"We'll have to give that a try," Covenant concluded in disgust. "He hasn't left us much choice."

With his back to Linden, Jeremiah said, "Then let's go. I think it'll be OK. Sometimes she does exactly the right thing without even knowing it."

Taking her torn heart with him, he led Covenant toward the slopes at the southern edge of the valley.

Eventually Covenant moved into the lead. Jeremiah followed in his footprints while the Theomach remained off to one side, accompanying himself obscurely over the brittle surface. Linden lagged behind Covenant and Jeremiah; used the path that they had trampled to make her own pa.s.sage somewhat easier.

Sometimes she does exactly the right thing*Her son had given her that, although he obviously preferred Covenant's company in spite of her dedication and love.-without even knowing it. He may have been referring to the raceway construct which she had enabled him to build. To that extent, at least, he acknowledged her importance in his life. Yet even that oblique validation carried a message of pain.

By buying the tracks and pylons for Jeremiah's raceway, she had in some sense freed him; or had given him the means to free himself. She had made possible an escape from blankness into the wealth and wonder of the Land. And in so doing, she had lost him to Covenant. But that, she insisted to herself, was not the crucial point. The crux of what she had inadvertently achieved was this: she had supplied her son with an alternative to ordinary consciousness, ordinary responses and emotions; ordinary life. She had made it easier for him to escape than to strive for a more difficult and precious form of recovery.

It was conceivable that Linden had failed her son as entirely-and as unintentionally-as she had failed Joan.

Arguing with herself as she plodded ahead, Linden countered, Yes, that was conceivable. But it was also conceivable that Jeremiah would not have been capable of his present sentience, or his disturbing loyalties, if he had not been granted an escape from his mental prison. His mind might have died, utterly alone inside his skull, if he had not found his way to the Land.

The simple fact was that Linden was too human to know the truth. She could not a.s.sign responsibility, blame, or vindication because she was inadequate to gauge the condition of Jeremiah's soul. He was closed to her. He had always been closed.

In the years since she had traveled and suffered and loved with Thomas Covenant, she had endeavored to become content with her inadequacy. She would have admitted with unruffled confidence that she healed none of her patients. Instead, at her best, she merely encouraged them to heal themselves. But now, in the Land, she was less able to accept her limitations.

There was too much at stake She understood almost nothing that had happened since Covenant and Jeremiah had ridden into Lord's Keep. And she had no reason at all to believe that she was strong enough for what lay ahead of her. But she told herself that such things were trivial. The only inadequacy that truly mattered was her inability to gauge the health or illness of Jeremiah's restored mind.

How could she make choices, or defend what she loved, when she did not know whether or not he still needed her?

The ascent to Covenant's destination was as difficult as she had feared it would be. Although the snow on the northward slope had seen less sunlight and formed less ice, it was also deeper. The hillside itself was hazardously steep. And the eldritch heat which Covenant had given her faded ineluctably, leaving her with nothing except her clothes and her exertions to ward off the cold.

Nevertheless she struggled upward. And when she finally gained the hilltop, stood panting in the comfortless sunshine of early afternoon, her doubts and confusion had settled into a grim determination. The Theomach had told Covenant that he must allow her to make her own decisions. She meant to do so. She had never used her inadequacy as an excuse, and did not intend to start now.

While Jeremiah shuffled his feet, Covenant scowled into the distance, and the Theomach hummed tunelessly to himself, Linden scanned her surroundings. Here the glare from the snow was less severe. In this cold, any wind would have cut at her eyes; but the air was almost entirely still. She was able to look around without the blur of tears or the danger of snow blindness.

Covenant had chosen an effective vantage point. On all sides, the unimpeded sunshine etched the shapes and edges of the terrain in sharp detail. From this crest, she saw that the hills which bordered both sides of the valley stood in rough rows that gradually lost height from west to east. And they were only two rows among many: a range of rugged slopes and crooked valleys extended farther than she could see into the northwest as well as toward the southeast. The entire landscape was tossed and crumpled, like a discarded blanket. As it tended eastward, it smoothed out in small increments.

If these were the foothills of mountains in the west, those peaks were too distant to be seen. But as she scanned the vistas, she found that their contours allowed her to see farther into the southwest as well as the southeast. In that direction also, the hilltops sank slowly lower. And beyond their ridges- She blinked hard in an effort to clear the ache of brightness from her sight. There was something-For a moment, she closed her eyes; rested them. Then she looked again.

