Kevin's Watch

Fatal Revenant; Part 2, Chapter 12: Trust Yourself

Linden’s heart thudded as Stave said quietly, “Chosen,” warning her.

What I seek, lady, is to possess your instruments of power.

A moment later, she felt a surge of alarm from Liand. “Heaven and Earth,” he breathed. “He is hear? Does he dare to meditate harm in Andelain?”

What I will have, however, is your companionship.

Under his breath, Mahrtir muttered Ramen curses.

“Mayhap he does not,” suggested Stave. “The Wraiths have permitted him”

And so, my Watch brothers and sisters, we come at last to the shore of the Soulease, and across from its waters, Andelain, the heart of the The Land. And who is waiting on the other side? The Harrow.

Linden, certain in her purpose, is now confused. How is it that he is able to enter Andelain? The Wraiths had not permitted Longwrath to enter, nor would they allow Kastenessen.

The Despiser would not. Perhaps Esmer himself had no power here. Presumably even Roger did not pose a threat. The awakened krill and the Wraiths warded the Hills.

The Harrow as safe. As safe as Linden.

But really, how safe is that?

Linden begins to worry that she will have to give up her Staff or Covenant’s ring…

I am able to convey you to your son.

And yet, if she traded the Staff and the ring to the Harrow in exchange for Jeremiah, how would she then help him. Powerless against Foul and the croyel without them.

The prospect scattered her thoughts like a gust of wind in the dried leaves. She had experienced imponderable rescues, miracles of hope. Caerroil Wildwood had completed her Staff. The Mahdoubt had retrieved her from the Land’s past. And Anele had named other mysteries. Two days ago he had told her that Morinmoss redeemed the covenant, the white gold wielder. The Forestal sang, and Morinmoss answered.

Linden at this point asks Stave to tell her, her friends and the Giants, of the time Covenant was healed of the amanibhavam and his broken ankle. She had not heard of this before.

”If it is sooth that the was drawn into Morinmoss by a Forestal, and that he was restored at a Forestal’s urging, then it may truly be said that he was ‘redeemed’ by the power of wood and sap and song. Also he was later aided by the brief awakening of the Colossus when we confronted High Lord Elena and was powerless.”

Linden draws strength from this, and becomes, once again certain of her purpose. She needs a “miraculous” outcome. But, by the Seven, is what she’s about to do something that should be done????

Linden felt an obscure relief. Her confusion was fading: dripping away like wave tossed water from a boulder. There is more in Andelain—and among the Dead—and in your heart—than Lord Foul can conceive. Once again, she discovered that Anele’s eerie utterances had substance. Remember that he is the hope of the Land.

Without hesitation, Linden urges her companions to cross the Soulease into Andelain.

Ah Andelian!!! Every time my reading thru the Chrons brings me here I rejoice! The Hills are the glory of the Land

Oh Andelian! Forgive! For I am doomed to fail this war…

Reaching the far shore, she confronts The Harrow.

”Say something,” she demanded. “I’m here. It’s your move.”

The Harrow laughed softly. “Be welcome in Andelain, lady.” His voice held the fertile depth of damp loam. [It is simple lines like this one that make me just love the way SRD writes.] Unlike Esmer, he had suffered no apparent damage in their earlier struggle. “You will find much to delight and surprise you in this bourne of peace.”

He may have been mocking her.

“Don’t play games with me,” she retorted. “Peace isn’t one of your strengths. Get to the point.”

He laughed again, a low rustle like the sound of canvas sliding over stone. “Is it not sufficient that I am able to enter Andelain? Must I refrain from the enjoyment of loveliness because Kastenessen and the mere-son and your perished love’s scion cannot share my pleasure?”

Linden started to reply, then stopped herself. Roger was blocked from Andelain? And Esmer? She had hoped for that, but Esmer had not said so explicitly.

Then why did the Harrow hold back? He was in no danger of any kind. Why did he taunt her instead of bargaining?

Applied threats scraped across her nerves. At that moment, however, her certainty was greater than her alarm. She was so close to her goal—

And yet, she is still confused as to just how the Harrow was able to enter the Hills. She continues to confront him, but he seems a bit distracted. She asks why Longwrath was not permitted to enter, wonders if he is “possessed”. The Harrow continues to act as though something else is present, and Linden also senses something but cannot articulate what it might be.

”His blade holds some interest. It was forged at a time millennia past, when Kasreyn of the Gyre feared the Sandgorgons, having not yet devised their Doom. He hungered a weapon puissant to slay those feral beasts. Therefore he wrought the flamberge, aided by the croyel. It was fearsome in the hands of a knowing wielder. Yet its purpose ended when the Sandgorgons were bound to their Doom. Deprived of use, its theurgy fades.”

