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

carnage.
    Then he was gasping on the flat shelf of the third level, and Linden was shouting his name, urgent as fever, and the bridge back across the gulf to the fifth level was only a dozen paces away. Cavewights came from both directions, but he had no time for them. He caught his balance on the sight of the span he had just crossed. Up the curve slick with slaughter, more Cavewights rose like executioners; like deserved death. They poured from the passage where the company had entered this habitation, gushed upward in a flood released by the dying of Masters.
    They were too many. That was all: they were just too many. The Swordmainnir and the
Haruchai
were already fighting desperately, drenched in blood. Trusting Covenant, Linden, and Jeremiah to Stave, Branl sprinted to support his kinsmen. Jeremiah trembled on the verge of panic, ready to hurl black devastation in all directions. Linden stood with him, but she looked lost, unable to help him: appalled or paralyzed. A deranged part of Covenant wanted to demolish the whole place, children and families and everything living. He and his companions could not survive
more
Cavewights.
    Suddenly calm, almost at peace with his dizziness, he went to face the creatures rising in rage up the bridge. Once again, he shaped wild magic along the blade of the
krill
, formed a longsword of fierce argent. With it, he began hacking great hunks of granite out of the span.
    When the Cavewights there saw what he was doing, they froze.
    Three blows cut halfway through the indurated substance of the bridge. The fourth sent shivers down its length. The stone screamed at its own weight.
    Shrieking, the creatures turned to flee. Most of them reached the lower ledge before the bridge fell in thunder. The rest plummeted.
    Still swinging, Covenant nearly followed the wreckage into the depths. Stave dragged him back.
    Covenant did not pause. Every thought was gone from his head: every notion or awareness except a compulsory desire to get his people out of here. He would never rid himself of the taste of blood. Brandishing slaughter, he ran to help his companions reach the next bridge.

    e and those with him were only able to gain the fifth level because new groups of Masters entering the habitation converged where they were needed. Fresh and unbloodied, they threw their lives into the mass of Cavewights. They were
Haruchai
. In a distant region of the Land, two hundred of them rode to oppose the Worm of the World’s End with their bare hands. Fighting and dying like men who had never known fear and did not count the cost, they helped Rime Coldspray and Frostheart Grueburn clear the top of the span.
    Of the Masters ascending with the Swordmainnir, only Canrik and Samil remained. Branl alone guarded the rear, contesting every step with Longwrath’s flamberge. Somehow Stave kept spears away from Covenant, Linden, and Jeremiah.
    Fortunately the tunnel toward Kiril Threndor was near. And the Cavewights blocking the way had been scattered by unexpected Masters. From the opposite wall, more creatures came, loud as thunder, vehement as lightning; but most of them were not close enough to strike.
    Still they were too many, as they had been from the first. They would follow the company into the passage ahead. Eventually they would kill everyone.
    At Canrik’s urging, Coldspray and Grueburn led their companions into the blind dark of the tunnel. He and Samil joined Branl and Stave guarding the rear. The surviving Masters arrayed themselves at the opening, braced to die so that the Cavewights could not pursue.
    “No,” Covenant panted at them. “Come with us.”
    He had seen too many
Haruchai
killed.
    Branl silenced him. “Will you seal the passage, ur-Lord?”
    Covenant struggled to breathe. “Yes.”
    He could not have done so in the earlier tunnels. The company might have needed to retreat. Now he had gained a path to the Despiser. There was no going back.
    “Then,” said Branl flatly, “these Masters will aid the other Giants and the Cords.”
    Covenant tried to move; tried to lift the
krill
. Are you serious? You want me to leave them out there? His arms refused to obey him until the warriors outside the tunnel met his frantic gaze and nodded their approval.
    Even here, they made their own choices. He could not gainsay them.
    Groaning curses, he forged fire along the blade of Loric’s dagger for the last time. Unsteady as a man who had forgotten the use of his limbs, he slashed silver at