Don’t touch him! Don’t touch either of us!
Faced with Esmer’s surprises and obfuscations, she had failed to ask the right questions; to make him tell her why Covenant and her son were so changed. Now she had no choice except to wrest understanding from Covenant himself. Or from Jeremiah. Somehow.
Keep her away from us until I’m ready.
Her heart was full of pain, in spite of Glimmermere’s healing, as she turned at last to ascend the hillside toward Revelstone. How had the man whom she had loved here, in this very place, become a being who could not tolerate the affirmation of Law? And where had Jeremiah obtained the lore, the magic, or the need to reject her yearning embrace?
She did not mean to wait until Covenant decided that he was ready. She had loved him and her son too long and too arduously to be treated as nothing more than a hindrance.
But first she hoped to talk to the Mahdoubt. The older woman had been kind to Linden. She might be willing to say more about her strange insights. In any case, her replies could hardly be less revealing than Esmer’s-
As Linden reached the crest of the hills which cupped and concealed Glimmermere, the southeastward stretch of the upland plateau opened before her. Distraught as she was, she might still have lingered there for a moment to drink in the spring-kissed landscape: the flowing green of the grass, the numinous blue of the jacarandas’ flowers, the yellow splash of blooms among the mimosas. But Manethrall Mahrtiir stood at the foot of slope below her, plainly watching for her return. And in the middle distance, she saw Stave’s solitary figure striding purposefully toward her. Their proximity drew her down the hillside to meet them.
She wanted a moment alone with Mahrtiir before Stave came near enough to overhear her.
The Manethrall studied her approach as though he believed-or feared-that she had been changed by Glimmermere. He must have noticed the sudden silence of the birds-She felt his sharp gaze on her, searching for indications that she was unharmed.
He was unaware of what had transpired: she could see that. Both Esmer and the Demondim-spawn were able to thwart perception. And the bulk of the hill must have blocked the noises of her encounter with them. If Mahrtiir had felt their presence, he would have ignored her request for privacy.
Yet it was clear that he retained enough discernment, in spite of Kevin’s Dirt, to recognise that something had happened to her or changed for her. As she neared him, he bowed deeply, as if he felt that he owed her a new homage. And when he raised his eyes again, his chagrin was unmistakable, in spite of his fierce nature.
“Ringthane-” he began awkwardly. “Again you have surpassed me. You are exalted-”
“No, Mahrtiir.” Linden hastened to forestall his wonder. She was too lost, and too needy, to bear it. “It isn’t me. It’s Glimmermere. That’s what you’re seeing.” She attempted an unsuccessful smile. You don’t need to stay away from it. As soon as you touch the water, you’ll know what I mean. It belongs to the Land. To everyone. You won’t feel like an intruder. And it cleans away Kevin’s Dirt.
“I can’t use my Staff right now.” She frowned at the wood in frustration. “You know that. I can’t protect us from being blinded, any of us. But as long as we can go to Glimmermere-“
When they knew the truth, Liand, Bhapa, and Pahni would be delighted. Anele, on the other hand-Linden sighed. He would avoid the lake strenuously. He feared anything that might threaten his self-imposed plight. And his defences were strong. He would use every scrap of his inborn might to preserve the peculiar integrity of his madness.
As Stave came closer, she promised the Manethrall quietly, “You’ll get your chance. I’ll make sure of it.”
The Raman bowed again. “My thanks, Ringthane.” Wryly he added, “Doubtless you have observed that the pride of the Ramen runs hotly within me. I do not contain it well.”
Hurrying to put the matter behind her, Linden said again, “Don’t worry about it. I respect your pride. It’s better than shame. And we have more important problems.”
Mahrtiir nodded. He may have thought that he knew what she meant.
A moment later, Stave reached the Manethrall’s side. He, too, bowed as if in recognition of some ineffable alteration, an elevation at once too subtle and too profound for Linden to acknowledge. “Chosen,” he said with his familiar flatness, “the waters of Glimmermere have served you well. You have been restored when none could have known that you had been diminished.”
He had cleaned the blood from his face, but he still wore his spattered tunic and his untended bruises as if they were a reproach to the Masters. His single eye gave his concentration a prophetic cast, as if in losing half of his vision he had gained a supernal insight.
Did he see her accurately? Had she in fact gleaned something sacramental from the lake? Something untainted by her encounter with Esmer’s ambiguous loyalties?
She shrugged the question aside. It could not change her choices-or the risks that she meant to take.
Without preamble, she replied, “I was just about to tell Mahrtiir that something happened after I-” She had no words adequate to the experience. “I wanted to talk to somebody who could tell me what’s going on, so I called Esmer.” Awkwardly she explained, “I have no idea what he can and can’t do. I thought that he might be able to hear me.”
While Stave studied her, and Mahrtiir stared with open surprise, she described as concisely as she could what Cail’s son had said and done.
“Ur-viles,” the Manethrall breathed when she was finished, “and Waynhim. So many-and together. Have these creatures indeed come to your aid? Do they suffice against the Teeth of the Render?”
Stave appeared to consult the air. With his tongue, he made a sound that suggested vexation. “The actions of these Demondim-spawn are unexpected,” he said aloud, “but no more so than those of their makers. If the spirit of Kastenessen is able to possess our companion Anele, much is explained.”
Our companion-Linden could not remember hearing Stave speak the old man’s name before. Apparently the former Master had extended his friendship to include all of her comrades.
“For that reason, however,” he continued, “the peril that the same spirit moves Esmer, and with him the ur-viles and Waynhim, cannot be discounted.
“Did Esmer reveal nothing of the ur-Lord, or of your son?”
“No,” she muttered bitterly. “I asked him whether Kastenessen helped Covenant and Jeremiah reach Revelstone, but he just changed the subject.”
Mahrtiir opened his mouth, then closed it again grimly. Stave had more to say.
“I mislike this confluence. Plainly the return of the Unbeliever from the Arch of Time holds great import. It appears to promise that the Land’s redemption is at hand. Yet his account of his coming troubles me. That he is able to cast a glamour of confusion upon the Demondim, I do not greatly question. However, his avowal concerning distortions of the Law of Time-” He hesitated momentarily, then said, “And Esmer’s grandsire connives with Demondim while Esmer himself removes Waynhim and ur-viles from their proper time.
“Chosen, here is cause for concern. It cannot lack meaning that such divergent events have occurred together.”
“Stave speaks sooth, Ringthane,” the Manethrall said in a low growl. “Esmer has been altered by your return to the Land. He is not as he was when he first gained the friendship of the Ramen. Had he answered you, his words would have held too much truth and falsehood to be of service.”
Linden agreed; but the thought did not comfort her. She had suffered too many shocks.
Jeremiah is here, but Foul still has him.