Staring, Linden asked, “is that what attracted the Wraiths? His sword?

“Lady,” replied the Harrow sardonically, “I have said that his blade holds some interest. It does not fascinate me. And the Wraiths are of no consequence. They merely articulate the might of Loric’s krill. Born of Andelain, they nurture its beauty. Far greater beings walk the Hills, among them one of vast arrogance and self-worship.”

She shook her head, trying to rid herself an innominate whisper. Far greater beings—was he referring to the Dead?

Linden grows impatient, asks the Harrow…

Isn’t it time for you to offer me a bargain? Isn’t that why you are here?”

“It is,” he replied, “and it is not. For the present, it would be bootless to barter. One comes who will preclude my desires without qualm. I do not relish the indignity of being thwarted. I will await a more congenial opportunity to speak of your son.”

It is then that she understands what has been distracting the Harrow, for she begins to hear it too. The sound of bells. At once, she turns from the Harrow. Her companions turn as well, confused by her sudden movement. They could not hear them. Linden watches as women begins to take form against, or of, the looming dusk. It is someone she knows. She is Infelice of the Elohim.

Infelice did not walk on the grass. Instead she moved through the air at the height of the Giants. She may wished to look down on Linden and The Harrow.

Her voice wore a penumbra of bells as she said, “The Insequent speaks sooth, Wildwielder.” Around her, night thickened over the Hills and the Soulsease as if her appearance absorbed the last of the light. “No powers will contend in sacred Andelain. Conscious of his littleness, and embittered, he faults us for arrogance and self-worship. Yet he declines to acknowledge that the quality which he deplores, the certainty that we are equal to all things, preserves his petty machinations as well as his life. Our unconcern spares smaller beings. Were we less than we are, we would have taken umbrage in an earlier age and extinguished the Insequent for their meddlesomeness.”

“You vaunt yourself without cause, Elohim,” retorted the Harrow. “Was not your Appointed Guardian of the One Tree defeated by the Theomach?”

“He was,” admitted Infelice in a tone that conceded nothing. “And in his turn, the Theomach was defeated. Though he strove to affect the Wurd of the Earth, he fell before one mere Haruchai. Thus our present peril is in part attributable to the Insequent. Had the Theomach refrained from aggrandizement, much which now threatens the Earth would not have occurred, and I would not have come to counter your gluttony.”

The Harrow laughed, mocking Infelice as he had mocked Linden. “You are clever, Elohim. You speak truth to conceal truth. Did you not also come to prevent the lady?”

Infelice did not waver. “I did.” Nevertheless expressions molted across her face, ire and grief and alarm commingled with a look that resembled self-pity. “If the Wildwielder will heed me.”

It is after this exchange that Linden decides enough is enough, her purpose is heavy on her shoulders and she needs the krill…and Covenant. She turns from the Harrow and Infelice and announces that she is going to find them. As if on queue, the Wraiths come, dancing and filling the night with their light and music. A few at first, then by scores. They arranged themselves into two lines, marking a path for Linden and her companions to follow to the hollow where the stump that used to be Caer-Caveral, Hile Troy, stood, with the krill embedded. Linden, taking the lead, moves forward. As they follow the path the Harrow says…

”In an ancient age, this night would have been Bana Nimoram, the Celebration of Spring. We might perchance have witnessed the Dance of the Wraiths of Andelain.” Every hint of mockery had fled from his deep voice. “Millennia have passed since they last enacted their rite of gladness. Yet they remain to signify the import of our deeds and needs. Did I not say, lady, that here you would find delight and surprise?” After a pause, he added, “No other Insequent has beheld such a sight.”

Banas Nimoram, what other night could such an event as what is about to transpire have occurred than on the same night Covenant and Atairan witnessed the slaughter of Wraiths by the ur-viles all those centuries ago? There is something to be said of irony…

Infelice insists on talking about Linden’s intentions, but Linden has a question…

”Even though you’re equal to all things, you sometimes take matters into your own hands. You’re here to block the Harrow. You want to interfere with me. So tell me something. According to the Theomach, if he hadn’t disrupted Roger’s plans to destroy the Arch, you would have intervened. Is that true?”

And I just love Infelice’s answer here…

It is. Much of the Depiser’s evil does not concern us. His ends are an abomination, but often his means are too paltry to merit our notice. When he strives to unmake Time, however, our existence is imperiled. This alone we share with the Insequent. We do not desire the destruction of the Earth.”

Strives to unmake Time! At this point, I begin to understand the absolute severity of what Linden wants to do. And I begin to realize what exactly the consequences could be.

