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Zusatztext “Donaldson builds toward a staggering resolution of love! endurance! and self-sacrifice.”—Tor.com “[Donaldson’s] work is remarkably distinct in its hero! its themes! its relationship to the real world.”— The Wall Street Journal “Donaldson’s landmark historical fantasy series marks a milestone of epic storytelling.”— Library Journal Informationen zum Autor Stephen R. Donaldson is the author of the original six volumes of The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, a landmark in modern fantasy. Every volume, beginning with Lord Foul’s Bane in 1977, has been an international bestseller. Donaldson returned to the series with The Last Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, comprising The Runes of the Earth , Fatal Revenant , Against All Things Ending , and now the final volume, The Last Dark . Donaldson lives in New Mexico. Klappentext The Climax of the Entire Thomas Covenant Chronicles After more than three decades, having attained bestseller status all over the world, The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant reaches its conclusion. This is a truly historic moment in fantasy, as Stephen R. Donaldson's innumerable fans learn the final fate of the Land. The Worm of the World's End is roused, seeking the ruin of all things.... Compelled step-by-step to actions whose consequences they could neither foresee nor prevent, Thomas Covenant and Linden Avery have fought for what they love in the magical reality known only as "the Land.” Now they face their final crisis. Reunited after their separate struggles, they discover in each other their true power—and yet they cannot imagine how to stop the Worm of the World's End from unmaking Time. Nevertheless, they must resist the ruin of all things, giving their last strength in the service of the world's continuance. You risk much, as you have ever done. Mayhap you will prevail. If you do not, your worth is not thereby diminished. 1. Betimes Some Wonder Linden Avery’s fate may indeed have been written in water. It was certainly writ in tears. They blurred everything; redefined the foundations of her life. Standing in Muirwin Delenoth, resting place of abhorrence, with Jeremiah clasped in her arms, she felt emotions as extreme as the dismay which had followed Thomas Covenant’s resurrection and the rousing of the Worm of the World’s End; as paralyzing and uncontainable as the knowledge that she had doomed all of her loves. But there, in Andelain, the scale of her distress had seemed too great to be called despair. Here, in the company of bones and old death, her glad shock at Jeremiah’s restoration was too great and complex to be joy. Stave of the Haruchai stood waiting with his arms folded, impassive as a man who had done nothing, and had never lost a son. Three Ranyhyn waited near him, watching Linden and Jeremiah with glory in their eyes. In the distant west, the sun drifted down shrouded in the hues of ash and dust, casting shadows like innominate auguries from the stone blades and plates which rimmed the hollow. Heaved aside by the deflagration of Jeremiah’s construct, the skeletons of quellvisks sprawled against the far slope of Muirwin Delenoth as if they sought to disavow their role in his redemption—or as if they had drawn back in reverence. Such things were the whole world, and the whole world waited. But Linden took no notice. She was unaware that she had dropped her Staff, or that Covenant’s ring still hung on its chain around her neck, holding in its small circle the forged fate of all things. She regarded only Jeremiah, felt only him; knew only that he responded to her embrace. A miracle so vast— I did it, Mom . For the first time in his life, he had spoken to her. I made a door for my mind, and it opened. Joy was too small a word for her emotions. Happiness and gratitude and relief and even aston...