Now she was sure that she could see trees. At the limits of vision, deciduous trees clung to each other with their stark and naked limbs. And among them a few tall evergreens-cedars, perhaps, or redwoods-stood like sentinels, keeping watch over their winter-stricken kindred. At this distance, she could see only a sliver of woodland past the obstruction of the hills. But percipience or intuition told her that she was squinting at a forest.

We're too far from her time. Under the Sunbane, the last vestiges of the ancient woods west of Landsdrop had been utterly destroyed. Yet she remained in the Land: she was sure of that. And there were forests-?

She wanted to demand, Covenant, d.a.m.n you, what have you done? But determination had settled into her like the cold, and it brought with it a kind of calm. She was frightened enough for rage; could have slipped easily into fury. Nevertheless she refused to be swayed by her emotions. Until she learned the truth about her son, she intended to hold herself in check. She would do anything and everything that fear or imagination suggested; but she would do it coldly. And she would think about it first.

Like paralysis, panic served the Despiser.

"All right, Covenant," she said when she was ready; when she could bear Jeremiah's reluctance to look at her. "You promised me an explanation. It's time."

"Well, time," he replied. His voice was a harsh rasp. "That's the problem, isn't it. It's all about time. Even distance is just a matter of time."

Then he sighed. Gesturing around him, he began. "We're a little less than two hundred leagues from Revelstone. These are the Last Hills, the last barrier. Where we are now, they separate the Center Plains from Garroting Deep."

Two hundred leagues? Linden thought; but she was not truly surprised. The suddenness of her transition to this place had prepared her for imponderable dislocations.

"That piece of forest," Covenant continued, "is Garroting Deep. Eventually it'll be considered the most dangerous of the old forests. Of course," he added, "they're all places you don't want to go. In this time, anyway. Morinmoss, Grimmerdh.o.r.e, h.e.l.l, even Giant Woods-they're all protected by Forestals."

Now she was taken aback, although she tried not to show it. If Forestals still defended the trees, she was deep in the Land's past; deeper than she had dared to imagine. During the time of the Sunbane, Caer-Caveral had preserved Andelain; but he had been the last of his kind. According to the tales which Covenant had told her long ago, most of the Forestals had disappeared before his first experiences in the Land. If that were true- Oh, G.o.d.

-she was now more than seven thousand years before her proper time.

However, Covenant had not stopped speaking. She fought down her chagrin in order to concentrate on him.

But Garroting Deep is the worst," he was saying sourly. "Giant Woods is practically benign, probably because Foul and the Ravers spend most of their time south of the Sarangrave. Sometimes you can get through Morinmoss. On a good day, you can survive in Grimmerdh.o.r.e for a few hours. But Caerroil Wildwood is an out-and-out butcher. He pretty much slaughters anything that doesn't have fur or feathers."

While Linden stared at the distant trees in wonder and dismay, the Theomach put in casually, "Perhaps it would profit her to know why the Forestal of Garroting Deep has grown so savage."

His manner seemed to imply an oblique warning.

"There are a lot of reasons." Covenant's tone was leaden with sarcasm. "The Colossus of the Fall is losing its power. Too many trees are being butchered. There are too many people, and they're too greedy. All the Forestals are getting weaker.

"But Caerroil Wildwood has lost more than the other Forestals. And he knows more about Ravers. You can't see it from here, of course, but Doriendor Corishev is practically on Wildwood's doorstep. It's only sixty leagues from Cravenhaw. And Cravenhaw and Doom's Retreat are the only gaps into the Land from Doriendor Corishev.

"A long time ago, when the southern kingdoms spread north toward the Land-even before the kings set up their capital in Doriendor Corishev, and samadhi Sheol got involved-they hacked down a lot of trees. A h.e.l.l of a lot of trees. Which ruined the watershed. And ruining the watershed dried out the southlands. The old domain of the kings was becoming the Southron Waste. So they kept pushing north. Naturally they liked conquest. But they also needed arable land."

Jeremiah had placed himself so that Linden could not see his tic. He seemed to be keeping an eye on her with his peripheral vision, but he did not look at her directly. Instead he resumed playing with his racecar while Covenant described details that did not interest him-or that he already knew.

"And then samadhi began spreading his poison," Covenant muttered. "In this time, Foul still hasn't shown his face. But a century or two ago, samadhi came west behind the Southron Range. Eventually that brought him to Doriendor Corishev.

