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

gestured at Scatterwit.
    Linden glanced in that direction, saw Scatterwit limping more heavily than before. Far more heavily. With every step, she lurched to the right, toward the lake, as if she had lost her balance. She seemed to recover by force of will.
    God—
    Baf Scatterwit’s right foot had been cut away, severed at the ankle. A clean slice: clean and cauterized. There was no blood. She seemed unaware that her foot was gone. She moved as if only her damaged knee pained her.
    Linden started to shout a warning at the Giants; but Grueburn stopped her. Through her teeth, the Swordmain snarled, “They know.” Abruptly she slapped her sword back into its scabbard. With her free hand, she supported Scatterwit so that the woman could hurry without toppling.
    Panic and Grueburn’s rush broke Linden’s hold on the Staff. Earthpower and black flame faltered. The air dug a knife into Linden’s chest. But Jeremiah tightened his grip a moment later, took up the slack. Complex stresses gleamed on his cheeks and forehead.
    Between one urgent breath and the next, Linden saw Stave rise higher than Rime Coldspray’s head. His fingers and toes gripped the damaged stone like claws. Another breath, and he had climbed more than halfway. Then he gained the lip of the tunnel and passed out of sight, trailing the rope behind him.
    Now, Linden thought. Now he has to secure it.
    There was nothing that she could do for Scatterwit.
    Stave did not have time. With Grueburn’s help, Scatterwit joined the other Giants. Kindwind and Jeremiah came last. Bluff Stoutgirth gave Scatterwit a look of anguish, then jerked his head away. Other sailors chewed their silence as if they sought to break their teeth. They were all ready. Covenant now clung to Coldspray’s back, leaving her arms unencumbered. But the lake still rose. In a few heartbeats, no more, it would threaten the nearest feet. It would sever—
    Stave’s line jerked. At a word from the Anchormaster, Wiver Setrock grabbed it, tested it. Carrying more rope, Setrock swarmed upward, a sailor adept at ratlines and hawsers. Unlike Stave’s, his feet slipped here and there; but those momentary skids hardly slowed him. If the corrupted water hurt him, he ignored the pain.
    He reached the lip, vanished into the river’s tunnel. Moments later, his line snaked down to his comrades. Then Keenreef and Hurl were climbing, each with new ropes.
    The lake crept higher. The waiting Giants squeezed closer to the wall. Some of them stood in the waterfall, breathing with their mouths covered. The Feroce watched from a short distance. The water came to their ankles, then to their knees; but they did not fear it. Green and silver shone in their limpid eyes.
    Linden wanted to tell Coldspray and Kindwind to go next, take Covenant and Jeremiah to safety. But when she tried to speak, her voice failed. She could not imagine how Cirrus Kindwind would bear Jeremiah upward with only one hand.
    From the Ironhand’s back, Covenant asked the lurker’s creatures, “What about you? We need you.”
    “The Feroce are the Feroce,” they replied as if that answer sufficed. Sinking at every step, they began to back away. As they submerged, their fires flared briefly on the water, then went out.
    “Hellfire,” Covenant muttered. “Bloody damnation.”
    To Coldspray, the Anchormaster said, “In such straits, my will commands.” His tone held an unexpected edge of authority. “You and Frostheart Grueburn must ascend. Halewhole Bluntfist and Etch Furledsail will assist Cirrus Kindwind.” He hesitated for an instant, then growled, “Baf Scatterwit must hold the rear.”
    Scatterwit responded with a laugh like the croak of a raven.
    Of course, Linden thought bitterly. Scatterwit had been maimed. Therefore she was more expendable than her comrades.
    Groaning to herself, Linden worked her way around Grueburn until she reached Grueburn’s back. The Swordmain would need both hands—
    Abruptly Jeremiah’s power evaporated. “Sorry about this.” Tension thrummed in his voice. “I’ll get back to it.”
    Lifted by Kindwind, he went over her shoulder to her back. As he shifted, he braced the Staff across her breastplate so that he could hold it with his arms on either side of her neck. There he hung, hugging the sides of her chest with his legs. Then he shut his eyes; began to exert Earthpower again. Black flame twisted upward in front of Kindwind’s face.
    Four lines now dangled from the darkness of the