Nom went on hammering at the gates in a transport of destructive ecstasy as if it had finally met an obstacle worthy of it.
Honninscrave quivered to hurl himself forward; but the First restrained him He obeyed her like a man who would soon be beyond reach of any command.
Then Nom struck a final blow-struck so swiftly that Covenant did not see how the blow was delivered. He saw only the small still fraction of time as the gates passed from endurance to rupture. They stood-and the change came upon them like the last inward suck of air before the blast of a hurricane-and then they were gone, ripped apart in a wrench of detonation with fragments whining like agony in all directions and stone-powder billowing so thickly that Nom disappeared and the broken mouth of Revelstone was obscured.
Slowly, the high, wide portal became visible through the dust. It was large enough for Coursers, suitable for Giants, But the Sandgorgon did not reappear Covenant's stunned ears were unable to pick out the slap of Nom's feet as the beast charged alone into the stone city.
“Oh my God,” Linden muttered over and over again, “oh my God.” Pitchwife breathed, “Stone and Sea!” as if he had never seen a Sandgorgon at work before. Hollian's eyes were full of fear. But Sunder had been taught violence and killing by the Clave, had never learned to love Revelstone: his face was bright with eagerness.
Half deafened by the pain of the stone Covenant entered the Keep because now he had no choice left but to go forward or die. And he did not know what Nom would do to the city. At a wooden run, he crossed the courtyard and passed through the dust into Revelstone as if he were casting the die of his fate.
Instantly, his companions arranged themselves for battle and followed him. He was only one stride ahead of Call, two ahead of the First, Linden, and Honninscrave, as he broached the huge forehall of the na-Mhoram's Keep.
It was as dark as a pit.
He knew that hall; it was the size of a cavern. It had been formed by Giants to provide a mustering-space for the forces of the former Lords. But the sun angled only a short distance into the broken entrance; and some trick of the high stone seemed to absorb the light; and there was no other illumination.
Too late, he understood that the forehall had been prepared to meet him.
With a crash, heavy wooden barriers slammed shut across the entryway. Sudden midnight echoed around the company.
Instinctively, Covenant started to release a blaze from his ring. Then he yanked it back. His fire was entirely black now, as corrupt as poison. It shed no more light than the scream that swelled against his self-control, threatening to tear his throat and split Revelstone asunder.
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 defence 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 nearly slain Linden and Call. 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, Bamako'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 combated?”
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 belaboured 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 Call 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 centre of the Grim-fall. Harn tugged at Hollian, but she refused to leave Sunder. Call 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 kriIl-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.