Something pushed against the shield Nynaeve had fastened between Logain and the True Source, building until the shield began to bend and the weave trembled on the brink of ripping apart. She let saidar flow through her, sweetness reaching the very edge of pain, channeling every thread into Spirit, into the shield. “Go, Elayne!” She did not care one bit if it came out a squeal.
Elayne, the Light shine on her, wasted no time on questions. She bounded out of her chair and was gone at a dead run.
Logain had not moved a muscle. His eyes held Nynaeve’s; they seemed to shine. Light, he was big. She fumbled for her belt knife, realized how ridiculous that was—he could probably take it away from her without sweating a drop more than he already was; his shoulders suddenly seemed as wide as she was tall—and diverted some of her weave to Air, to bonds that fastened him right where he sat, arm and leg. He was still big, yet suddenly he looked more normal, entirely manageable. Only then did it occur to her that she had lessened the strength of the shield. But she could not channel a hair more; already the . . . the pure joy of life that was saidar was so strong in her that she nearly wanted to weep. He smiled at her.
One of the Warders put his head in at the door, a dark-haired man with a bold nose and a deep, white scar running along his lean jaw. “Is anything amiss? The other Accepted, she went running like she had sat in the nettle patch.”
“Everything is quite under control,” she told him coolly. As coolly as she could manage. Nobody must know—nobody!—until she had a chance to speak with Sheriam, to get the woman on her side. “Elayne just remembered something she had forgotten.” That sounded inane. “You may leave us. I am busy.”
Tervail—that was his name; Tervail Dura, bonded to Beonin; and what under the Light did his name matter?—Tervail gave her a wry grin and a mocking bow before retreating. Warders seldom let Accepted get by with playing at Aes Sedai.
Not licking her lips took considerable effort. She studied Logain. He was outwardly calm, as if nothing had changed.
“There’s no need for this, Nynaeve. Do you think I’ll decide to attack a village with hundreds of Aes Sedai in it? They’d chop me to pieces before I took two steps.”
“Be quiet,” she said mechanically. Fumbling behind her, she found a chair and sat down, never taking her eyes off him. Light, what was keeping Sheriam? Sheriam had to understand it was an accident. She had to! Anger at herself was the only thing that kept her able to channel. How could she have been so careless, such a blind idiot?
“Don’t be afraid,” Logain said. “I won’t turn against them now. They’re succeeding in what I want, whether they know it or not. The Red Ajah is finished. In a year, there won’t be an Aes Sedai will dare admit she’s Red.”
“I said be quiet!” she snapped. “Do you think I’ll believe it’s only Reds you hate?”
“You know, I saw a man once who will cause more trouble than I ever did. Maybe it was the Dragon Reborn; I don’t know. It was when they took me through Caemlyn after I was captured. He was far away, but I saw a . . . a glow, and I knew he’d shake the world. Caged as I was, I couldn’t help laughing.”
Shifting a small portion of the Air holding him, she forced it between his jaws for a gag. His brows lowered in dark anger, gone in a flash, but she did not care. She had him secure now. At least . . . he had not attempted to struggle at all, but that could be because he had known from the first that she would only snare him. It could. But how hard had he tried to break through her shield? That push, not exactly slow in building but certainly not fast. Almost like a man stretching muscles long unused, pushing at something not with the intent of moving it but just from the need to feel those muscles again. The thought turned her belly to ice.
Infuriatingly, Logain’s eyes crinkled in amusement, almost as though he knew everything that had passed through her head. He sat there with his mouth gaping foolishly, bound and shielded, and he was the one at his ease. How could she have been such a fool? She was not fit to be Aes Sedai, not if her block crumbled this instant. She was not fit to be let out alone. They ought to tell Birgitte to make sure she did not fall on her face in the dust trying to cross the street.
It was not intentional, but berating herself kept her anger on a slow simmer until the door burst open. It was not Elayne.
Sheriam followed Romanda in, with Myrelle and Morvrin and Takima close behind, then Lelaine and Janya, Delana and Bharatine and Beonin, more, crowding in until they filled the room. Nynaeve could see others through the door that had no room to close. Those inside peered at her, and her weaving, so intently that she swallowed hard and all her fine anger collapsed. And of course, so did her shield and the bonds holding Logain.
Before Nynaeve could ask somebody to shield him again, Nisao planted herself in front of her. Short as Nisao was, she managed to loom. “Now what is all this nonsense about you Healing him?”
“Is that what she says she did?” Logain actually managed to sound surprised.
