Abruptly Covenant stopped; turned so that Linden was forced to face him. Again she saw a glimpse of embers in the depths of his eyes, ruddy and threatening. The strict lines of his visage seemed to challenge her. While Stave watched him warily, and her friends crowded close to hear him, the Unbeliever told her harshly. “That’s what I’ve been doing all night.” He seemed to suggest that she had been wasting her time on trivialities. “Distracting Kastenessen. Confusing him with tricks, like I did to the Demondim.”
All right.” Linden struggled to absorb Covenant’s description. “Now it makes even less sense. If you’re right about Kastenessen”- if his condition resembled Joan’s- “how can the Elohim possibly want what he wants?”
“Damnation.” Covenant wiped at the rain on his face; rubbed the hint of fire out of his eyes. “They have different reasons. Kastenessen is just screaming. He hurts, and he wants to fill the world with it. The Elohim don’t trust me. They never have. As far as they’re concerned, the fact that I’m part of the Arch-that I can do the things I do-is a disaster.
Time is too important to them. Their immortality depends on it. They don’t want anybody who even remembers what death means to have the kind of power I do. So they don’t want me to stop Foul. They’re afraid I might change the shape of the Arch. The shape of their Wurd They’re afraid of what that might cost them.
Of course, they’re wrong. I’m not here to change Time. I protect it. That’s my job. But they don’t believe me.”
“He’s right, Mom,” Jeremiah said again. But he sounded far away, hidden behind Covenant.
A sharp gust snatched back the hood of Linden’s cloak, flung rain into her face. Among the trees, the wind droned with trepidation.
Turning as if in disgust, Covenant strode away. “Come on,” he demanded before Linden could try to understand him. “I can’t keep this up indefinitely. And I can’t do it without you.”
Linden nearly stumbled in surprise. Until that moment, he had not acknowledged that she was important to him; that he sought anything from her except his ring.
She hastened to catch up with him again. But when she did so, she found that he had silenced her. I can’t do it-Realities seemed to shift around her, veering from one uncertainty to another. Over the plateau, the rain declined to a thin drizzle that would have felt as soothing as mist if it had not been driven by the wind. Through the gloom, the advance of daylight gave definition to the landscape, clarifying the contours of the hills, distancing the darkness among the trees. Yet she hardly noticed such things. I can’t-
But first I’ll have to convince Linden- When she had resisted his desire for his ring, however, he had insisted on nothing except a little bit of trust. From that, Liand had inferred that Covenant still had a use for her.
But Covenant himself had said nothing of the kind.
Until now.
As he or the Masters led her past a cluster of gnarled and vaulted jacarandas, Linden caught sight of a river in the distance ahead. There Glimmermere’s outflow gathered rain and small streams in its accelerating rush toward Furl Falls. The wind stung her eyes, forced her to shade them with her free hand. But when she had blinked the blur from her vision, she saw the river clearly. Along the watercourse, the hills seemed to bow down in homage to Glimmermere’s waters. Apart from a few knaggy firs clinging to the rim of the cliff, there were no trees. From the vicinity of the falls, nothing would obstruct her view for a long stone’s throw in any direction.
The terrain offered that advantage.
Findail’s kind, and Kastenessen’s, could appear anywhere, flowing up from the ground without warning, or materialising along the rough wind. And Esmer had inherited some of their abilities. But other foes would be plainly visible. Even the Demondim-and they could not reach the plateau without first defeating Revelstone.
In spite of Covenant’s warnings, however, Linden was only vaguely troubled by the possibility of an attack.
She still felt sustained by vitrim. At need, she might find a way to defend herself and her companions without endangering Covenant and Jeremiah. Under the circumstances, she was more afraid of Covenant’s manner-and of Jeremiah’s strange powers.
I can’t do it-
Neither the Unbeliever nor her son loved her. Covenant had been profoundly altered by his millennia in the Arch of Time. And Jeremiah’s heart was fixed on the man who had made it possible for him to be here.
He was the best.- the only real friend-
And he needed her-Did he have a design for the salvation of the Land? A plan that included her? Good. But if he did not, she still intended to learn the truth about him. And about her tormented son.
Gripping her courage, she descended the last slopes toward the vicinity of Furl Falls.
Covenant brought her within a dozen strides of the riverbank, then stopped. “This’ll do,” he said stiffly to Jeremiah. “Don’t you think’?”
Jeremiah tossed his racecar into the air as if he were testing the force of the wind. Then he tucked the bright red toy into the waistband of his pyjamas. “It feels right. If we can’t do it here, we probably can’t do it at all.”
Covenant nodded. The wind rumpled his hair and tugged at his clothes, making him look as wild and driven as a prophet.
Without apparent hurry, the Masters positioned themselves in an arc that enclosed Covenant, Jeremiah, and Linden’s small company between the riverbank and the edge of the cliff. At the same time, Galt joined Branl, Clyme, and Handir in front of Covenant. He was the ur-Lord, the reincarnation of Berek Halfhand. The Voice of the Masters and the Humbled stood with him. And Linden did not doubt that they remained suspicious of her. They distrusted Earthpower and loss-
Gusts flicked her tresses across her eyes. Pulling back her wet hair, she risked taking a step closer to Covenant. If he wanted a “smoke screen” to disguise his actions, he had chosen his destination well. Glimmermere’s outflow still held a measure of its eldritch vitality: its supernal energies sang to her senses. But it was much diluted; too weak to banish him and her son.
“All right,” she said against the wind. “We’re here. What are you going to do’?”
“Enjoy the view,” he replied acidly. Her question appeared to offend him. Or perhaps he felt threatened by her nearness. But then he relented. “I’m sorry. You’re right. We should get started. I’m just about at the end of what I can do.
“But don’t ask me to explain it.” His gaze held hers for an instant, then shied away. During that moment, however, she saw no fire in his eyes. Instead she seemed to detect a transitory glint of anticipation or fear. “I haven’t got the time or the energy. And I’m tired of the way you look at me. Like I’m about to rape somebody. Do what I tell you, and I’ll show you how I’m going to save all of us.”
A little bit of trust. Slowly Linden nodded her acquiescence. What else could she do? She needed answers; needed to understand-If she refused Covenant now, she might lose her only chance to redeem her son.
At once, he commanded, “Then make your friends stand back. They’re in the way. This doesn’t include them.”
Before she could reply, Mahrtiir stepped forward. Ominously relaxed, Stave balanced his weight on the balls of his feet. Liand curled his hands into fists at his sides.