And so, when Linden asks Infelice exactly what the “shadow” on the heart of the Elohim, I was not at all surprised by this response…

”For a time which you would measure in eons, it remained nameless among us. Later, we considered that perhaps it was cast by the Depiser’s malevolence. But then we grew to understand that it was the threat of beings from beyond Time, beings such as yourself and also the Timewarden—beings both small and mortal who are nonetheless capable of utter devastation.

“By his own deeds, the Depiser cannot destroy the Arch of Time. He requires the connivance of such men and women as the Timewarden’s son and mate. He requires your aid, Wildwielder, and that of the man who was once the Unbeliever.”

Linden winced; but she did not relent. “Is that why you wanted me to have Covenant’s ring? Is that how you justify closing his mind?”

“It is,” assented Infelice. “Had wild magic been yours to wield in the millennia past, you would have posed no hazard to the Arch of Time. The Unbeliever’s white gold would have answered your need. But his right was not yours. Constrained by incomplete mastery, you could not have summoned utter havoc. Yet you were the Sun-Sage, empowered with percipience to wield wild magic precisely. Had you rather than the Unbeliever confronted the Despiser then, his defeat would not have been what it was, both partial and ambiguous. The Earth would have been preserved—and you would not now aim to achieve the ruin for which the Depiser has long hungered.”

And so this way the world ends—

It is possible that your loves will bind your heart to destruction

If you err in this, your losses will be greater than you are able to conceive.

”You Elohim amaze me,” she remarked almost casually. “You always have. After all this time, you still don’t realize that you’re wrong.

I’m not like Covenant, I never was. If he hadn’t beaten Lord Foul, I would have broken.” She lacked his capacity for miracles. “Lord Foul would have won, and none of us would be here to discuss whether Covenant and I did the right thing.”

“No Wildwielder,” insisted Infelice with a flush of heat and pleading. “We are not in error. Your thoughts are inadequate to comprehend ours. It was not for the Despiser’s defeat that we sought to impose the burden of wild magic upon you. Had you indeed ‘broken’ as you believe, both the Land and the Earth would have suffered great harm. That is sooth. But Time would have endured. Deprived of its rightful wielder, white gold is not puissant to destroy the Arch.

“Also there would now exist no Staff of Law. Its benisons are many. Nonetheless it constrains the Timewarden. By wild magic, he came into being—and by your deeds, he was made weak.”

“And we are the Elohim, equal to all things. Across the centuries, we would have healed much. Perhaps the Despiser’s blight upon the Land would have remained, but the Earth we would have preserved and restored.”

With a strange calm exasperation as unexpected and luminous as her passage through Andelain, Linden asked, “Then what was it all for? If you didn’t care about the outcome—or the Land—why did you try so hard to force me to take Covenant’s place?”

Yet, before Infelice could answer, they came to it. A broad Gilden and below it, and shallow vale…

Dancing, the Wraiths moved ahead of her down the gentle slope and spread out to encircle the krill of High Lord Loric, son of Damelon, father of Kevin. There they bobbed and grew brighter, apparently bowing—and feeding, drawing sustenance from the blade’s incandescence.

As Linden, riding Hyn, makes her way down toward the remains of Caer-Caveral, Infelice calls after her…

”It was for this! To avert this present moment.” Dread and supplication squirmed through her voice. “Broken or triumphant in the past, you would not have returned to the Land. You would not now hold white gold and the Staff of Law. Nor would you approach Loric’s krill in Andelain accompanied by Wraiths. You would not be driven by mistaken love to bring about the end of all things!”

Does anyone else think that Infelice is really starting to make sense??

Linden calls Infelice “insane”. At yet, as I read on…

As she nears the krill, Liand, Anele, the Ramen and the Harrow remain mounted at a distance. The Giants appear entranced by the Wraiths and their music. And Infelice floats down near Linden.

”I have heard you, Wildwielder. Have you heard me? We stand now at the last crisis of the Earth. If you do not turn aside, you will be broken indeed. Your remorse will surpass your strength to bear it.”

But Linden does not answer.

”I’m here. It’s time. You know why I’ve come. You know what I have to do.” When Covenant had entered Andelain without her, his Dead had given him gifts to aid his efforts to redeem the Land. Linden, find me. I can’t help you unless you find me. “The Harrow says that this in Banas Nimoram, and you called me here. I can’t save anything”—not Jeremiah, not the Land, not even herself—“without you.”

Around her and the Wraiths, the darkness seemed to hold its breath. The Harrow murmured quiet invocations which meant nothing to her. Infelice fretted as if she were inconsolable. The Swordmainnir shifted restlessly in their trance, and Anele jerked his head from side to side, watchful and frightened, like a man being hunted. The stars grew still in their stately allemande.

So thus, they waited. The wait wasn’t long.

