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

of flesh. Even the Ranyhyn cannot equal his fleetness, and your mount is no Ranyhyn. How can the lurker be spared if we cannot overtake
turiya
Herem?”
    Dimly through the dusk, Covenant saw Rallyn and Hooryl returning, bringing Mishio Massima with them. They seemed to know that the time had come to bear their riders again.
    He exhaled hard; panted briefly for air. “I have no idea,” he admitted. “I’ll have to think of something.”
    At that moment, he believed that he would succeed. Like Brinn, Clyme and Branl had given him what he needed. While the Humbled stood with him, he could imagine that anything was possible.

    ut he put off thinking until he and his companions had ridden far enough to find
aliantha
. He needed time to absorb Clyme’s and Branl’s acquiescence. And he felt thin with hunger. He had eaten nothing since he and his companions had left their covert in the cliff early the previous morning. The streams that the Ranyhyn discovered now eased him somewhat; but water was not nourishment—and it was certainly not treasure-berries. He craved the rich benison of the Land’s health and vitality. Without it, he could not reason clearly enough to untangle the riddle of
turiya
Herem’s head start.
    Fortunately Branl and Clyme knew where they had last seen
aliantha
. And Covenant did not doubt that the Ranyhyn could have located the holly-like shrubs even without the guidance of the Humbled. The way seemed long to him, but Clyme pointed toward the first bush well before the unbroken twilight became midafternoon.
    There Covenant dismounted. At once, Mishio Massima lowered its head to the grass as if nothing mattered except food. Carrying the
krill
again, Branl remained with Covenant while Clyme rode ahead to gather more berries so that Covenant would not be required to waste time searching for a sufficient meal.
    At the first tang of the fruit in his mouth, Covenant seemed to feel Brinn’s hand reaching out to him across the leagues and hours; touching his sore forehead and damaged ribs and battered arms with renewal. In its own way,
aliantha
was as much a gift as the
ak-Haru
’s aid, and as precious. It answered questions which the Humbled had not asked.
    It was for
this
that Covenant had to find and stop
turiya
, and then go on to the next battle, and the next. Not for the lurker. Not for the
Elohim
, in spite of their slow, inexorable decimation. Not even for Linden, although his ache for her resembled weeping. No, it was for
aliantha
that he had to fight: for treasure-berries, and for Wraiths; for hurtloam and Glimmermere and Salva Gildenbourne, Andelain and EarthBlood; for the Ranyhyn and their Ramen; for ur-viles and Waynhim; and for every mortal heart as valiant and treasurable as Liand’s, or as Anele’s. For their sake, he had to catch up with the Raver. He had to find a way.
    When he had eaten enough to take the edge off his hunger, he began to pace slowly, chewing fruit, scattering seeds, and talking. The numbness of his feet made him feel that he walked a friable surface tipping him toward vertigo. Nevertheless he persevered. He needed to hear his thoughts aloud in order to believe in them. And he needed movement to loosen the knots that bound him to his limitations.
    The Worm was coming. Lord Foul’s triumph drew closer with every hesitation, every delay. The Land could not be saved by anything less than extravagant efforts and hope.
    Hope did not come easily to lepers. But Covenant had learned that there were better answers than grim survival and despair. He had been taught by more friends and loves than he could count.
    Unsteadily he ate, and marked out a circle on the giving ground with his steps, and talked.
    “I keep thinking about Linden,” he muttered as if he were speaking to Branl. With a wave of one hand, he dismissed a protest which his companion did not utter. “I was watching her. I remember her life almost as well as mine.
    “She should have died when she first arrived on Kevin’s Watch. A
caesure
broke the Watch right after she met Anele. All those tons of shattered granite collapsed like they fell from the sky. She should have been crushed. They both should have been reduced to pulp. But she kept them alive.
    “I’m asking myself, how did she
do
that?”
    Concentrating on other things, he lost his balance as if he had tripped. He almost fell. The deadening of his nerves was becoming extreme. Still he was familiar with such dilemmas. The loss of sensation was