Varilin crowded in beside Nisao. The slender red-haired Gray loomed by virtue of being as tall as Logain. “I feared this as soon as everyone began petting her over her discoveries. Once they ran out, the petting stopped, and she was sure to make some wild claim to get it back.”
“It was letting her moon over Siuan and Leane,” Romanda said firmly. “And this fellow. She should have been told there are things that cannot be Healed, and there’s an end to it!”
“But I did!” Nynaeve protested. “I did! Please shield him. Please, you must!” The Aes Sedai in front of her turned to look at Logain, opening just enough space for her to see him too. He met all the stares with a bland face. He even shrugged!
“I think the least we can do is shield him until we are absolutely certain,” Sheriam suggested. Romanda nodded, and a shield sprang into being strong enough to hold a giant as the glow of saidar surrounded nearly every woman in the room. Romanda restored a little order by briskly naming six to maintain a lesser but adequate shield.
Myrelle’s hand closed around Nynaeve’s arm. “If you will forgive us, Romanda, we need to talk to Nynaeve alone.”
Sheriam’s hand closed on the other arm. “Best if we don’t leave it too long.”
Romanda nodded absently. She was frowning at Logain. Most of the Aes Sedai were; nobody was leaving.
Sheriam and Myrelle pulled Nynaeve to her feet and propelled her toward the door.
“What are you doing?” she demanded breathlessly. “Where are you taking me?” Outside they jostled through the throng of Aes Sedai, many of whom peered at her sharply, even accusingly. They pushed right by Elayne, who grimaced apologetically. Nynaeve looked over her shoulder as the two Aes Sedai hustled her along so quickly she kept stumbling. Not that she expected Elayne to help her, but it might be the last time she saw her. Beonin was saying something to Elayne, who darted away though the crowd. “What are you going to do to me?” Nynaeve moaned.
“We could keep you scrubbing pots for the rest of your natural life,” Sheriam said conversationally.
Myrelle nodded. “You could work in the kitchens all day.”
“We could have you switched every day instead.”
“Peel your hide off in strips.”
“Nail you into a barrel and feed you through the bunghole in the end.”
“Only mush, though. Stale mush.”
Nynaeve’s knees sagged. “It was an accident! I swear! I didn’t mean to!”
Sheriam gave her a hard shake without slowing a step. “Don’t be a fool, child. You may just have done the impossible.”
“You believe me? You believe me! Why didn’t you say something when Nisao and Varilin and—Why didn’t you say something?”
“I said ‘may,’ child.” Sheriam’s voice was depressingly neutral.
“Another possibility,” Myrelle said, “is that your brain has swollen from strain.” Her lidded eyes regarded Nynaeve. “You would be surprised at the number of Accepted, and even novices, who claim they’ve rediscovered some lost Talent, or found a new. When I was a novice, an Accepted named Echiko was so convinced she knew how to fly, she leaped from the top of the Tower.”
Head spinning, Nynaeve looked from one woman to the other. Did they believe her or not? Did they really think her mind had bent? What under the Light are they going to do to me? She tried to find words to convince them—she was not lying, not crazy; she had Healed Logain—but her mouth was still working soundlessly when they hurried her into the Little Tower.
Not until they entered what had been a private dining room, a long chamber where now a narrow table stood with chairs behind it near one wall, did Nynaeve realize they had gained a train of followers. More than a dozen Aes Sedai entered on their heels, Nisao folding her arms tightly beneath her breasts, and Dagdara with her chin thrust forward as though meaning to walk through a wall, Shanelle and Therva and . . . all Yellow Ajah, save Sheriam and Myrelle. That table suggested a magistrate’s chamber; that line of grim faces spoke of a trial. Nynaeve swallowed hard.
Sheriam and Myrelle left her standing and walked over to the table to confer quietly, their backs to her. When they turned again, their faces were unreadable.
“You claim that you Healed Logain.” There was a hint of contempt in Sheriam’s voice. “You claim you Healed a gentled man.”
“You must believe me,” Nynaeve protested. “You said you did.” She jumped as something unseen struck her hard across the hips.
“Remember yourself, Accepted,” Sheriam said coldly “Do you make this claim?”
Nynaeve stared at the woman. Sheriam was the one crazed, bouncing back and forth this way. Still, she managed a respectful “Yes, Aes Sedai.” Dagdara snorted like canvas ripping.
Sheriam gestured to quiet a murmur among the Yellows. “And you did it by accident, you say. If that’s the case, I suppose there is no chance of you showing proof by doing it again.”