First, Sunder and Hollian come. They do not speak to Linden, they don’t even seem to acknowledge her. Their attention is on their son. They wordlessly beckon to him and Hrama responds, carries Anele over to his Dead. And together, on either side of their son, they leave the vale.

And then, Grimmand Honninscrave comes. And he too, does not speak to Linden. He beckons to the Giants and they follow him from the vale.

Of Linden’s friends, only Stave, Liand and the Ramen remained.

“Do you behold this Wildwielder?” Infelice hissed with the urgency of a serpent. “Do you see? These are your Dead. Their love for you is not forgotten. Yet they shun you. They seek to spare their descendants the peril of your intent. If you will not heed me, heed them!”

The Harrow countered Infelice’s appeal with a jeer, although he kept his distance. “She is Infelice,” he told Linden scornfully, “suzerain among the Elohim, and blind with self-worship. Yet there is insight in her disregard. You also have been made blind, lady.” His disdain became veiled supplication. “There is a Kevin’s Dirt of the soul as there is of the flesh. The Earth would have been better served if you had not cast away the Mahdoubt’s name and use and life.”

Whoa…hello…

Ten Dead come then, a small group of Haruchai lead by Cail, Ceer, and Hargrom. They beckon to Stave and the Masters, but they do not heed the Dead’s call. The spirits beckon again and still Stave and the Masters refuse.

”Stave?” she breathed. “What do they want? What are they saying?”

Stave shook his head. He did not glance away from Cail, Ceer, and Hergrom. “This night hold no enmity,” he said as if to himself. “The Dead neither spurn nor oppose you. Rather they seek to make way. Other spirits inhabit Andelain, specters which may not be denied. While Loric’s krill burns, their might requires compliance. They will come to affirm the necessity of freedom.

“The Insequent and the Elohim honor no power but their own. They remain because they fear for themselves. Yet they dare not contend. If they offer strife, they will be expelled in spite of their theurgies. And they cannot sway you. You hold no love for them. Therefore you cannot be misled.”

The Dead Haruchai turn and go…

Stave frowned. “Be still Chosen,” he said in a constrained hush. “The Dead have no words for your ears. They are forbidden to address you. In this place, your deeds must be your own, unpersuaded for good or ill by the counsel and knowledge of those who have perished. So it has been commanded, and the Dead obey.”

Other spirits inhabit Andelain—

Who but Covenant had the stature to command the Dead?

They answered her question immediately. From all fourr directions, Berek from the West, Damelon from the North, Loric from the South, and from the East…Kevin. And they were prodigious, tall, and they shone brilliantly as if embodied by the light of the krill. They too, did not speak to Linden, but stood just beyond the ring of Wraiths and watched her intently.

And yet, still, Covenant had not come. And Stave tells her she must summon the Law-Breakers…

The Law-Breakers. The Laws of Death and Life. If Covenant could not hear or answer her directly, who else might invoke him from his participation in the Arch of Time? Who except the Law-Breakers, those who by their unique desperation had made possible the triumph of his surrender to Lord Foul?

Linden calls out to Elena and Hile Troy. And they answer, together they come, and with them…

He was Thomas Covenant: he had come to her at last.

And he was more than the Dead, oh, infinitely more: he was a sovereign spirit, suffused with wild magic and Time. In one sense, he was unchanged. Wreathed in argence, he wore the same pierced T-shirt, the same worn jeans and boots, that she remembered. The scar on his forehead was a faint crease of nacre. Even his soul had lost the last two fingers of his right hand. When he met her gaze, he searched her with the same strict and irrefusable compassion which had made her who she was; taught her to love him—and the Land.

But in every other respect, he had gone beyond recognition. He was no more human than the stars: a being of such illimitable loneliness and grandeur that he both defied and deified understanding.

And so, my follow Watchers, we now come to it. Linden’s intent. Sweet mercy…

His eyes bled nacre on her behalf. But he shook his head. Harsh as a blow, he raised his halfhand to cover his mouth.

She understood in spite of her dismay. He, too, accepted the command of silence. No matter how she yearned for his guidance, he would not speak to her. His gaze begged her to make the right choice.

In this place, your deeds must be your won, unpersuaded for good or ill—

With every nerve, Linden ached to hear his voice; his counsel; his love. But the mere fact that he had come told her everything.

trust yourself

Ever since her battle with Roger and the croyel, she had striven toward this moment.

Do something they don’t expect.

Holding the Staff with her left hand, she planted its heel in the grass. With her right, she reached under her shirt and drew out Covenant’s ring. Deliberately she pulled its chain over head. Then she closed the ring in her fist.

Here we go…

With her arms outstretched in welcome or supplication, Linden Avery the Chosen confronted her purpose.

“Wildwielder!” Infelice gasped. “Do not. I implore you!”