"When he got there, he didn't actually possess any of the kings. Not even Berek's King. He didn't want to risk getting too close to Caerroil Wildwood. But he incited-In fact, he did a s.h.i.tload of inciting. He encouraged generations of kings to think all their problems would be solved if they could overrun the Land. Because of him, whole armies tried to slash and burn their way through Cravenhaw.

"That's where Wildwood beat them. The terrain makes a kind of bottleneck. He could concentrate his power there. And he could smell that Raver. He knew who was responsible for slaughtering his trees. On his own ground, with the full force of Garroting Deep behind him, nothing could stand against him. He stopped generations of kings dead in Cravenhaw-and I do mean dead. In effect, he forced them to turn toward Doom's Retreat. If they'd kept on trying to force a pa.s.sage through Cravenhaw, that d.a.m.n Forestal would have left none of them alive.

"By the time they gave up, he'd developed a grudge you wouldn't believe."

The Theomach nodded as if in confirmation.

With less acid in his voice, Covenant explained, "Berek's King is-I mean was-the last of their line. I know some of the old legends say the Land was one big peaceful nation, and Berek's King and Queen were happy, but it wasn't like that. People tell themselves simple stories because they're easier to live with than the truth. In fact, the Land was never a nation, and the southern kings never actually succeeded at overrunning it.

But it wasn't for lack of trying. And Berek's King was the most b.l.o.o.d.y-minded and stubborn of them all. His whole lineage was grasping and brutal, but he was something more. He didn't just take samadhi Sheol's advice. Indirectly that Raver ruled him. And when Berek's Queen decided she didn't like what her husband was doing, samadhis influence turned an ordinary struggle for new territory into an all-out civil war.

"Maybe you noticed the smell of death behind us? About a year and a half ago, one of the worst battles of the whole war was fought in that valley. The ground is so full of blood, even birds don't go there." With dark satisfaction, Covenant stated, "Under all that snow, we were walking across corpses."

The idea made Linden wince inwardly; but she kept her reactions hidden. She could no longer estimate how far into the Land's past she had been brought. Yet Covenant's revelations changed nothing. A valley drenched in bloodshed changed nothing. He still had not told her anything that explained his intentions, or the Theomach's-or her own plight. Holding his gaze, she waited for him to go on.

After a moment, he looked away. With renewed sarcasm, he remarked, "But you haven't noticed what's going on east of us." He waved one hand negligently in that direction. "Or maybe you can't see that far. I'm sure the all-wise and all-knowing Theomach can. In fact, I'm sure that's why he brought us here.

"There's smoke on the horizon. The smoke of battle. Good old Berek is fighting for his life. Has been for the past three days.

"h.e.l.l and blood!" he snapped suddenly. "I wish I didn't have to do this. It's so d.a.m.n gratuitous." Then, however, he made a visible effort to master his ire.

"When the FireLions rescued Berek on Mount Thunder," he said like a shrug, "they won a battle for him. A turning point. But they didn't win the war. The king's supporters took up the fight. And samadhi eggs them on from the safety of Doriendor Corishev, where Caerroil Wildwood can't reach him, and he doesn't have to worry about the Colossus. Berek still has a long way to go.

"Of course, it's just a mopping-up operation. He has power now, power no one has ever seen before. Eventually he'll win this battle. He'll win the war. But he doesn't know that. The people fighting and dying for him-or for the Queen-don't know it. All they know is, they think they've found something they can believe in. Something they consider more precious than new territory and fresh resources and plain greed.

"Berek was alone on Mount Thunder. His army was scattered, effectively crippled. But they weren't all dead. When the FireLions answered him, it was a spectacle you could see for twenty or thirty leagues. Some of his survivors witnessed forces they couldn't even imagine. And since then the rest have seen him do things-To them, he looks like he's more than human. Better. They know about his vow, and they're looking at this war through his eyes.

"That's the real reason they're going to win. Even with Berek's power-which he doesn't understand yet-they don't have superior force. And they sure as h.e.l.l don't have superior numbers." Again Covenant's sarcasm mounted.

"But they believe. They aren't conscripts fighting because they'll be cut down if they don't. They're fighting a d.a.m.n holy war."

Linden listened and said nothing. Moment by moment, she became increasingly certain that Covenant was no longer the man who had changed her life. He had lost some aspect of his humanity in the Arch of Time.

