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

happen.”
    Still Jeremiah kept his head turned away as if he were thinking about something else; as if in his mind he had left her behind.
    Kindwind opened her mouth to say something, then reconsidered and remained silent.
    Now Covenant came closer, steering Mishio Massima among the Giants. The comprehension in his eyes made Linden want to hide in his arms as if he had the power to spare her; as if his embrace might heal the wound of her son’s straits. But when he reached her side, he said nothing about Jeremiah. Instead he announced, “That was easier than I expected.”
    He may have been trying to deflect her from her fears.
    “Those translations are draining. I can’t even begin to tell you how tired I’ve been since I went after
turiya
. Branl had to carry me. By the time I got to Kastenessen, I was so exhausted I didn’t think I could stay on my feet. But this time—
    “Hellfire, Linden. This time I had help. I felt it. With so many of us, it still should have been difficult, even for a rightful wielder. But you helped me.”
    Then he changed the subject. Without transition, he asked, “Can you see the stars? My eyes aren’t that good anymore.”
    The stars—?
    For no apparent reason, the Swordmainnir began to relax. The Ironhand nodded. Frostheart Grueburn chuckled softly. Onyx Stonemage, Cirrus Kindwind, and the others looked bewildered for a moment. Then they smiled. They seemed to understand Covenant better than Linden did.
    “The stars, Linden,” he insisted patiently. “Are they dying? Are they all dead?”
    After an instant like another translocation, she caught up with him. The Giants were shaking their heads, but they let her answer Covenant.
    The stars. When she looked at the sky, she saw that they were fewer than they had been mere days ago. The gaps between them were wider. Nevertheless no more of the forlorn lights were winking out. From horizon to horizon, they remained as bright as supplications in the black heavens.
    “All right,” she breathed as if she had forgotten to be afraid. “All
right
. He did it. He’s doing it. My God, he’s
doing
it.”
    Mahrtiir.
    “No.” Covenant spoke softly, but he sounded like he was crowing. “You did that. You. You took Mahrtiir into a
caesure
and brought back a Forestal. You made him strong enough to forbid the actual Worm of the World’s End. Sure,
he’s
saving the
Elohim
. But
you
made it possible.”
    He was looking, not at her, but at Jeremiah. He was trying to tell Jeremiah something—
    But he did not wait for some sign that the boy had heard him. Glancing around the cluster of Giants, he pointed at Linden with one foreshortened finger.
    “My wife,” he pronounced as if those two words were a celebration. “Anele was right. The world won’t see her like again.”
    He took her by surprise. For a moment, her eyes filled with tears. She could hardly remember being a woman who wept too easily.
    Wiping her cheeks, she missed Jeremiah’s immediate reaction. When she turned to him again, his shoulders were hunched, strangling emotions. “Fine,” he rasped yet again. He was talking to Covenant. “I saved the
Elohim
. Stave did. The Giants did. You did. Mom did. Caerwood ur-Mahrtiir did. That’s great.
    “What do we do now?”
    Several of the Giants grimaced at his tone. Scowling, Covenant showed his teeth as if he wanted to take a bite out of the boy. But it was Stave who answered.
    “We have shared an abundance of
aliantha
,” he remarked with particular dispassion. “You and the Chosen have not.”
    The Ironhand nodded gravely. “Indeed, Stave Rockbrother.” At the same time, Cabledarm and Halewhole Bluntfist raised their waterskins.
    “Fortuitously,” Cabledarm proclaimed to Linden, “we are Giants, and provident. In addition to water, we bear treasure-berries. They will feed us well enough for the present, and perhaps for the morrow as well.”
    For a moment, Linden simply stared while her emotions tried to go in too many directions at once. Then she murmured an inadequate thanks.
    Yet she could not leave Jeremiah as he was, not without offering him some form of acknowledgment. In the act of reaching for Bluntfist’s waterskin, she paused. “But Jeremiah is right. What
are
we going to do? Saving the
Elohim
is just a delay. We have to do more.” With a quick glance at Covenant, she suggested, “Maybe we can talk about that while Jeremiah and I eat.”
    Jeremiah accepted treasure-berries from Cabledarm as if he