Part 63 (1/2)

Rain! Water-It was a weapon. Wind and thunder and lightning meant nothing: those elemental forces could not deter the skurj. But rain-!

As soon as she understood what Liand was doing, Linden knew that he would fail. He had already surpa.s.sed all of his limits-and his Sunstone had not shattered. But no mere shower would cool or daunt the terrible fires of the skurj. He had achieved more than she could have imagined. Nevertheless he simply did not have enough power The Staff did not belong to him. It was hers: she had made it. Caerroil Wildwood had incised it with unfathomable implications, and had returned it to her.

”Liand!” she yelled as she scrambled over the rocks toward him. ”That's brilliant! You're brilliant!

”Give me the Staff!

Esmer made a sound like keening or exultation; but he did not leave the mound.

She feared that Liand would not hear her. He had immersed himself utterly in his efforts; in his orcrest and her Staff and the loremaster's blood. He may have gone beyond hearing.

But as she neared him, he unfolded his elbow to release the Staff.

Suddenly one of the monsters toppled, yowling, as if its serpentlike body had been cut in half. With a rage as loud as the ma.s.sed thunder, Longwrath climbed onto the crest.

Anointed and annealed by the gore of the creature that he had slain, his flamberge steamed in the gathering fall of rain.

Without hesitation, he sprang at Linden. His great size and strength carried him toward her in three strides.

His sword wheeled to send her head spinning far from the tor.

In the same instant, Stave hurled a large rock that struck the side of Longwrath's head. The impact staggered the mad Swordmain. He missed his footing; fell involuntarily to one knee with the tip of his blade inches from Linden's face.

Desperately Grueburn and Coldspray converged on Longwrath. Grueburn grappled for his sword-arm while Coldspray kicked him in the jaw.

Linden heard a snapping sound that may have been Longwrath's neck; but she did not falter. She was already shouting, ”Melenkurion abatha!” as she s.n.a.t.c.hed the Staff from Liand. ”Duroc minas mill!” At once, Earthpower and Law poured through her as though she had uncapped a geyser. ”Harad khabaal!”

With every ounce of her pa.s.sion and purpose, she reached for Liand's storm. Wielding her fire like a scourge, she flailed at the rain until it become torrential.

Between heartbeats, she transformed Liand's showers. At once, they became a downpour so heavy that she seemed to have torn open an ocean in the sky. Water pounded the stones with such force that it nearly knocked her from her feet. Everything around her was inundated, hammered, bludgeoned, as if she stood directly under the cascade of the Mithil's Plunge.

Now there was no light at all apart from the fire of the Staff and the laval gaping of the monsters' fangs. Liand had collapsed. The loremaster held him while a Waynhim retrieved his quenched orcrest and returned it to its pouch at his waist.

Linden could no longer hear thunder: the torrent was louder. Rain swept the voices of her companions away. Only the furious consternation of the skurj pierced the downpour. They were creatures of magma and fire, stone and earth. They would not have survived if they had been dropped into the Sunbirth Sea. The whipped weight and ferocity of Linden's rainstorm did not kill them. But it erupted into steam in their mouths. Crimson fume burst from their teeth. Explosive gouts of superheated vapor tore at their fangs, their flesh, while their necessary heat cooled. When they swallowed, they swallowed water as if it were poison.

The sheer ma.s.s of the rain forced them to close their jaws. Then it drove them to eat their way into the ground, seeking an escape from the pummeling torrents.

Linden's fire was all that remained to light her companions.

She could not blink fast enough to keep her vision clear. She could scarcely hold up her head. Through a cataclysm of water, she barely saw two of Longwrath's guards clamber onto the crest. She heard nothing while the Giants yelled at each other, making swift decisions. She was focused heart and soul on the Staff and the storm. If Esmer remained or vanished, she did not notice it. She was only distantly aware that the Waynhim and ur-viles had scattered. She had no attention left for anything except rain.

If she could sustain this downpour- Without disturbing Linden's concentration, Grueburn lifted her from her feet. Stonemage cradled Liand like a sleeping child. Galesend carried Anele while Cabledarm bore Pahni. Still gripping the stump of her lost arm, Kindwind squatted so that Mahrtiir could climb her back, cling to her shoulders. One of Longwrath's guards took Bhapa. The other and Coldspray supported Longwrath between them.

Leaving one Giant dead on the peak and another presumably lost to Longwrath's madness, the Swordmainnir and the Haruchai descended the for in a perilous rush and ran south.

The Essence of the Land When the company had pa.s.sed out from under the downpour into the ambiguous shelter of the trees, the Giants paused-briefly, briefly-so that Linden could s.h.i.+ft her attention to healing.

Kindwind's arm was the most urgent of their wounds, but their hurts were many. Galesend had been nearly hamstrung by raking fangs. Coldspray, Cabledarm, and Stonemage bled from gashes like latticework on their arms and legs. And one of Longwrath's guards wore fractured bones in her cheek: he must have struck her when he broke free to pursue Linden. Only Grueburn and the Swordmain who aided Coldspray with Longwrath's unconscious bulk had avoided serious harm.

