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

is dead. And I don’t think he was planning to die. You’ve met him, but you haven’t seen him in action. Practically everything he does is almost inconceivable, but he does it anyway. That’s why the Land needs him. Why we need him.” Her own needs were more complex. “Maybe he really does have an inherent relationship with wild magic. Or maybe he’s just
more
than anyone else I’ve ever met. Either way, I don’t believe that Joan can kill him. There isn’t enough of her left, and that Raver can’t make her into something she isn’t.”
    After a moment, Linden forced herself to be honest. “But I do think something is dying. If it isn’t already dead.” Every word was bitter to her. It was gall on her tongue. She said it, and the next one, and the next, because she wanted to be worthy of her son. “That must be what you saw in me when he left. He doesn’t love me anymore. Or he’s afraid of me. I love him, but ever since the Ardent brought us out of the Lost Deep, I’ve been watching what Covenant and I had together die.”
    Jeremiah listened with an air of impatience; but he waited for her to finish. Then he said as if he were certain, “You’re wrong, Mom. I’ve heard him. He still loves you. Whatever he’s doing, it isn’t about not loving you. That’s what made me think he’s planning to die. He left the way he did because he isn’t sure he’ll ever see you again.”
    Her son meant well: Linden knew that. He might even be right. Nevertheless she doubted him. Her awareness of the many ways in which she had failed ran too deep. After all, what had she done to enable Jeremiah’s escape from his prison? Sure, she had resisted Infelice as much as she could. And she had extinguished Joan’s
caesures
. But in the end, her only real contribution had been trust: trust in the Ranyhyn—and in Esmer’s reasons for restoring Jeremiah’s racecar.
    She could not believe in Covenant’s love because she did not know how to make peace with herself.
    In self-defense, she reverted to her earlier questions. “We were talking about your models. You explained Revelstone and Mount Thunder. What about your Tinkertoy castle?” She had seen its original in the Lost Deep. “Were you trying to tell me something there, too? Was that another warning?”
    Had Covenant nudged Jeremiah to prepare her in some fashion? If so, the effort had been wasted. It was too cryptic. Knowing nothing of the Lost Deep, she could not have interpreted her son’s faery edifice.
    This time, Jeremiah shook his head. “I was just practicing. I only visited the Lost Deep once. I mean, on my own.” Without Roger and the
croyel
. “But while I was there, I saw what the Viles could do. I fell in love with that castle. Then later, when I started to get the idea I needed to warn you somehow, I didn’t want to make a mistake. So I tried to copy the castle.
    “I hadn’t done anything like that before. Everything else I built I just sort of found. Even the racetrack. I don’t know how to explain it. I didn’t start out with an idea. The shapes came from whatever I was using. They all just
came
. But if I wanted to warn you, I had to choose the shapes for myself.
    “The castle was my first try.” Linden saw satisfaction in his mien: satisfaction—and a new surge of eagerness. “It was easier than I thought. Until then, I didn’t know I can choose anything I want. Now I do. I just need the right pieces.”
    Now, Linden thought. While he was eager. While he felt sure of himself.
    It was probably too soon. In her former life, she would have waited longer; perhaps much longer. But her son had so little time. The Earth had so little.
    Her heart seemed to crowd her throat as she asked, “What was it like, having the
croyel
on your back? What did it do to you? What did Lord Foul do?”
    At once, Jeremiah’s manner changed as if he had slammed a door. He jerked his face away. “You know what it was like. I don’t want to talk about it. I want to forget it ever happened.”
    Then he nudged Khelen away from Hyn. To Stave, he called, “Can we go faster? I want to reach the Giants.”
    “Chosen?” Stave inquired. His tone implied no opinion.
    Cursing to herself, Linden muttered, “All right. They’re probably worried about us.”
    The Swordmainnir had been left behind because they were too weary after their long struggles to run with the Ranyhyn. And Mahrtiir had stayed with them so that Narunal could guide them across the wide