“How could she?” Myrelle said, looking amused. Amused! “If she fumbled her way into it blindly, how could she possibly repeat it? But that would not matter unless she actually did the thing in the first place.”
“Answer me!” Sheriam snapped, and that invisible switch struck again. This time Nynaeve managed not to leap. “Is there any chance you can remember even part of what you did?”
“I remember, Aes Sedai,” she said sullenly, tensing for another blow. It did not come, but she could see the glow of saidar around Sheriam now. That glow seemed threatening.
A small commotion at the door, and Carlinya and Beonin pushed through the line of Yellow sisters, one shoving Siuan ahead of her, the other Leane. “They did not want to come,” Beonin announced in an exasperated tone. “Can you believe that they tried to tell us that they were busy?” Leane was as blank-faced as any Aes Sedai, but Siuan darted sullen, angry looks at everybody, especially Nynaeve.
Finally Nynaeve understood. Finally everything came together. The Yellow sisters’ presence. Sheriam and Myrelle believing, then not believing, threatening her, snapping at her. It was all apurpose, all to make her angry enough to work her Healing on Siuan and Leane, to prove herself to the Yellows. No. By their faces, they were here to see her fail, not succeed. She made no effort to hide the firm tug she gave her braid. In fact, she did it again, in case anyone had missed the first time. She wanted to smack all their faces. She wanted to dose them with a concoction of herbs that would make them sit down on the floor and cry like babies just from the smell. She wanted to yank their hair out and strangle them with it, to—
“Do I have to put up with this nonsense?” Siuan growled. “I have important work to do, but if it were only heading fish it would be more im—”
“Oh, shut up,” Nynaeve broke in testily. One step, and she seized Siuan’s head in both hands as if she intended to break the woman’s neck. She had believed that nonsense, even the barrel! They had manipulated her like a puppet!
Saidar filled her, and she channeled as she had with Logain, blending all of the Five Powers. She knew what she was looking for this time, that almost-not-there-at-all sense of something cut. Spirit and Fire to mend the break, and . . .
For a moment Siuan only stared, expressionless. Then the glow of saidar enveloped her. Gasps filled the room. Slowly Siuan leaned forward and kissed Nynaeve on either cheek. A tear leaked down her face, then another, and abruptly Siuan was weeping, hugging herself and shaking; the gleaming aura around her faded away. Sheriam quickly folded her into comforting arms; Sheriam looked as though she might cry too.
The rest of the room was staring at Nynaeve. The shock shining through all that Aes Sedai serenity was quite satisfying, and the disgruntlement too. Shanelle’s eyes, pale blue in a dark pretty face, seemed about to fall out of her head. Nisao’s mouth hung open, until she saw Nynaeve looking at her and snapped it shut.
“What made you think of using Fire?” Dagdara asked in a strangled voice that sounded entirely too high for such a big woman. “And Earth? You used Earth. Healing is Spirit, Water and Air.” That opened the floodgate, questions from every throat, but they were all the same question really, just phrased differently.
“I don’t know why,” Nynaeve replied when she found an opening. “It just seemed right. I’ve almost always used everything.” Which produced a round of admonitions. Healing was Spirit, Water and Air. It was dangerous to experiment with Healing; a mistake could kill not only you but your patient. She said nothing in reply, but the warnings died off quickly in rueful glances and smoothed skirts; she had not killed anyone, and she had Healed what they said could not be Healed.
Leane wore such a hopeful smile that it was almost painful. Nynaeve approached her with a smile of her own, masking the smoldering irritation inside. The Yellow Ajah and all its vaunted knowledge of Healing that she had been ready to beg on her knees to share. She knew more of Healing than any of them! “Watch carefully, now. You’ll not get another chance soon to see it done.”
She felt the joining clearly as she channeled, though she still could not have said what it was she had joined. It felt different than with Logain—it had with Siuan as well—but as she kept telling herself, men and women were different. Light, I’m lucky this works on them as well as it did on him! That brought up an uncomfortable line of speculation. What if some things had to be Healed differently in men than in women? Maybe she did not know so very much more than the Yellows after all.
Leane’s reaction differed from Siuan’s. No tears. She embraced saidar and smiled beatifically, then released it, though the smile remained. Then she flung her arms around Nynaeve and hugged her till her ribs creaked, whispering, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” over and over.
A murmur rose among the Yellows, and Nynaeve prepared to bask in their compliments. She would accept their apologies gracefully. Then she heard what they were saying.
“ . . . used Fire and Earth as if she were trying to bore a hole through stone.” That from Dagdara.
“A smoother touch would be better,” Shanelle agreed.