Linden did not glance at the Elohim. “Then free my son. Give him back to me.”

Are we not equal to all things?

Infelice made no answer. Instead the Harrow said disdainfully, “They will not. They cannot. They fear your son more than they fear you. Though his worth to the Despiser is beyond measure, his gifts taint the self-contemplation of the Elohim”

--a shadow upon the heart—

Specific constructs attract them. Jeremiah could make a door to lure the Elohim in and never let them out.

Okay, not quite yet. There’s a little matter of the Masters. Seems they pick now to try to stop Linden. But Stave and the Ramen…and the Ranyhyn intervene on her behalf. Was this why they didn’t go with their Dead? Yes.

But Linden moves forward with her purpose…She begins by tuning into the krill, by discovering it’s unique power. Then, she turns her health-sense inward, and then she calls to the wild magic and it grew until she held enough power to rive the night; alter the heraldry of the heavens. And when she released it, it became a ceaseless blast of lightening, a bolt which struck and flared and crackled between her right fist and Loric’s gem.

Jeremiah, she thought; an uninterrupted blare of wild magic. I’m coming. The only way I know how.

Her fire became so extreme that she saw everything with her eyes closed: the Humbled and their opponents frozen in shock or chagrin or astonishment; the terror on Infelice’s face, the frightened calculation in the Harrow’s gaze; the scrutiny of the High Lords, solemn and alarmed. She saw Covenant consider her as if he were praying.

She had gone beyond fear—beyond the very concept of fear—as she reached out for the blessed yellow flame of her Staff.

At once, Earthpower and Law responded as though they had come to efface every darkness from the Hills of Andelain. Strength as blissful as sunshine, as natural as Gilden, and as capable as a furnace erupted from the Staff, pouring like the incarnation of her will into the heart of Loric’s krill

Now instinctively she understood the runes with which Caerriol Wildwood had elaborated her Staff. They were for this. The Forestal of Garroting Deep had engraved the ebony wood with his knowledge of Life and Death. Indirectly he had given her a supernal relationship with Law. For a moment, at least, his gift enabled her to commingle wild mage and Earthpower without losing control of one or falsifying the other.

Oh sweet, sweet mercy…

Now, she said in fire and passion. Now, Covenant, I need you. I need your help. I need you back.

She had demonstrated again and again that she could not save Jeremiah alone. Without Covenant, she was inadequate to the task.

Gazing steadily through her eyelids at the Land’s redeemer, she murmured his name in an exultation of fires. The she brought her hands together, wild magic and Earthpower.

A blast that seemed to quell the stars erupted from Loric’s krill. Deliberately she invoked a concussion which compelled conflicting energies to become one.

This was not culmination. It was apotheosis. Power shocked the bedrock of the world: it strove to claim the sky. Convulsions like the earthquake under Melenkurion Skyweir cast reality into madness.

Around the vale, the Wraiths scattered suddenly; fled and winked out. They may have been screaming. Someone wailed or roared: Elena or Kevin, Infelice or the Harrow. Emotions trumpeted from the High Lords. But Linden heeded nothing except Covenant and her own purpose.

Through the gem, her powers took hold of him as if she had chosen to incinerate his soul.

An instant later, the sheer scale of the forces which she had unleashed overwhelmed her; and the world was swept away.

Covenant’s agony must have been terrible to behold. His cry of protest may have deafened the night. But Linden was no longer able to see or hear him. Absolute vastness stunned every nerve in her body, every impulse in her mind. For a moment, her detonation left her entirely insensate, unable to feel or think or move. She did not know that she had dropped Covenant’s ring as if it had scalded her. Her fingers were too numb to realize that the Staff had slipped from her grasp. Her eyes might as well have been charred away; she did not see the krill’s coruscating puissance rupture and vanish, blown apart by fundamental contradictions.

She did not recognize what she had done until darkness reasserted her mortality, and the frantic labor of her pulse began to force new awareness into her muscles and nerves.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Covenant’s resurrected form standing, twisted with pain, on the far side of the blank gem, the dead stump. Theurgies flared and spat from his arms, his shoulders, his chest. Linden had burned him as badly as Lord Foul had burned him in Kiril Threndor. But she had burned him to life instead of death.

The fading energies of his transformation wracked him as though he had emerged from a bonfire.

He took one step toward her, then another, before his legs failed and he plunged to his knees. Still upright, he gazed at her with such dismay that her throat closed. She could not breathe.

“Oh Linden.” His first words to her were a hoarse gasp. “What have you done!”

“Done, Timewarden?” Infelice snapped viciously. “Done? She has roused the Worm of the World’s End. Such magicks must be answered. Because of her madenss and folly, every Elohim will be devoured.”

