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

strength—and then had given more. Covenant himself wanted more than the unsatisfying aliment of
ussusimiel
. Linden had probably gone longer without food. And Jeremiah was avid for treasure-berries.
    For the sake of everyone with him, Covenant schooled himself to eat and drink and wait. When Linden smiled ruefully, he tried to match her.
    Speaking for her comrades, the Ironhand gave thanks to the Forestal. They all bowed as if they declined to prostrate themselves only because they lacked the strength to rise again. Then they picked their fill of
aliantha
. The seeds they scattered around the plain and in the hollows like prayers for the Land’s future. More boisterously, Jeremiah followed their example. As for the
Haruchai
, Branl stood apart from the company as if all of his lacks had been satisfied by Longwrath’s flamberge; but Stave ate without hesitation and offered the former Manethrall his gratitude.
    Considering that they were Giants, inclined to relish the bounty of their own relief, Rime Coldspray, Frostheart Grueburn, and the others finished their meal quickly. They spent only a few moments thanking Caerwood ur-Mahrtiir. Then they passed beyond the thick willow-trunk to reenter the fane, taking Jeremiah with them so that Covenant and Linden would have some semblance of privacy.
    Stave also went into the construct, bowing first to Caerwood ur-Mahrtiir, then to Covenant, finally and most deeply to Linden. However, Branl remained. “Ur-Lord,” the Humbled said with his usual absence of inflection, “the return of the Chosen is a cause for gladness in itself, and is more so because she has restored a Forestal to the Land. Yet in one respect, it is misfortune. The Giants have been denied their
caamora
.”
    To the sudden inquiry of Linden’s expression, he explained, “The ur-Lord sought to relieve their sorrow by drawing flame from Longwrath’s remains. Your arrival interrupted his efforts. Now Longwrath is naught but ash, and we have no wood.”
    While Linden winced in regret, Branl addressed Covenant once more. “Among Giants, denied lamentation is an enduring distress. Other tasks we have in abundance. And doubtless the Swordmainnir will be prompt to set aside their needs. Nonetheless I urge you to seek some blaze in which they may ease their loss.
    “I am a Master of the Land,” he said as if he were merely reciting a formula rather than acknowledging a profound change. “I bear the taint of the unwelcome which the Giants have received at our hands. I would make amends, but have no means to do so.”
    “Oh, stop,” Covenant protested. “I forgot about that. We all had too much going on. But of course you’re right. I”—he glanced at Linden—“we won’t forget again.”
    “We won’t,” Linden affirmed. “And I won’t forget what you’ve done. I haven’t been fair to you. I should have known better.”
    Instead of nodding to her, as he had done so often in the past, Branl bowed. And when he had shown the same respect to both Covenant and Caerwood ur-Mahrtiir, he left the bower between the hanging branches to stand guard outside.
    Alone with the Forestal, Covenant and Linden faced each other as if they had lost the ability to look anywhere else; but they did not move.
    Briefly Caerwood ur-Mahrtiir sang words that Covenant recognized.
        “I am the Land’s Creator’s hold:
    I inhale all expiring breath,
    And breathe out life to bind and heal.”
    Then he faded into his music as if he had made himself one with the willow and the boughs, the leaves and the bedizening melody. In a moment, he was gone.
    “Covenant—” Linden bit her lip, twisted the ring on her finger. “I have too much to tell you. And there are so many things I—”
    He interrupted her with a grin that felt like a grimace. “Don’t you think it’s about time you stopped calling me ‘Covenant’?”
    “Thomas, then,” she offered. “Thomas. Thomas of my heart.”
    He would have accepted anything, but he was grateful that she did not choose to call him
Tom
.
    When he opened his arms, she came to him like an act of grace.

    hen they were done, they lay relaxed on billows of grass, covered by the soft radiance of the bower. For a time, they talked casually, softly, reminding themselves of each other. But then they turned to more serious concerns.
    Covenant had his own questions, but Linden spoke first. Somber with doubt, she asked him what he thought about Jeremiah.
    He sighed to himself. “You