“ . . . see where Fire might be useful in problems with the heart,” Therva said, tapping her long nose. Beldemaine, a plump Arafellin with silver bells in her hair, nodded thoughtfully.
“ . . . if the Earth were combined with Air just so, you see . . . ”
“ . . . fire woven into Water . . . ”
“ . . . earth blended with the Water . . . ”
Nynaeve gaped. They had forgotten her completely. They thought they could do what she had just showed them better than she could!
Myrelle patted her arm. “You did very well,” she murmured. “Don’t worry; they will be all praises later. Right now, they are still a little taken aback.”
Nynaeve sniffed loudly, but none of the Yellows seemed to notice. “I hope this at least means I don’t have to scrub pots anymore.”
Sheriam’s head whipped around with a startled expression. “Why, child, whatever gave you that notion?” She still had an arm around Siuan, who was dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief in considerable embarrassment. “If anyone could break any rule they chose, do whatever they chose, and escape punishment merely by doing some good to balance it, the world would be chaos.”
Nynaeve sighed heavily. She should have known.
Stepping out from the other Yellows, Nisao cleared her throat, and in passing shot Nynaeve a glare that could only be called accusatory. “I suppose this means we will have to gentle Logain again.” She sounded as though she wanted to deny any of it had happened.
Heads began nodding, and then Carlinya spoke, like an icicle stabbed into the room. “Can we?” Every eye turned to her, but she went on calmly, coolly. “Ethically, can we consider supporting a man who can channel, a man trying to gather other men who can, while at the same time we go on as before, gentling those we find? Practically, what effect will it have on him when he learns? Distressing as it may be, as matters stand, he will see us as separate from the Tower, and more importantly, from Elaida and the Red Ajah. If we gentle even one man, we may lose that distinction, and with it our chance to gain a hold on him before Elaida does.”
Silence cloaked the room when she stopped. Aes Sedai exchanged troubled looks, and those directed at Nynaeve made Nisao’s look laudatory. Sisters had died in capturing Logain, and even if he was safely shielded again, she had given them him to deal with all over again, and a worse pickle besides.
“I think you should go,” Sheriam said softly.
Nynaeve was not about to argue. She made her curtsies as quickly and carefully as she could, and did her best not to run in leaving.
Outside, Elayne rose from the stone step. “I’m sorry, Nynaeve,” she said, brushing her skirt. “I was so excited, I blurted out everything to Sheriam before I realized Romanda and Delana were there.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Nynaeve said heavily, starting down the crowded street. “It would have gotten out sooner or later.” It just was not fair, though. I did something they said couldn’t be done, and I still have to scrub pots! “Elayne, I don’t care what you say; we have to go. Carlinya was talking about getting a ‘hold’ on Rand. This lot won’t be any better than Elaida. Thom or Juilin will get horses for us, and Birgitte can just bite her elbow.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late,” Elayne said miserably. “Word is spreading already.”
Larissa Lyndel and Zenare Ghodar swooped down from opposite directions like hawks on either side of Nynaeve. Larissa was a bony woman whose plainness almost overcame Aes Sedai agelessness, Zenare slightly plump and haughty enough for two queens, but both wore faces of eager anticipation. They were Yellow Ajah, though neither had been in the room when she Healed Siuan and Leane.
“I want to see you go through everything step by step, Nynaeve,” Larissa said, laying hold of an arm.
“Nynaeve,” Zenare said, seizing the other arm, “I wager that I will find a hundred things you never thought of, if you repeat the weave often enough.”
Salita Toranes, Tairen and almost as dark as one of the Sea Folk, seemed to pop out of nowhere. “Others ahead of me, I see. Well, burn my soul if I’ll wait in line.”
“I was here first, Salita,” Zenare said firmly. And tightened her grip.
“I was first,” Larissa said, tightening hers.
Nynaeve shot a look of pure horror at Elayne, and got commiseration in return, and a shrug. This was what Elayne had meant about too late. She would not have a waking moment to herself after this.
“ . . . angry?” Zenare was saying. “I know fifty ways at the front of my head to make her angry enough to chew rocks.”
“I can think of a hundred,” Larissa said. “I intend to break her block if it’s the last thing I do.”
Magla Daronos shouldered her way into the group, and she had the shoulders for it. She looked as if she worked the sword, or a blacksmith’s hammer. “You will break it, Larissa? Hah! I do have several ways in mind already to draw it out of her.”
Nynaeve just wanted to scream.