Abruptly the krill’s gem began to shine again. Its light throbbed like a heart in ecstasy, as if it echoed Joan’s distant excitement—or Lord Foul’s

Hyn’s dolorous whickering reminded Linden that the Ranyhyn had tried to warn her.

What becomes now of the Arch of Time? Without the Timewarden, it is surely weakened. The implications of this act will ripple and form tidal waves, how many times can fundamental Laws be broken before they completely shatter? The Last Dark looms ever closer now.

Oh Linden, what have you done!

And I know, somewhere, Foul is laughing.

Excellent dissection, Furlsy, as always.

Thank you, Furls. That was magnificent!

I aim to please

Hey Don, might as well put me down for the last chapter of Shall Pass Utterly...er...I mean Against All Things Ending.

I just love doing the last chapters

Furls Fire wrote: I just love doing the last chapters

You're really good at them.

Wow. I just finished rereading this chapter. It was much more powerful, much more poignant, than it was the first time. Poor Anele! Furls Fire, your launch of this dissection struck the right chords. Sweet Mercy, indeed.

I want to talk about the Harrow.

Earlier, in Old Conflicts, I speculated that the Harrow might believe that he's saving the world by opposing Linden. In this chapter, I see a lot of things that seem to confirm this.

First of all, we have the curious fact that the Wraiths have let him into Andelain. This may merely be that he, having given his promise, is not a threat to Linden. Or it may be that he is, despite his demeanor, on the right side.

We know Esmer opposes him, Kastenessen opposes him, and by extension Foul opposes him. Infelice opposes him. The enemy of my enemies rule seems to place the Harrow squarely on Linden's side.

Esmer, Kastenessen, Roger, and Infelice have all discouraged Linden from going to Andelain. Only the Harrow has not. Despite knowing that she was going there. (He was waiting along her path when that ceasure was sent at him.)

And then there is this curious statement.

"Then what about Longwrath?" Linden insisted, aiming her questions at the Harrow in spite of his inattention. "Is he possessed?" She did not think so. If a Raver - or some similar entity - ruled him, she would have sensed its presence. But she wanted to be sure. "Did the Wraiths stop him just because he's trying to kill me?"

The Insequent faced her. "I would do so in their place." His tone continued to jeer at her, but his manner implied boredom or distraction. "Have I not said that your might becomes you? Others may desire your death. I do not."

First, the Harrow admits that he does not desire Linden's death. (Her ring and her Staff, but not her death.) More, he declares that he would have protected her from Longwrath if the Wraiths had not.

Who is this guy?!?!

And then there is the matter of Anele mentioning Covenant's redemption by Morinmoss, once long ago. Linden intuitively connects this to the Harrow's presence -- the author wants us to connect this to the Harrow's presence.

Urgently he hissed. "Only rock and wood know the truth of the Earth. The truth of life. But wood is too brief. Morinmoss redeemed the covenant, the white gold wielder."

But what is the connection?

The best idea that I have is this: When Covenant was saved by the Forest, it was because the Forest chose to act. To act for Covenant, despite the significant chance that Covenant would damn the world rather than save it. The Forest, like Mhoram, like Foamfollower .... hoped. It hoped that Covenant would save, and so it acted to help him towards that end.

When the Wraiths and Andelain admit the Harrow, they are again acting. Are they acting on their hope? Are they acting on the chance that the Harrow will have a positive affect on the doom of the Earth?

Sadly, that is not all Anele said. After mentioning the redemption of Covenant by the Forestal, he goes on to say:

"Now those days are lost. All vastness is forgotten. Unsustained, wood cannot remember the lore of the Colossus, the necessary forbidding of evils -" ... "Without forbidding, there is too little time."

One last note about the Harrow. Infelice refers to his motivation as "gluttony". Another reference to the Harrow consuming, which was a theme brought up in Old Conflicts.

Now I want to talk about Infelice.

I love the way she floats high in the air, so that she can look down on everyone. That is so in-character.

Infelice speaks very ambiguously about the Guardian of the One Tree, which the Harrow mockingly points out. Clearly they both know that something significant and relevant happened there, something that bears on Linden's challenges, but of course neither of them is telling.

Much which now threatens the Earth would not have occurred. Hiding truths with truths. Is he speaking of the events that allowed the new Staff to be created, which she later says curtails the Time Warden? Is this a reference to allowing Brinn to defeat the Guardian and become the new Guardian? Could it be a reference to Covenant breaking the laws of summoning to push Linden back into the real world for that moment?

Later, when the dead hosts are taking away Linden's friends, Infelice says that they are doing so to protect the ones they love from peril. A lie! How can moving out of a glade protect them from the End of the Earth?!?!?!

.... unless she meant something completely different than what we think she meant. Maybe the loved ones aren't whom they took away. Maybe it is those that they left behind.

