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

we could get in any other way. But this was a disaster.
    “Hellfire, Coldspray! I just about got us all killed.” To the other Giant, he added, “If you hadn’t showed up—”
    Or if, Linden amended on his behalf, he had not feared his own power; if he had unleashed enough wild magic to cleanse the whole valley. If he had indeed been
done with restraint
. Yet she believed that he had done well to hold back. He had little health-sense, and wild magic tended always to resist control. He might have inadvertently killed his companions.
    “Enough, Timewarden,” the Ironhand replied, peremptory with fatigue and loss. “It is bootless to fault yourself for an onslaught which you could not have foreseen. Our peril here was both extreme and bitter. Yet it has not exceeded the hazards of the more direct road. And here we have found aid as unforeseen as our foes.”
    Linden nodded privately. Soon she would have to go to Covenant, if he did not approach her first. She needed his embrace to console her. And she wanted to explain herself as well as she could. She was done keeping secrets, especially from him.
    But her son took precedence. She could only imagine what Lord Foul’s visions and his own helplessness had done to him.
    She allowed herself a bit more food, a few more swallows of
diamondraught
-tinged water. Then she began the immense labor of rising to her feet.
    At once, Stave came to help her. His hand on her arm lifted her, steadied her. His single eye studied her as if she were no longer closed to him. In silence, he supported her toward Jeremiah.
    As Linden approached, Cirrus Kindwind moved away. Clearly she needed the solace of her own people.
    Every step sharpened Linden’s perception of her son’s despair. Her nerves assured her that his mind was still present. Although he rocked back and forth like an abused child, he had not retreated to his graves. Nevertheless he looked lost in misery.
    For a moment, she paused to think. But she was too tired and sure to reconsider anything. Lowering herself down the Staff of Law, she knelt facing Jeremiah. Then she set the Staff on the soaked ground between them.
    “Jeremiah, honey. Can you hear me? Are you listening?”
    Hugging his face against his thighs, he rocked harder.
    “Jeremiah, listen.” Her voice was a sigh. “I know it’s hard.” How many times had Thomas said that to her? “But we’re still alive.” Others were not. “This isn’t the end. We can finish what we started.”
    Muffled by his legs, Jeremiah whispered, “You can. I can’t.”
    Linden searched herself for strength. “What do you mean?”
    Slowly his head came up as if he were summoning indignation; as if her question insulted him. Memories of Sandgorgons and
skurj
capered like ghouls in his haunted gaze.
    “Because I can’t
do
anything, that’s why.” He made a visible effort to sound angry, but his voice held only anguish. “I wasn’t even in danger. Foul wants me alive. But there were all those monsters, and I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t do anything except watch. And even when I did that, I could still see the Worm. Even when Latebirth and Galesend were dying, and it was horrible, and there was blood everywhere, and those fangs. I could still see the Worm. Every minute, it does more damage than all the
skurj
in the world, and there’s nothing I can do.”
    As guerdon for his puerile valor—
    Aching for him, Linden summoned her courage. “I know. It must have been terrible for you. That’s why I want you to take my Staff.”
    She expected surprise, but he only looked away. “Why? It won’t make any difference. I can’t use it. I don’t know how. It isn’t mine. You’ll just have to take it back. You won’t have any choice.”
    She was tempted to reach out and shake him; but she refrained. He was too full of dismay to appreciate what she was offering him. As calmly as she could, she admitted, “We might have to take turns at first. The Giants and Thomas are hurt. They need me. But you can still get started. And I don’t always have to hold it. I can use some of its power without touching it. That doesn’t change anything. I still want you to have it. I want it to be yours.”
    “Why?” Jeremiah repeated like a groan.
    “Because you need to be able to defend yourself,” he needed to believe in himself, “and I don’t need it anymore. I have white gold—and I can’t use both. No one can. Earthpower and wild magic together are too much. So now I