It was all Siuan could do not to embrace saidar and hold it, but she thought she might start crying again. That would never do. Besides, it would seem like some fool novice’s display to the women crowding around her in the waiting room. Every expression of wonder and delight, every warm welcome as if she had been away for years, came as balm, especially from those who had been friends before she became Amyrlin, before time and duty pulled them apart. Lelaine and Delana wrapped their arms around her as they had not in long years. Moiraine had been the only one closer, the only one beside Leane she had managed to keep after donning the stole, and duty had helped keep them together.
“It is so good to have you back,” Lelaine laughed.
“So very good,” Delana murmured warmly.
Siuan laughed, and had to scrub tears from her cheeks. Light, what was the matter with her? She had not wept this easily as a child!
Maybe it was just joy, at regaining saidar, at all the warmth around her. The Light knew, altogether it was enough to unsettle anybody. She had never dared dream this day might come, and now that it had, she held nothing against any of these women, not their cold distance before, not their insistence that she remember her place. The line between Aes Sedai and not Aes Sedai was clear—she had insisted on it before she was stilled, and it went without saying that she would again—and she knew how stilled women had to be dealt with for their own good and the good of those who could still channel. Had had to be dealt with. How strange it was that that would never be so again.
From the corner of her eye she saw Gareth Bryne trotting up the stairs at the side of the room. “Excuse me a moment,” she said, and hurried after him.
Even hurrying meant stopping every two steps to accept another congratulation all the way to the stairs, so she did not catch up until he was striding down a corridor on the second floor. Rushing ahead, she planted herself in front of him. His mostly gray hair was windblown, his square face and worn buff coat dusty. He looked as solid as stone.
Lifting a sheaf of papers, he said, “I have to drop this off, Siuan,” and tried to step around her.
She moved to block him. “I’ve been Healed. I can channel again.”
He nodded; just nodded! “I heard some talk. I suppose this means you’ll be channeling my shirts clean from now on. Maybe they actually will be clean now. I’ve regretted letting Min go so easily.”
Siuan stared at him. The man was no fool. Why was he pretending not to understand? “I am Aes Sedai again. Do you really expect an Aes Sedai to do your laundry?”
Just to drive it home, she embraced saidar—that missed sweetness was so wonderful she shivered—wrapped him in flows of Air, and lifted him. Tried to lift him. Gaping, she drew more, tried harder, until the sweetness stabbed like a thousand hooks. His boots never stirred from the floor.
It was impossible. True, the simple act of picking something up was one of the hardest in channeling, but she had been able to lift nearly three times her own weight.
“Is this supposed to impress me,” Bryne said calmly, “or frighten me? Sheriam and her friends gave their word, the Hall gave its word, and more importantly, you gave yours, Siuan. I wouldn’t let you get away from me if you were the Amyrlin again. Now undo whatever it is you’ve done, or when I get free of it, I’ll turn you upside down and smack you for being childish. You’re very seldom childish, so you needn’t think I will let you start now.”
In a near daze, she released the Source. Not for his threat—he was capable of it; he had done it before; but not for that—and not for shock at being unable to pick him up. Tears seemed to well up in her like a fountain; she hoped that letting go of saidar might stop them. A few still slid down her cheeks, though, however hard she blinked.
Gareth was cupping her face in his hands before she knew he had moved. “Light, woman, don’t tell me I frightened you. I didn’t think being dropped in a pit with a pack of leopards would frighten you.”
“I am not frightened,” she said stiffly. Good; she could still lie. Tears, building inside.
“We have to work out some way not to be at one another’s throat all the time,” he said quietly.
“There is no reason for us to work out anything.” They were coming. They were coming. Oh, Light, she could not let him see. “Just leave me alone, please. Please, just go.” For a wonder, he hesitated only a moment before doing as she asked.
With the sound of his boots behind her, she managed to make it around the corner into the crossing hallway before the dam burst and she sank to her knees weeping piteously. She knew what it was, now. Alric, her Warder. Her dead Warder murdered when Elaida deposed her. She could lie—the Three Oaths were still gone—but some part of her bond to Alric, a bond flesh to flesh and mind to mind, had been resurrected. The pain of his death, the pain first masked by the shock of what Elaida intended and then buried by stilling, that pain filled her to the brim. Huddled against the wall, bawling, she was only glad Gareth was not seeing this. I have no time to fall in love, burn him!
The thought was a bucket of cold water in her face. The pain remained, but the tears stopped, and she scrambled to her feet. Love? That was as impossible as . . . as . . . she could not think of anything impossible enough. The man was impossible!
