued more seriously, “my thoughts follow Stave’s. We cannot hope to conceal our presence from the discernment of an Elohim. Therefore we lose naught, and may gain much, if Kastenessen answers the cleansing of your senses.”
Linden ducked her head again. When she raised her eyes, she tried to smile. “Thank you,” she said unsteadily. “I must have spent too much time alone. I keep forgetting what it’s like to have friends. Stave and Liand and the Ramen are doing their best to teach me, but I’m out of the habit.”
Coldspray and the Giants around Longwrath replied by laughing as though they were delighted. “Linden Giantfriend,” the Ironhand explained, “that tale is too sad for tears. “Out of the habit”. She laughed again. “And its dolour is made more cruel by brevity. We are Giants. If we do not laugh, we will be compelled to insist upon the full tale of your years and loneliness. The very blood in our veins will require it.”
“Slay her,” remarked Longwrath. “Slay. Her.” For the moment, at least, he sounded strangely casual. He may have been affected by aliantha. Or perhaps the mirth of his people eased his turmoil.
“Oh, well,” Linden sighed, feigning sorrow or disappointment while her heart lifted. “I haven’t forgotten everything. I do remember Giants.” Then she called over her shoulder. “Liand! Are you ready?”
At once, the Stonedownor bounded to his feet. “I am.” His piece of Sunstone was already in his hand, and his face was bright with eagerness.
Quiescent, his orcrest seemed both translucent and empty, as if it formed a gap in the substance of his palm.
An oblique memory caught Linden. Millennia ago among the Dead in Andelain, High Lord Mhoram had urged Covenant to remember the paradox of white gold. Covenant had described that occasion to Linden days later, after he had rescued her from the Clave. There is hope in contradiction.
In Garroting Deep, the Mahdoubt had said the same thing. Upon occasion, ruin and redemption defy distinction.
Then Liand tightened his grip; and the Sunstone began to shine. Its light was whiter, purer, than the argent cast of wild magic. And it did not burn or flame: it simply emitted an immaculate radiance. Soon it filled the glade.
While the Giants watched in wonder, Liand bathed Pahni in whiteness until she, too, shone as if she had been transfigured.
Linden knew that the young Cord was afraid for Liand: Pahni dreaded the implications of his power or his fate. Nevertheless she made no attempt to conceal her gladness as her health-sense was renewed.
Linden ached to share in that restoration. Her nerves hungered for it.
Fortunately experience had made Liand adept. Although his people had been denied their true birthright for millennia, his entire being responded to the Sunstone. He needed only a few moments to cleanse Mahrtiir’s perceptions, and Bhapa’s. Then he turned his light on Linden as if it were chrism.
Earthpower could not heal her emotional hurts. It could not relieve her anguished yearning for Jeremiah-or for Thomas Covenant. Still it made her feel whole again; capable in spite of her many limitations. When Liand was done, she was once again the Linden Avery who had beaten back Roger and the croyel; the Linden who could tear open time-
Trust yourself. Do something they don’t expect.
I can’t help you unless you find me.
The Giants observed in mute joy, as if they were witnessing an exaltation. Then as one they began to cheer.
There is hope in contradiction.
At the same time, Longwrath’s rage returned. “Slay her!” he demanded. “Slay her!”