And now on to Linden.

This is the culmination of the crisis of Linden. Is she doing right? Or wrong?

Everything else aside, the Wraiths are there. On Banas Nimoran. Lighting the way to the krill.

Donaldson once said, "Nonetheless the characters do have access to what might be considered absolute truths. Earthpower is one. Law is another."

I am going to let the Wraiths be my guide to the truth here; they are Earthpower, they are Law.

I trust the Land, the very Land itself, and the Land says that Linden is doing the right thing.

The title of this chapter is, after all "Trust Yourself". What Covenant once told her, long ago when the Final Chronicles began.

Do people see Foul's snares? Of course they do. But you have to enter them to comprehend them and escape them.

There is more in Andelain - and among the Dead - and in your heart - than Lord Foul can conceive.

Notice the condition of the Lawbreakers. Elena made a mistake when she broke the Law of Death, and now is disfigured by remorse and regret. Troy, however, broke the Law of Life in a calculated risk to save the Earth, and he is comparatively hale, but lined by the committment he has made.

Was the krill destroyed by Linden's magick?

She did not see the knife's coruscating puissance rupture and vanish, blown apart by fundamental contradictions. ... When she opened her eyes, she saw Covenant's resurrected form standing, twisted with pain, on the far side of the blank gem, the dead stump.

Later, the krill's gem began to shine again. But it is unclear if it is everything that it always was.

One other thing to say about Linden.

She did not hear herself cry out Covenant's name, or feel the stone of her heart torn asunder.

Linden's stone heart, her walled up emotions and her granite armour, the ones she has worn since Skyweir, is gone.

And that, I think, is a good thing.

But now she will be buffetted by the impact of what she has done.

Double-posting to add:

A few months ago, I dug up an album I haven't heard in over twenty years. When this song came on, I was immediately struck by how well it seemed to fit with this chapter. So I'll share it.

All through the winter I thought I'd never see you again.
Oh God where were you when I needed you?
I know that you, no, you would never have betrayed me.
I thought I'd die. Why? All the reasons still evade me.

But you're back!

Now I can see you
Now I can feel you
Now that I want you
Now I can touch you
Next to me

Here it comes

Here comes the feeling
Here comes that same old feeling
Here comes the feeling
Here comes that same old feeling

This is for real. I never felt so good before.
I see the world through different eyes.
Now that youre back, nothing in the least can overcome me.
Misery gone, plus all the doubt that overran me.

But you're back!

Now I can see you
Now I can feel you
Now that I want you
Now I can touch you
Next to me

Here it comes

Here comes the feeling
Here comes that same old feeling
Here comes the feeling
Here comes that same old feeling

Furls Fall... your dissection was magnificent!!! My feelings towards Wayfriends comments....(that I much appreciated and respect)...To quote one Han Solo... I got a BAD feeling about this... I feel that something is going to happen to linden in the aftermath of this ressurrection. Maybe a coma type thing or something awful. To me , and I m greatly paraphrasing here, a person cannot hope to use wild magic and the staff of Law and not have something happen to them. Also, in WGW,Covenant told her that he did not want to be ressurrected. Another thing... Longwraths sword...my instincts tell me that it ll be used again for a purpose towards the now -living -in-the-Land Sandgorgans... enuff for now thanks

Well, of course you have a bad feeling about this!

The last four paragraphs of the story were designed to make you feel that way, weren't they?

“Oh Linden.” His first words to her were a hoarse gasp. “What have you done!”

“Done, Timewarden?” Infelice snapped viciously. “Done? She has roused the Worm of the World’s End. Such magicks must be answered. Because of her madenss and folly, every Elohim will be devoured.”

Abruptly the krill’s gem began to shine again. Its light throbbed like a heart in ecstasy, as if it echoed Joan’s distant excitement—or Lord Foul’s.

Hyn’s dolorous whickering reminded Linden that the Ranyhyn had tried to warn her.

But I say, if Donaldson can end Runes with good news that turns out bad, he can surely end Revenant with bad news that turns out good.

"Then are you so surprised to learn that I have been thinking about hope?"

There's a considerable list of things that give us hope.

• Caerroil Wildwood, and his acolyte Caer-Caveral, seemed to have lent their considerable efforts into making this possible.
• Hollian knows that Linden's course is dangerous, but trusts that "there is more" to things "than Lord Foul can concieve".
• Felice's outburst hints that Linden's magick can be answered.
• The wraiths are protecting Linden and preventing Longwrath.

What else?

Not to mention, as far as I can tell, the Elohim have been wrong and/or failed in every belief/action they've ever taken. I, for one, hope every one of them IS devoured [hope the Worm has some Pepto, though...talk about an upset stomach]

"... I can't believe I ate the whoooooole Würd."