"It'll all be wasted, of course," he a.s.serted trenchantly. "Just about two thousand years from now, poor doomed Kevin is going to join Foul in the Ritual of Desecration, and everything Berek and his true believers are fighting for will fall apart.

"After that, it'll be a downhill battle all the way."

Abruptly Covenant turned on the Theomach. "Which is why I'm so G.o.d d.a.m.n p.i.s.sed off at you! You and your f.u.c.king arrogance. We aren't supposed to be here. We shouldn't have to go through all this. She shouldn't have to go through it.

"And I'm in a hurry. Never mind how hard I have to work just to keep us in one piece, or how long it's going to take. I can handle that. h.e.l.lfire! I'm in a hurry because I'm trying to stop Foul before he finds a way to ma.s.sacre everybody who has ever cared about the Land, or the Earth, or at least bare survival."

Before the Theomach could reply, Linden intervened. She suspected that Covenant's vehemence was a ploy, a diversion; and she had no intention of permitting it to distract her. He still had not come to the point of his explanation.

"Covenant," she asked sharply. "when is this? How far back did you bring us'?"

Jeremiah gave her a quick, troubled glance, then looked away again. After studying his useless toy for a moment, he put it away in the waistband of his ruined pajamas.

With a shrug, Covenant seemed to dismiss his anger. He sounded almost nonchalant as he said. "Ten thousand years. Give or take."

Ten thousand-? Ten thou-?

Still Linden kept her face blank. And if the Theomach hadn't interfered?' she persisted. "If we were where you wanted? When would that be?'

"Five hundred years after all this." He indicated Berek's struggle in the east. "Roughly. I haven't actually counted. It isn't worth the effort."

She stared at him. Her voice rose in spite of her determination to contain herself. "So if we were doing this the way you wanted, we would still be nine and a half thousand years away from where we belong?"

"It isn't just the time, Mom," Jeremiah offered as though he wanted to placate her. "It's the whole situation."

Covenant nodded. "That's right. Time is only part of the problem. We're also not supposed to be here. We're supposed to be over there." He pointed past her thin glimpse of the forest. "On the other side of Garroting Deep. Ninety leagues or so, if we could fly.

"But of course we can't," he said acidly. "And we can't go through the Deep. So we'll have to go around. All the way around. Which is more like two hundred leagues. Up through the Westron Mountains. In the dead of winter. Without food or warm clothes or horses. And we can't take any shortcuts because the b.l.o.o.d.y Theomach won't let us. He's afraid we might change history."

"With good cause," remarked the Theomach ambiguously. "Other puissant beings occupy this age of the Land. And the forces at your command are misplaced here. Any encounter threatens a disturbance of Time which I will be unable to contain. You cannot safely attain your goal except upon the path that I have prepared for you-the path of the lady's choices and desires.

"Even you, Halfhand, with your daring and folly," the man stated, "even you must endeavor to avoid or mislead notice."

"Oh, thanks." Covenant snorted bitterly. "I didn't realize that. I feel so much better now."

"Covenant, stop," Linden put in. "You can complain as much as you want later. You still haven't explained anything. You haven't told me why.

What can you possibly hope to accomplish this far from where we belong? You said that you know how to save the Land." And Jeremiah. "Why do we have to be thousands of years and hundreds of leagues away from where were needed?"

The Unbeliever gave her a look dark with resentment, then turned his head away. "The Theomach is right about one thing," he muttered. "If we can get there, we might still be able to do it."

He sighed heavily. But what I wanted "Ah, h.e.l.l." With an air of disgust, he seemed to concede defeat. "I was aiming for the time of Damelon. High Lord Damelon Giantfriend, Berek's son. I wanted to catch him when he reaches Melenkurion Skyweir. Right before he figures out how to get at what he's looking for.

"I was planning to sneak in behind him.

Before he started thinking of ways to keep people out. Between the two of us, Jeremiah and I can do that, no matter how much lore he has. Then we could just hide until he left. That would leave us free to do whatever we wanted."

With difficulty, Linden swallowed an impulse to yell at him. "I still don't understand," she insisted. "What's so important about Melenkurion Skyweir? What's Damelon looking for? d.a.m.n it, Covenant, you told me that you know what to do, you talk and talk, but you don't explain anything."