Suddenly she realized Leane was standing not two paces away, watching. Siuan made one effort at wiping the tears from her face, then gave it up. There was nothing but sympathy on Leane’s face. “How did you deal with Anjen’s . . . death, Leane?” That had been fifteen years ago now.
“I cried,” Leane said. “For a month I held it in during the day, and spent the night in a quivering ball of tears in the middle of my bed. After I had torn the sheets to shreds. For three more, I could find tears in my eyes without warning. Over a year passed before I stopped hurting. That’s why I never bonded another. I did not think I could live through that again. It does pass, Siuan.” She found a roguish smile somewhere. “Now I think I could manage two or three Warders, if not four.”
Siuan nodded. She could cry at night. As for Gareth bloody Bryne . . . there was no “as for.” There was not! “Do you think they’re ready?” They had had only a moment to talk below. This hook had to be set quickly or it would not be set at all.
“Perhaps. I did not have much time. And I had to be careful.” Leane paused. “Are you sure you want to go through with this, Siuan? It’s changing everything we have worked for, on no notice at all, and . . . I am not as strong as I was, Siuan, and neither are you. Most of the women here can channel more than either of us, now. Light, I think some of the Accepted can, not even counting Elayne or Nynaeve.”
“I know,” Siuan said. It had to be risked. The other plan had only been a stop-gap, because she was no longer Aes Sedai. But now she was Aes Sedai again, and she had been deposed with only the barest nod to Tower law. If she was Aes Sedai again, was she not Amyrlin again as well?
Squaring her shoulders, she went below to do battle with the Hall.
Lying on her bed in her shift, Elayne stifled a yawn and went back to rubbing the cream Leane had given her into her hands. It seemed to do some good; at least they felt softer. A night breeze stirred through the window, making the lone candle flicker. If anything, the air only made the room hotter.
Nynaeve staggered in, banged the door shut, flung-herself across her bed, and lay staring at Elayne. “Magla is the most contemptible, hateful, low woman in the entire world,” she mumbled. “No, Larissa is. No, it’s Romanda.”
“I take it they made you angry enough to channel.” Nynaeve grunted, with the vilest expression, and Elayne hurried on. “How many did you demonstrate for? I expected you long ago. I looked for you at dinner, but I couldn’t find you.”
“I had a roll for dinner,” Nynaeve muttered. “One roll! I demonstrated for all of them, every last Yellow in Salidar. Only they aren’t satisfied. They want me one at a time. They set up a rotating schedule. Larissa has me tomorrow morning—before breakfast!—and Zenare right after, then . . . they discussed how to make me angry as if I was not there!” She raised her head from the coverlet, looking hunted. “Elayne, they are competing over who is going to break my block. They’re like boys trying to catch a greased pig on feastday, and I am the pig!”
Yawning, Elayne handed her the pot of hand cream, and after a moment Nynaeve rolled over and began rubbing it on. Nynaeve still had her time at the pots, too.
“I’m sorry I didn’t do as you wanted days ago, Nynaeve. We could have woven disguises like Moghedien’s and walked right past everybody.” Nynaeve’s hands stopped. “What is the matter, Nynaeve?”
“I never thought of that. I never thought of it!”
“You didn’t? I was sure you had. You learned it first, after all.”
“I tried not even to think about what we couldn’t tell the sisters.” Nynaeve’s voice was flat as ice and about as cold and hard. “And now it is too late. I’m too tired to channel if you set my hair on fire, and if they have their way, I will be too tired forever. The only reason they let me go tonight was that I couldn’t find saidar even when Nisao . . . ” She shuddered, and then her hands began moving again, smoothing in the cream.
Elayne let out a small breath. She had very nearly put her foot in it. She was tired, too. Admitting you had been wrong always made the other person feel better, but she hadn’t meant to mention using saidar for disguises. From the first she had been afraid Nynaeve would do that. Here, at the very least, they could keep an eye on what the Salidar Aes Sedai intended, and maybe pass word to Rand through Egwene, once she returned to Tel’aran’rhiod. At the worst, they might have some small influence, through Siuan and Leane.
As if the thought were a summons, the door opened to admit just those women. Leane carried a wooden tray with bread and a bowl of soup, a red pottery cup and a white-glazed pitcher. There was even a sprig of green leaves in a tiny blue vase. “Siuan and I thought you might be hungry, Nynaeve. I hear the Yellows used you hard.”
Elayne was uncertain whether she should rise or not. It was just Siuan and Leane, but they were Aes Sedai again. At least, she thought they were. The two solved the problem by sitting, Siuan on the foot of Elayne’s bed, Leane on Nynaeve’s. Nynaeve eyed them both suspiciously before sitting up with her back against the wall and taking the tray on her knees.
