The Last Dark: The climax of the entire Thomas Covenant Chronicles (Last Chronicles of Thomas Cove)

traverse the leagues.
    With Kastenessen gone, Kevin’s Dirt may have begun to dissipate; but if so, that was a victory which Covenant could neither confirm nor measure. Instead he was torn inside, frantic and grieving. Clyme’s death remained as vivid as scars, as harsh as Joan’s. The Worm was coming: it had already reached the Land. And Linden was not here.
    She was not here.
    In the instant of his arrival, he had seen things that deserved celebration. Jeremiah had escaped from his mental prison, or had been freed: that was obvious. Otherwise he would not have been able to design the crude structure at the foot of the rubble and the ridge. The Giants would not have known how to build it. And the edifice had succeeded. Infelice’s presence at the portal, and Kastenessen’s raging opposition, demonstrated that Jeremiah’s efforts had achieved their strange purpose—whatever that might be.
    But the boy sprawled on the roof of the construct as if he had been felled. Stave lay motionless in the dirt near Infelice. None of the Giants wore their armor. They had no weapons. And there was no sign of Mahrtiir. Like Linden, the Manethrall had gone somewhere else—or had been left behind—or—
    Covenant was stretched too thin to appreciate what the Land’s defenders had accomplished.
    Without any flicker of hesitation or pause for thought, he had flung himself toward Kastenessen armed only with Loric’s eldritch dagger and his own extremity.
I killed my ex-wife
. Joan’s ring seemed trivial against a being of Earthpower merged with brimstone and lava.
I helped destroy a Raver
. Yet Kastenessen had believed him.
And I’ve seen the Worm of the World’s End
. Perhaps the
krill
was capable of killing greater foes than Joan and
turiya
Herem.
I am
done with restraint
!
Or perhaps Kastenessen had secretly wished to be swayed.
    Beyond the construct where Infelice and Emereau Vrai’s lover had vanished, the gouged ridge rose like a barricade against the southeast; against memories of Joan. Covenant had sacrificed his own daughter. More than once. He had raped her mother. Ignored Triock’s death. Permitted Clyme’s. And he was Roger’s father. He was responsible for that lost soul as well. In Morinmoss long ago, he may have killed the woman who had healed his mind. Hell, he had even ridden the Harrow’s destrier to its death. He had committed wrongs enough to mark him as an acolyte of the Despiser.
    Now Linden was not
here
. He could not confess himself to her, or seek absolution.
    Stave had said of her that she did not forgive. If that were true—
    The aftermath of Kastenessen’s surrender left Covenant reeling with needs and ignorance. To defeat Joan, he had sealed the fracturing of his mind, but he had not rid himself of vertigo. Even the comparatively level plain felt like a precipice in the doom-clogged twilight. Slaps of wind raised dust on all sides as if every step altered the ground itself. He hardly noticed when Branl took the
krill
to spare him at least that one burden.
    Unheeded or unneeded, Rallyn and Mishio Massima trotted away, presumably seeking water and forage.
    “Unbeliever,” Giants murmured or panted. “Timewarden.” Wan with exhaustion, Rime Coldspray called, “You are timely come.” And Frostheart Grueburn, “Have you accomplished your purpose?” And Cirrus Kindwind, “Some ill end has befallen Clyme
Haruchai
.” Other Swordmainnir repeated like groans, “Longwrath,” and, “Lostson.” They sighed the names of the
geas
-damned man’s parents, and ached for Moire Squareset and Scend Wavegift, both of whom were dead because of Longwrath.
    Too many questions. Too many contradictions to absorb. Covenant only knew that Jeremiah was still alive because the boy was looking at him; staring as if he were stunned, barely conscious. Stave lay like Longwrath. Like Longwrath’s, Stave’s flesh smoked as if Kastenessen had scoured his heart with scoria.
    It was all too much. As if he were being ripped open, Covenant released a cry that seemed to come from the marrow of his bones.
    “
What happened to Linden?
”
    Then he stood wavering as if he could not take another step without the woman whom he had loved for all of the Earth’s ages.
    Swordmainnir hung their heads, too weary or overwhelmed to answer. But after a moment, Rime Coldspray summoned a vestige of resolve. She leaned into motion, came unsteadily toward Covenant. Tears that might have been relief or chagrin or sorrow—that