Keeping his face turned away, Covenant answered. "The Skyweir is on the other side of Garroting Deep. It's the biggest mountain in the west. Somewhere deep inside it are the springs that form the Black River. That's another reason Caerroil Wildwood is so strong. The Black River feeds him. It carries a lot of power. Because one of its springs is the Blood of the Earth."

While Linden's mind reeled, Covenant drawled over his shoulder, "Drinking the EarthBlood gives the Power of Command. h.e.l.lfire, Linden, I must have told you that."

Then he announced grimly, "I intend to use the Power of Command to stop Foul. I'm going to do what I would have done if you hadn't created that d.a.m.n Staff. I'm going to freeze time around him. And around Kastenessen while I'm at it. Encase them in temporal ice. That way, I can finally put a stop to all these atrocities without risking the Arch."

At last, the cold found its way through Linden's clothes to her heart. You must be the first to drink of the EarthBlood. Esmer had known exactly what Covenant and Jeremiah had in mind.

Taking the Risk The cold seemed to speak directly to Linden: she saw its uncompromising beauty. Certainly it could kill her. It had no pity. And she was not dressed warmly enough to contain her body's inadequate heat. The sensation of fire that Covenant had given to her was slipping away. Already shivers began to rise through her undefended flesh. Soon she would lose control of her limbs; or she would have to implore Covenant to succor her again.

Nevertheless the austerity and precision of the cold gave it a numinous glory. The sunlit crystalline untrammeled brilliance of the snow on all sides defined the contours of the hilltop as distinctly as etch-work in purest gla.s.s. The air itself might have been gla.s.s. Every slope and crest around her seemed to burn as though it were afire with cold. And winds had shaped and sculpted the crust as it melted and refroze repeatedly between day and night. She could see delicate, dazzling whorls everywhere; sastrugi as scalloped and articulate as hieroglyphs or runes; ridges and hollows as suggestive as the elaborate surface of the sea. With every step that she and Covenant and Jeremiah had taken, or would take, they marred instances of the most casual and frangible loveliness.

Covenant had not stopped speaking: he seemed unaware that she heeded a voice other than his. Trenchant with bitterness, he was saying. Of course, the Elohim could have done the same thing, saved us all this trouble, if they weren't so d.a.m.n self-absorbed. And if they didn't object to messing around with time. That was Kastenessen's original crime. They Appointed him to contain the skurj because he shared himself with a mortal lover, gave her some of who he was. He wanted her with him, so he gave her the power to stay young. To defy time. To use magicks like his. So naturally the Elohim took offense."

With her health-sense, Linden felt each probing finger of winter as it found its way through her garments to touch her skin with ice. If she had known how to interpret the speech of wind and weather, she might have been able to name every avatar of the snow and cold: every flake and crystal, every self-sufficient pattern; every broken and unbreakable rumple in the cloak that covered the hillsides. The stark and brittle branches of the distant forest might have spoken to her.

And if you do all that," she asked Covenant as if she were unaware of her own voice. "what happens to Jeremiah? Will he be freed? Will he be safe'?"

Would she be able to find him?

Her son was in more danger than anyone; more peril and more pain. Although he stood at Covenant's side, his tangible body remained at Lord Foul's mercy. Because he was her son, the strange bifurcation of his torment seemed too great to be borne.

Covenant sighed. In a gentler voice, he replied, "Unfortunately, no. Oh, his suffering will end. As soon as I freeze Foul, everything he's doing will stop. But drinking the EarthBlood, using the Power of Command-Unleashing forces on that scale will pretty much overwhelm us. Jeremiah and I will disappear. Well snap back to where we belong." If he felt any grief at the prospect of losing his physical existence-or losing Linden-he did not show it. "He won't hurt anymore, but he'll still be trapped wherever Foul has him. And he won't know any more about where that is than he does now. He'll still need rescuing."

Before Linden could pull her thoughts out of the cold to protest, he added, "That's one of the reasons you're here. In fact, I never even considered doing this without you. After Jeremiah and I vanish, it'll be your turn. Once we're gone, you can drink the EarthBlood yourself. You can Command-" His tone remained gentle. "h.e.l.lfire, Linden, you can Command any d.a.m.n thing you want. All you have to do is want it, and you and your kid will be reunited. In your proper time. Anywhere you choose. If it'll make you happy, you two can live in Andelain together for the rest of your natural lives."

Trembling with relief and cold-with a hope so sudden that it seemed to shake the marrow of her bones-she asked. "Is that true? Is that what you meant? When you said that you can't do this without me?"