In addition, the Humbled, the Ramen, Stave, Liand, and Anele had all been burned by splashes of gore. Among Linden's original companions, she alone had escaped any physical hurt. Her injuries were more spiritual, and she had borne them longer.

As soon as the Giants stopped, she withdrew her scourge of Earthpower from the thunderheads. Gritting her teeth against her fear of the skurj, she transformed her fire to more gentle flames and spread them over her friends. Rapidly she sealed Kindwind's severed arm; stopped the bleeding of the Giants; sent a quick wash of Law and balm to soothe the Ramen, Liand, and Stave. But she did not offend the Humbled by offering to ease them. And she did not risk triggering Anele's self-imposed defenses. She already knew how fiercely he would fight against healing and sanity.

Then the company ran again, dragging Longwrath with them. None of them knew when the skurj would attack again, and Liand's storm clouds were beginning to scatter.

Grueburn's arms seemed as certain as the Earth's bones. The senses of the Haruchai were preternaturally acute, and the Giants could see far. Surely they would know it when Kastenessen rallied his monsters?

The skurj had vindicated Linden's visions during her translation to the Land. If Lord Foul kept his promises, she would eventually have to face the Worm of the World's End.

Nevertheless her efforts with the Staff had drained her. Fatigue blurred her attention for a time. Like the torrents which she had left behind, she frayed and drifted until only Jeremiah remained. Her son and Covenant.

Within the Andelainian Hills, Loric's krill summoned her like a beacon.

Esmer had not rescued her or her companions. But the lodestone of his presence had drawn the Demondim sp.a.w.n. And he had answered some of her questions.

Aid and betrayal.

Her foes were right to fear her.

Slowly Liand regained consciousness, although he rested with his eyes closed in Stonemage's embrace. The Humbled had already scattered to search for signs of pursuit behind or snares ahead. Mahrtiir watched over the company fervidly without his eyes. Alert for threats, Stave sped a few paces ahead of Grueburn.

Later the sound of Grueburn's stertorous breathing began to trouble Linden. The Giants had been under too much strain for too long. Their reserves of stamina were wearing thin. And they had lost two of their comrades. They needed to grieve.

But ahead of her, Salva Gildenbourne relapsed to thick jungle. Once again, it became a tangle of thickets, vines, draped ivy, crowding trees, and deadwood monoliths like fallen kings. Without the guidance of the Cords, the Giants could not run unhindered; and they had no time to seek an easy route. They had to brunt their way by plain strength.

The skurj could move faster than this; much faster. The fact that the Humbled detected nothing did not rea.s.sure Linden. It may have meant only that Kastenessen had received new counsel, and had begun to devise a surer a.s.sault. She did not believe that the furious Elohim would cease his efforts to prevent her from reaching Andelain.

The company needed speed, but the Giants were too tired.

Apparently Coldspray shared Linden's concerns. Muttering Giantish obscenities, the Ironhand left her comrade to bear the burden of Longwrath alone. The woman draped his arms over her shoulders so that she could drag him on her back. Meanwhile Coldspray moved ahead of her people and began to hack a pa.s.sage with her glaive. Arduously the Giants improved their pace.

Linden's percipience was focused behind her, northward toward the skurj. Too late to give warning, she felt Longwrath plant his feet and heave against the Giant supporting him. He moved so suddenly that Linden feared he would break the woman's neck.

But the Swordmain must have sensed his intent. She caught his wrists before his hands struck her throat. Holding him, she ducked under his arms and spun in an attempt to wrench him off balance, flip him to the ground.

He countered by kicking her hard enough to loosen her grasp.

The Giants heard that instant of struggle. Bracing themselves to protect their burdens, they turned quickly to face their comrade and Longwrath. Stave sprang to Grueburn's side as Longwrath reached for his flamberge.

But its sheath was empty. His sword had been left behind among the rocks and desperation of the tor.

For a moment, he gaped at Linden, apparently torn between his hunger for her death and his need for his weapon. Then, howling, he wheeled and raced away, back toward the battle-mound.

In the scales of his madness, his flamberge outweighed Linden's blood.

The Giant who had been carrying him started to give chase; but Coldspray called her back. ”Permit him, Latebirth,” the Ironhand commanded sadly. ”You are needed among us. And I deem that he is in no peril. While he covets Linden Giantfriend's death, our foes will not harm him. He will return when he has retrieved his blade.”

Cursing, Latebirth acquiesced. ”The fault of Scend Wavegift's death is mine, Ironhand,” she proclaimed loudly, bitterly. ”Halewhole Bluntfist and I held Longwrath's arms to aid him against the constraint of his shackles. Wavegift followed at his back. But I allowed my concern for your fate to loosen my clasp. When his shackles dropped from him, Bluntfist held him, but my grip was broken. With the hand that I should have restrained, he struck down Bluntfist. I endeavored to grapple with him, but I stumbled, unable to avoid Bluntfist's fall. While I floundered, he confronted Wavegift.