“I heard a rumor you addressed the Hall, Siuan,” Elayne said carefully. “Should we have curtsied?”
“Do you mean are we Aes Sedai again, girl? We are. They wrangled like fishwives on Sunday, but they granted that much at least.” Siuan exchanged glances with Leane, and Siuan’s cheeks colored faintly. Elayne suspected she would never learn what had not been granted.
“Myrelle was kind enough to find me and let me know,” Leane said into the momentary silence. “I think I am going to choose Green.”
Nynaeve choked around her spoon. “What do you mean? Can you change Ajahs?”
“No, you cannot,” Siuan told her. “But what the Hall decided is that although we are Aes Sedai, for a time we weren’t. And since they insist on believing that codswallop was legal, all our ties, binds, associations and titles went overboard.” Her voice was wry enough to rasp wood. “Tomorrow I ask the Blues whether they’ll have me back. I’ve never heard of an Ajah turning anybody down—by the time you’re raised from Accepted, you’ve been guided to the right Ajah whether you know it or not—but the way matters are proceeding, I wouldn’t be completely surprised if they slammed the door on my foot.”
“How are matters proceeding?” Elayne asked. There was something here. Siuan bullied, prodded, twisted your arm; she did not bring soup, sit on your bed and chat like a friend. “I thought every thing was going as well as could be expected.” Nynaeve gave her a stare that managed to be incredulous and haggard at the same time. Well, Nynaeve ought to know what she meant.
Siuan twisted around to face her, but she included Nynaeve as well. “I went by Logain’s house. Six sisters are maintaining his shield, the same as when he was captured. He tried to break free when he found out we knew he had been Healed, and they said if only five had been holding the shield, he might have. So he’s as strong as he ever was, or close enough to make no difference. I’m not. Neither is Siuan. I want you to try again, Nynaeve.”
“I knew it!” Nynaeve flung her spoon down on the tray. “I knew you had some reason for this! Well, I’m too tired to channel, and it wouldn’t matter if I wasn’t. You can’t Heal what has been Healed. You get out of here, and take your vile-tasting soup with you!” Less than half the vile-tasting soup remained, and it was a big bowl.
“I know it won’t work!” Siuan snapped back. “This morning I knew stilling couldn’t be Healed!”
“A moment, Siuan,” Leane said. “Nynaeve, do you realize what we are risking, coming here together? This isn’t a room in an alley with your archer friend standing guard; there are women all through this house, with eyes to see and tongues to talk. If it is found out that Siuan and I have been playing a game with everybody—even ten years from now—well, suffice it to say, Aes Sedai can be given penance, and we would very likely still be on a farm hoeing cabbages after our hair turns white. We came because of what you did for us, to make a fresh start.”
“Why didn’t you go to one of the Yellows?” Elayne asked. “Most of them must know as much about it as Nynaeve by now.” Nynaeve glared indignantly around the spoon. Vile-tasting?
Siuan and Leane exchanged looks, and at last Siuan said reluctantly, “If we go to a sister, everybody knows, soon or late. If Nynaeve does it, maybe anybody who managed to weigh us today will think they were mistaken. Supposedly, all sisters are equal, and there have been Amyrlins who barely managed to channel enough to earn the shawl, but Amyrlins and the heads of Ajahs aside, by custom, if another is stronger in the Power than you, you’re expected to give way to her.”
“I don’t understand,” Elayne said. She was getting quite a lesson out of this; the hierarchy made sense, but she supposed it was one of those things you did not learn until you actually were Aes Sedai. One way and another, she had picked up enough hints to suspect that in many ways your education only began when you put on the shawl. “If Nynaeve can Heal you again, then you’re stronger.”
Leane shook her head. “No one has ever been Healed from stilling before. Maybe the others will see it, say, like being wilders. That puts you a little lower than your strength. Maybe having been weaker will count something. If Nynaeve couldn’t Heal us all the way the first time, maybe she’ll only take us to two-thirds what we were, or half. Even that would be better than now; but still most here would be as strong, and a good many stronger.” Elayne stared, more confused than before. Nynaeve looked as if she had been hit between the eyes.
“Everything goes into it,” Siuan explained. “Who learned fastest, who spent the least time as novice and Accepted. There are all sorts of shadings. You can’t say precisely how strong anyone is. Two women might seem to be the same strength; maybe they are and maybe not, but the only way to say for certain would be a duel, and the Light be blessed, we’re above that. Unless Nynaeve returns us to our full strength, we run the risk of standing fairly low.”
