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

until we see the Feroce. They’re the real danger.” The theurgy of green fires cupped like instances of the Illearth Stone in their palms enabled them to enter her mind. They could erase the distinction between reality and memory. “The lurker can’t reach us if we don’t get too close.”
    “I don’t care about that,” Jeremiah put in. His voice seemed to come from the bottom of an abyss. “The Ranyhyn are desperate.
    “I don’t think I have the kind of power that’s good for fighting. But I can be a distraction. I mean, since the lurker is so hungry for Earthpower. Maybe I can get its attention.”
    “Then stay back,” Linden ordered hoarsely. “If you’re going to distract anything, do it from a safe distance. Let Stave and me protect you.”
    As she spoke, Hyn’s strides began to slow. Just for an instant, Linden thought that the mare had come to the end of her endurance. But the smell of water was so thick that it hurt Linden’s sinuses; and she recognized almost at once that Hyn was slackening her gait deliberately.
    Stave responded by urging Linden to dismount. “The littoral of the marsh is nigh. We must remain beyond the lurker’s reach.”
    When Linden nodded her consent, Hyn staggered to a halt. While Linden slid to the ground, Stave sprang down from Hynyn’s back. Lurching, Khelen brought Jeremiah to Linden’s side. In spite of his impatience, Jeremiah did not complain as he dismounted. Instead he patted Khelen’s neck, muttering, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right.”
    The young stallion whickered thinly. Shambling into the darkness with Hyn and Hynyn, he headed toward water and forage.
    While Linden watched the horses, Stave spoke again. “Await me, Chosen. I will attempt to discover
aliantha
. If I discern water which we may drink without harm, I will guide you to it.”
    At once, he followed the Ranyhyn. Like them, he disappeared as if he had been swallowed by the tenebrous air.
    He may conceivably have wished to let Linden talk to Jeremiah alone. Beneath his
Haruchai
dispassion lay a familiar capacity for solicitude.
    But what could she say to her son? In certain respects, she understood him too well. Trapped deep within him, a terrible storm was brewing. He needed his defenses, his urgent focus on a vital task, to contain the violence of his refused memories. And he was altogether too young for his years. Lost in dissociation, he had not had time to learn how to live with himself.
    As gently as she could, she murmured, “You told Khelen not to worry, but I can’t help it.” Feeling him stiffen, she continued, “Oh, I’m not worried about the waiting. You can do that when you have to. You’ve had plenty of practice.
    “No, it’s what you want to do for the
Elohim
that scares me. A door like that—You’ll have to make it so
big
. It’s going to take time. And when you’re done, it’s going to be vulnerable. If we can’t protect it—”
    She would need help. She could no longer ignore that truth. More help than any of her friends could supply. Covenant himself had said it.
We’re too weak the way we are
.
We need power
. More power than Loric’s
krill
could summon, or the Staff of Law diminished by Kevin’s Dirt, or a woman who was not a rightful white gold wielder.
    At her side, Jeremiah relaxed a bit. “I know,” he admitted grimly. “If we go through all that—I mean, if we find enough malachite, and the Giants help me build what I want, and it pulls the
Elohim
in, at least all the ones who’re left—and then the Worm just swallows my door—” He shuddered. “That’ll be worse than anything.”
    Hearing him reminded Linden of Kevin Landwaster and her own despair. Before she could respond, however, he said, “But, Mom.” He sounded as harsh as the night. “I have to try. I don’t know what else to do.”
    That, too, she understood. “Then listen to me,” she returned more sharply than she intended. “Building your door—That’s your part. And it’s enough. It’s
enough
. The rest is up to us.” It was up to her. “We’ll figure out a way to protect it. And if we can’t, you’ll just have to keep reminding yourself that
you did your part
. You aren’t responsible for what happens after that.”
    “But it’ll all be wasted!” he protested. “They’ll all die.”
    High Lord Kevin must have felt the same before the Ritual of Desecration. Nevertheless his ancestors among the Dead had forgiven him. And Linden had missed