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

mean, not counting the fact he’s actually
with
us? After what he’s been through? It’s amazing he can so much as speak, never mind design that sanctuary for the
Elohim
. He’s already done a world of good. If you want more, you should talk to him.”
    She certainly needed to know how much her son had inherited from Anele. She needed to know about Kastenessen.
    She cuffed him lightly. “That’s not an answer.”
    “I know. But I’m serious. He should tell his own story. He doesn’t want to, but he should. Maybe you’ll have better luck than I did.”
    Linden gnawed at her lower lip for a moment. “I’m not sure that I have the right to pry. He’s already pushed me away more than once. I might do more harm than good.”
    Covenant shrugged against her head on his shoulder. “I’m not sure anybody has the right. Maybe prying does more harm than good. But look at it this way. He’s too young for his years. He’s had experiences that could cripple an adult, and he’s never had a chance to grow into them. Parts of him are still a kid.” And parts of him remembered the
croyel
.
    “Sometimes kids need their parents to pry. Sometimes I think Roger wouldn’t be such a mess if his mother ever took an interest in him.”
    Covenant himself had never been given an opportunity with his son.
    Luminous in the warmth of Caerwood ur-Mahrtiir’s music, Linden rolled over to rest her hands on Covenant’s chest, prop her chin there and study his face.
    “Thomas, what happened to you? What did you do after you left? How did you do it? What healed your mind? How did you change how Branl thinks?”
    He winced reflexively. But he did not refuse to answer. Eased by her love, he was able to describe the days that he had spent away from her.
    When he was done, she hugged him hard and wordlessly. For a time, she seemed to take his anguish and dread from him; and he thought about nothing except her.
    Afterward they rested. But neither of them slept.
    In a more playful mood, she asked, “So why aren’t you growing a beard? You’re human now. All the way human. As far as I can tell, the Arch of Time has lost its hold on you. Why isn’t your beard growing?”
    “I don’t know,” he admitted. “If I ever did, it’s gone. But if I had to guess—”
    Briefly he rubbed at his cheeks, pushed his fingers through his transformed hair. “You didn’t have access to my physical self. That part of me died so long ago there was nothing left. And yet here I am. You must have created me out of my self-image.” He spread his maimed hands. “Apparently that includes leprosy, but it doesn’t include whiskers.”
    Long ago, shaving had been a form of self-abnegation for him, a punitive discipline. He was glad to be rid of the necessity.
    Stroking her, he said, “Now it’s your turn. Linden, you’re a mystery to me. And I don’t just mean—” He gestured to indicate her adored body. “I don’t think I’ve ever been as surprised as I was when the Feroce offered me an alliance.” Surprised and dismayed. “Somehow you did that. Somehow you saved me.” He would not have reached Joan, or survived his attempt on
turiya
Herem, without the aid of Feroce. “But you did more than that. You also rescued Jeremiah.” When she shook her head, he amended, “I mean, you gave him what he needed to rescue himself.
    “That would have been enough for anybody else, but not for you.” Not for a woman who thought so little of herself. “After you brought Jeremiah here, you went to find the only possible source of forbidding.” The only hope for the
Elohim
, and perhaps for the Earth. “Then you did something even more miraculous. You came back. Without using a
caesure
.
    “Linden”—he kissed her eyelids, her nose, her mouth—“you amaze me. I want to know how you did it.”
    He saw her reluctance. It showed in the way she shifted to nestle against his shoulder so that he could not look into her eyes or watch her face. For a moment, he was afraid again. But then she began to answer, and his fear left him.
    Because he knew the outcome, he listened calmly as she described how the Feroce had tried to lure her into the grasp of the lurker, and how Infelice had striven to prevent Jeremiah from freeing himself in Muirwin Delenoth. Jeremiah’s desire to build a construct that might preserve the
Elohim
. The message of the Feroce. Her own decision to enter a
caesure
. Her arms tightened like grief around Covenant as she talked about