Kevin's Watch

"But the power over death is a delusion. There cannot be life without death." -Saltheart Foamfollower

Then the patient moved his lips to speak, and Covenant looked up at his face. His dull, cataractal eyes sat in his face as if they were the center of an eruption. The skin of his cheeks was as white-pink as an albino's; it bulged and poured away from his eyes in waves, runnulets, as if it had been heated to the melting point; and these waves were edged with thick tubercular nodules.

"Kill yourself," he rasped terribly. "Better than this."

Covenant broke away from the doctor. He rushed out into the hall and the contents of his stomach spattered over the clean walls and floor like a stain of outrage.

In that way, he decided to survive.

He gaped wide -- eyed at his own narration. He would have been willing, eager, to weep for the man if he had been able to do so without sacrificing his own defenses. But he could not weep. Instead, he swallowed thickly, and let his momentum carry him on again.

"And I'll tell you something else about culture shock. Every world has its own ways of committing suicide, and it is a lot easier to kill yourself using methods that you're not accustomed to. I could never slit my wrists. I've read too much about it -- talked about it too much. It's too vivid. I would throw up. But I could go to that man's world and sip belladonna tea without nausea. Because I don't know enough about it. There's something vague about it, something obscure -- something not quite fatal.

That smile touched Covenant's heart like a clasp of affection. Thickly, he replied, "Next time take it easier. I can't stand -- watching -- Do you always keep promises -- this way?"

"Your messages are urgent. How could I do otherwise?"

From his leper's perspective, Covenant countered, "Nothing's that urgent. What good does anything do you if you kill yourself in the process?"

For a moment, Foamfollower did not respond. He braced a heavy hand on Covenant's shoulder, and heaved himself, tottering, to his feet. Then he said as if he were answering Covenant's question, "Come. We must see Revelstone."

Troy took a deep breath, trying to shake off the effect of Covenant's tale, but he could think of nothing to say. When he looked over at Elena, he saw that she was melding with Mhoram and Amatin as if she needed their support to bear what she had heard. After a moment, Mhoram said aloud, "Ur-Lord Covenant is a prophet."

"Does he foretell the fate of the Land?" Amatin asked painfully.

"No!" Elena's denial was fierce, and Mhoram breathed also, "No" But Troy could hear that Mhoram meant something different.

Fist and Faith wrote:Thanks, Furls. I loaned LFB to my gf, so I couldn't look anything up.