|Chapter 19: Hold Possession|
She felt that she was peering into the furnace of the desecrated sun; but she was still able to see.
Able to see the blow which Lord Foul hammered down on Covenant as if the wild magic were a dagger.
It made Mount Thunder lurch, snapped stalactites from the ceiling like a rain of spears which narrowly missed Linden. It slapped Covenant to the floor as if all his limbs had been broken. For an instant, a convulsion of lightning writhed over him. Power and coruscation like the immaculate silver-white of the ring clamored through him, shrilled along the lines of his form. She tried to yell; but the air in her lungs had given out.
When the blow passed, it left white flame spouting from the center of his chest.
The wound bled argent: all his blood was ablaze. Fire fountained from his gaping hurt, spat gouts and plumes of numinous and incandescent deflagration, untainted by any darkness or venom. During that moment, he looked like he was still alive.
But it was transitory. The fire faded rapidly. Soon it flickered and failed. His blasted husk lay on the floor and did not move again.
Too stunned to cry out, Linden hugged her arms around herself and keened in the marrow of her bones.
But Lord Foul went on laughing.
Like a ghoul he laughed, a demon of torment and triumph. His lust riddled the mountain; more stalactites fell. From wall to wall, a crack sprang through the chamber; and shattered stones burst like cries from the fissure. Kiril Threndor shrieked argent. The Despiser became titanic with white fire.
"Ware of me, my enemy!" His shout deafened Linden in spite of her instinctive self-protection. She heard him, not with her overwhelmed ears, but with the tissues and vessels of her lungs. "I hold the keystone of Time, and I will reave it to rubble! Oppose me if you dare!"