A little of my beer exited my nose when I read that WF

I AGREE Vraith...I intensely dislike the Elohim...they are like my inlaws ,but the inlaws do not disappear,and they never keep APPOINTMENTS, and WF, thank you for your insights

Thanks for a wonderful summary, Furls! Made for some fine midnight reading.

wayfriend wrote: There's a considerable list of things that give us hope.

• Caerroil Wildwood, and his acolyte Caer-Caveral, seemed to have lent their considerable efforts into making this possible.
• Hollian knows that Linden's course is dangerous, but trusts that "there is more" to things "than Lord Foul can concieve".
• Felice's outburst hints that Linden's magick can be answered.
• The wraiths are protecting Linden and preventing Longwrath.

What else?

What about this description of the appearance of Loric?

He was gaunt with striving and mastered anguish, and the dark pits of his eyes held the intimate ache of despair. Yet he gazed upon the krill, his handiwork, with an air of profound vindication. When he looked at Linden, he nodded in approval, as if he were certain of her.

That gave me great hope that Linden was "doing the right thing." Loric is so cool and badass. He nods to Linden in approval. That's like: "Linden, you got the Staff, you got the ring, you got the krill. It's all good. Go to town, baby."

And ultimately, she did trust herself. As surely as Covenant trusted himself in his decision to give the ring to Foul in WGW.

However, I won't deny there is a certain creepiness to Covenant's resurrection - the anguished quality of it. Is he now some weird alloy of wild magic and Earthpower or what? Does that even make sense? How does returning TC to "human" form make him more effective against Foul and, um, everyone else? Since Linden "made" him with her power, what might that imply for his own freedom? Is he now just a tool of Linden's?

This ending to FR rocked my world, with such colossal forces on display. I wonder and shiver (in a good way) how even more cosmic and crazy things may get in the next book...

I must say Furls that was a great read and dissection , hats off to you on a job well done

Yeah, Matrixman...I always wanted to know the story of Loric more than anyone else [I seriously doubt we'll ever get it]...but I just had the impression of serious bad-ass, the coolest name and nickname/title...that passage you quoted just made me want it more. And the krill he made...I wonder if it's going to end up being even more important...after all, one of the greatest of the Lords ever looks at the Staff of Law one day and says..."you know what? this just isn't enough!..gotta be a reason for that. It's obviously "apt" for power...but what else can it do?

Oh, there's reason to hope we'll meet Loric!

It looks to me like we're going into the Lost Deep before the end. The lair of the Demondim and their Spawn. Linden has the krill, but she doesn't have the lore necessary to weild it against those guys. She needs what Loric knows, I think.

Speaking of Demondim, I am DYING to hear them talk to somebody...ANYBODY in the next book.Imagine what goodies we,ll get to know if a conversation between the waynhim and ur-viles happens and we can understand them.

As I was re-reading this, it occurs to me that the Elohim (assuming they are telling the truth and thats not always so) have finally shown that Mhoram was correct. Thomas Covenant is (was) the White Gold. Even though others can use it, they dont have the 'might' that TC was capable of.

“It is,” assented Infelice. “Had wild magic been yours to wield in the millennia past, you would have posed no hazard to the Arch of Time. The Unbeliever’s white gold would have answered your need. But his right was not yours. Constrained by incomplete mastery, you could not have summoned utter havoc.

But this last statement is laced with 'incomplete truths'.

It was not for the Despiser’s defeat that we sought to impose the burden of wild magic upon you. Had you indeed ‘broken’ as you believe, both the Land and the Earth would have suffered great harm. That is sooth. But Time would have endured. Deprived of its rightful wielder, white gold is not puissant to destroy the Arch.

“Also there would now exist no Staff of Law. Its benisons are many. Nonetheless it constrains the Timewarden. By wild magic, he came into being—and by your deeds, he was made weak.”

“And we are the Elohim, equal to all things. Across the centuries, we would have healed much. Perhaps the Despiser’s blight upon the Land would have remained, but the Earth we would have preserved and restored.”

With a strange calm exasperation as unexpected and luminous as her passage through Andelain, Linden asked, “Then what was it all for? If you didn’t care about the outcome—or the Land—why did you try so hard to force me to take Covenant’s place?”

I think Linden is right here. If they didnt want things to turn out the way it did, then why did they help in the way they did. If they didnt want a 'staff of law' then why would they appoint Findail? If they wanted the despiser to continue to do what he was doing and not hazard time, then why did the elohim help them at all. They could easily have trapped them. No, Lindens not buying and Im not either.

Agreed, I don't believe a thing the Elohim say, there's something big hiding in their closet...(Thank you Furls, btw...)