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

though they were abashed or frightened, dismayed by awe. Eschewing his forehead, they touched lightly on his wedding ring, then scampered away, relieved and eager, piquant as trills.
    When the Wraiths had bestowed their approval and were done, the companions resumed their effortless travel.
    Later, on a rise crowned with larch and plane, they heard a snatch of song. There they paused to listen.
    Swelling around them, melodies arched and ached among the boughs. A counterpoint as deep as roots joined the music, and leaves offered a fluttering descant: the strophes of an ode to spring and fertile burgeoning, to anticipations of ripe summer. Soon the whole woodland seemed on the verge of full-throated song. But then the chorus shrank or condensed until it became Caerwood ur-Mahrtiir striding upward with the earned remains of his staff cradled in one arm.
    Calling his name, Linden started toward her dear friend. After a few steps, however, she halted at the sight of the crowd ascending behind the former Manethrall.
    Tall figures followed the Forestal, creatures sculpted and kingly in their perfection. A few were grey, the rest as black as the departing night. Like Caerwood ur-Mahrtiir, they were eyeless. But he had lost his orbs in battle: they had been fashioned without the need for ordinary sight. Where gaping nostrils had once dominated their faces, they now had more human noses which they appeared to bear proudly; and their mouths could smile. The straight strength of their limbs matched the symmetry of their forms and the sovereignty of their carriage.
    The tallest of the creatures accompanied the Forestal a step behind his right shoulder: the loremaster. The rest of the transformed ur-viles and Waynhim stopped a few strides away. The loremaster carried its fearsome iron jerrid in one fist, but the other creatures had exchanged their eldritch knives for wands like twigs with which they appeared to shape the verdant music.
    “Mahrtiir?” Linden began. “Caerwood ur-Mahrtiir? You have no idea—Are these—?” Unable to complete a question, she said through her tears, “I am so glad to see you!”
    “We are well met,” mused the Forestal, “well met in all sooth, Ringthane, Linden Avery, friend. And well met also, Covenant Timewarden and young Jeremiah. Among unforeseen wonders, you are a particular delight. Though I sang against the Worm with every aspect of my given strength, I did not prevent the world’s death. Nor could I evade it. Yet I am here. Indeed, all who clung to life at the moment of the Earth’s extinction live still. While the restored Arch endures, you will be remembered and honored among all of the wide world’s forests.”
    “But how did you get here?” asked Linden. “We left you—I don’t even know how far we’ve come.”
    “Andelain is here,” answered the ur-Mahrtiir. “Salva Gildenbourne is nigh. When the Worm had turned aside from my service to the fane, I wished to meet my passing among the trees and richness and innocence which I love. Therefore I sang to these woodlands, and was conveyed hither.”
    At once, he continued, “I will not linger. The sight of you suffices for me, Linden Ringthane. A task immense and needful awaits, and I am avid to begin while my powers freshen within me. Much of lands and peoples, of wood and mountains, has been laid waste, much that cannot be restored. Yet much remains. And there can be no true healing that does not commence with trees.
    “I am become the Earth’s Forestal.”
    “Alone?” Linden inquired like a plea. “Alone, Mahrtiir?”
    Caerwood ur-Mahrtiir sang mirth. “Assuredly not, Linden Avery, friend. With me are these ur-viles and Waynhim, the last of their kind. Aye, they are Demondim-spawn, given life by lore rather than by natural birth. But they are also High Lord Elena redeemed from torment. They are the Auriference and Emereau Vrai and Diassomer Mininderain and many other women. They are the dark yearning of
merewives
and the sunlit absorption of
Elohim
. And now they are also Forestals.
    “Encountering each other here, and filled with wonder that we had been spared, we spoke at length, these regal creatures and I. I proposed to them a new interpretation of their Weird, one suited to their perfected forms and exalted spirits—and they adjudged the meter and harmony and timbre of my music worthy. I will not labor for the Earth’s renewal alone.
    “In sooth,” the ur-Mahrtiir admitted, “our task is too great for