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

blaze like a bonfire barely contained, bound by force of will in the shape of a whirling pillar as tall as any Giant. As he burned, the
krill
fell from his fingers: he no longer needed it. Flames seemed to burst from every inch of him. They looked pure enough to render his flesh from his bones. Yet he was not consumed. Instead his magicks appeared to exalt him. With wild magic, he could have brought life and time to an end without the aid of the Worm.
    Nevertheless his power was also a howl. It tormented him. It was the contradiction which lay at the center of his plight in the Land,
the one word of truth or treachery
. Without wild magic, nothing could be redeemed. With it, everything might be damned.
    In spite of her dismay, Linden understood. With wild magic, destruction came easily.
That
she knew to be true. She had seen it in
caesures
; in the reaving of Cavewights. With fire, Covenant looked capable of ripping the stars out of the heavens. She did not know how to watch without weeping.
    For a moment while Covenant blazed, Rime Coldspray and the other Giants hesitated. They did not know him as Linden did, but they could see how his attempt to both exert and restrain himself wracked him. At the same time, however, they recognized what he was offering. Even if they had not heard about the gift which he had once given to the Dead of The Grieve, they would have yearned to seize this opportunity.
    He had chosen to risk himself. How could they refuse him?
    Abruptly the Ironhand reached into the whirl of fire, caught Covenant in her huge hands, and lifted him high. There she held him while his flames attacked her flesh as if they threatened to char her bones, reaching for her heart.
    Her grasp threatened his concentration; but he did not withdraw his power.
    Her pain was severe, as she needed it to be. She required such anguish to cauterize her bereavements. Without the cleansing of fire, her sorrow would have become bitterness. Eventually she would have lost her ability to hear joy.
    While Coldspray gripped him, Covenant fought to keep his balance between too much and not enough. But when she passed him to Frostheart Grueburn, his self-control faltered. Wild magic mounted higher.
    Linden watched him with her own agony. Cries that she could not utter closed her throat. Stave had come to stand at her back. He clasped her shoulders to steady her. Jeremiah had dropped the Staff of Law. He gaped at Covenant with consternation in his silted gaze. But she was aware of nothing except silver fire and Thomas Covenant.
    How much could he endure? Three Swordmainnir remained after Grueburn. Stoutgirth and his crew numbered eleven. They, too, were eager for the healing hurt of a
caamora
. How could Covenant possibly—?
    How could she stop him?
    Cirrus Kindwind received him from Grueburn, supported him awkwardly with her good hand and the stump of her maimed forearm. She kept him too long, and not long enough. Sensitive to his ordeal, she did not allow herself to anneal her whole lament. When she released him to Onyx Stonemage, she looked incompletely assuaged.
    Linden could not stop him. She could not help him. Not without possessing him. By imposing her choices on his. By using her health-sense to enter him as she had once entered Jeremiah; as she had done to Covenant himself several times long ago.
    Good cannot be accomplished—
    Hoarse gasps of strain burst between his teeth as Stonemage gave him to Bluntfist.
    “Mom!” Jeremiah yelled. “
Do
something!”
    Near Linden’s ear, Stave said sharply, “Attend, Chosen. Your ring answers.”
    As soon as he said the words, she felt fire spitting from her wedding band.
    She, too, was a rightful white gold wielder.
    —find another truth—
    In the small gap of inspiration between heartbeats, she recovered her voice.
    “Put him down.” From her ring, she drew flames like streamers and wrapped them around her. She spoke fire. “Put him
down
!”
    The Swordmainnir knew her too well. They could not resist her. Baffled and uncertain, Halewhole Bluntfist lowered Covenant to the ground.
    At once, Linden rushed to him. Her arms and her love and her shining she flung around him. Then she gave herself to him—or she made him hers. With percipience, she united their powers until she found a way to balance his extremity with her physician’s caution.
    Together they stood in conflagration while the Giants of Dire’s Vessel crowded around them. Together Covenant and Linden burned as the