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

around his foe. Opening his heart, he accepted Lord Foul the Despiser into himself.

    hen it was done, Thomas Covenant turned to the people who had redeemed him. If he could have looked at himself, he would have seen the scar on his forehead gleaming.
    “Thomas,” Linden breathed. Earthpower and argent shone like wonder in her gaze. “Oh, Thomas. I don’t understand. I don’t know what it means. I’m just glad that I got to see it.”
    Stave nodded his acknowledgment. His assent.
    Canrik’s face was hidden. Squatting beside Branl, he did what he could for the Humbled. Rime Coldspray and Frostheart Grueburn simply stared, too exhausted to recognize their relief.
    Kiril Threndor stumbled as if Mount Thunder itself had flinched. Chunks of the ceiling broke loose. Fissures clenched the walls, unclenched. In the distance, the mountain’s shoulders shrugged avalanches. Covenant felt the Earth’s foundations failing. But Jeremiah’s forbidding protected everyone in the chamber. He hardly seemed to notice his own prowess.
    “So am I,” the boy admitted. More sourly, he said, “Too bad we won’t get to enjoy it.”
    Covenant tried to smile. “What are you talking about?” He spoke to Jeremiah, but he poured out his heart to Linden. “This is our chance. We can’t stop what’s happening, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to save the Earth. I know that sounds impossible, but maybe it isn’t. We don’t have to create an entire reality from scratch. We just have to put the pieces of this one back together.
    “If we follow the Worm—and if we pick up the pieces fast enough—and if we know where they belong—”
    Perhaps the Arch and the world could be rebuilt from the fragments of their destruction.
    “We have everything we need,” he assured Jeremiah. “Two white gold wielders. The Staff of Law. Linden’s health-sense. Your talent. Hell, we still have the
krill
. And I think—” His face twisted with pain and chagrin and hope. “I’m not sure, but I think I know everything Lord Foul knows.”
    The Despiser had striven for eons to escape his prison. His knowledge of the created world was both vast and intricate.
    Jeremiah stood straighter. His hands tightened eagerly on the Staff. “I’ve learned a few things myself.”
    “And I’ve seen She Who Must Not Be Named without all of that agony and bitterness,” offered Linden. “I know what She means.”
    In spite of its galls and strain, hers was the most beautiful face that Covenant had ever seen.
    “We can do this,” he said as if he were sure. “We can do it together.”
    There is no doom so black or deep—
    Linden looked at Jeremiah. “Then you had better get rid of that Raver. He’s holding you back.”
    Moksha
had probably exacerbated Jeremiah’s faltering earlier.
    Jeremiah nodded. He closed his eyes. For a moment, he grimaced. He may have feared losing what he had gained from the Raver; feared losing a part of himself. But then he became a brief flare of Earthpower and forbidding.
    Darkness billowed out of him.
Moksha
writhed uselessly, seeking a body that could sustain him. But the Giants were too weary to be used, Branl was too severely injured, and Stave and Canrik were too obdurate. Howling, the Raver fled.
    Braced on Stave’s shoulder, Covenant left the dais. When he had reclaimed Loric’s dagger, he stabbed it into the stone where Lord Foul had stood. It had held the Despiser there briefly. Perhaps it would do something similar for Mount Thunder’s heart.
    In the light of the gem, Covenant went to stand with Linden and Jeremiah.
    Their faces were starting to blur. Bits of them seemed to fade in and out of solidity. The ichor of the mountain streamed from the walls, spattered from the ceiling. The dust of pulverized gutrock rose like spume from the cracking floor. For an instant, Branl appeared to be whole again. For another, he resembled a desiccated corpse. Canrik’s wounds and those of the Swordmainnir wavered between past and future.
    “If it will be done,” Stave said, or had said, or would say, “it must be done now. Do not fear for us. We are at peace. Our deeds here would content the heart of any
Haruchai
.”
    “And of any Giant,” Rime Coldspray managed faintly.
    Covenant took the time to embrace Linden; to give her the best kiss that he had in him. He delayed long enough to ruffle Jeremiah’s hair. Then he said simply, “Now.”
    With his halfhand, he clasped Linden’s left. Sharing his burdens, he