Leane took it up again. “The hierarchy isn’t supposed to rule anything except everyday life, but it does. Advice from somebody with higher standing is given more weight than from somebody with lower. It did not matter while we were stilled. We had no standing at all; they weighed what we said on merit alone. It will not be that way now.”
“I see,” Elayne said faintly. No wonder people thought Aes Sedai invented the Game of Houses! They made Daes Dae’mar look simple.
“It’s nice to see that Healing you gave somebody more trouble than it did me,” Nynaeve grumbled. Peering into the bottom of the bowl, she sighed, then wiped it out with the last bit of bread.
Siuan’s face darkened, but she managed to keep her voice level. “You can see, we lay ourselves bare. And not just to convince you to try Healing again. You gave me back . . . my life. As simple as that. I had convinced myself I wasn’t dead, but it certainly seems so compared to this. So we make Leane’s fresh start. Friends, if you’ll have me for one. If not, then crewmates in the same boat.”
“Friends,” Elayne said. “Friends sounds much better to me.” Leane smiled at her, but she and Siuan were still watching Nynaeve.
Nynaeve peered from one to the other. “Elayne had a question, so I should have one. What did Sheriam and the others learn from the Wise Ones last night? Don’t say you do not know, Siuan. As far as I’m concerned you know what they think an hour after they think it.”
Siuan’s jaw set stubbornly; those deep blue eyes set themselves to intimidate. Suddenly she yelped, and bent to rub her ankle.
“Tell them,” Leane said, drawing back her foot, “or I will. All of it, Siuan.”
Glaring at Leane, Siuan puffed up till Elayne thought she might burst, but then her gaze touched Nynaeve, and she deflated. Words came out as though dragged, but they came. “The embassy from Elaida has reached Cairhien. Rand’s met them, but he seems to be trying to toy with them. At least let us hope that’s what he is doing. Sheriam and the others are set up because for once they managed not to make fools of themselves with the Wise Ones. And Egwene will be at the next meeting.” For some reason, that last seemed to come most reluctantly of all.
Nynaeve brightened, sitting up straighten “Egwene? Oh, that’s wonderful! So they didn’t come off as fools for once. I half wondered why they were not here to drag us off for another lesson.” She squinted at Siuan, but even the squint looked cheerful. “A boat, you say? Who’s the captain?”
“I am, you wretched little—” Leane cleared her throat, and Siuan took a deep breath. “A share-crew, then; equal shares. But someone has to steer,” she added when Nynaeve began to smile, “and that will be me.”
“All right,” Nynaeve said after a long moment. Another hesitation, fiddling with her spoon, then, in a voice so casual Elayne wanted to throw up her hands, “Is there any chance you might help me—us—get us out of the kitchens?” They had faces no older than Nynaeve’s, but they had been Aes Sedai for a long time; their eyes remembered that Aes Sedai stare. Nynaeve met it more steadily than Elayne thought she could have—except for just a bit of shifting—but in the end it was no surprise when she muttered, “I suppose not.”
“We have to be going,” Siuan said, standing. “If anything, Leane understated the cost of discovery. We could be the first Aes Sedai skinned publicly, and I’ve already been the only first I want to.”
To Elayne’s surprise, Leane bent to hug her, whispering, “Friends.” Elayne returned the hug and the word warmly.
Leane also hugged Nynaeve, murmuring something Elayne could not hear, and then Siuan did too, with a “Thank you” that sounded gruff and reluctant.
At least, that was how it sounded to her, but once they were gone, Nynaeve said, “She was about to cry, Elayne. Maybe she really meant all of that. I suppose I should try to be nicer to her.” She sighed, which became a yawn, muffling “Especially since she’s Aes Sedai again.” And with that, she fell asleep with the tray still on her knees.
Muffling a yawn of her own behind her hand, Elayne got up and squared everything away neatly, tucking the tray under Nynaeve’s bed. It took a little time to get Nynaeve out of her dress and settled down into the bed more comfortably, but even that did not wake her. For herself, once Elayne had the candle snuffed and was hugging her pillow, she lay awake, staring at the darkness and thinking. Rand trying to deal with Aes Sedai sent by Elaida? They would eat him alive. Almost she wished she could have seen her way to accepting Nynaeve’s suggestion when it had a chance of success. She could guide him through any snares they set, she was sure—Thom had added a great deal to what her mother taught her—and he would listen to her. Besides, that way she could bond him. After all, she had not waited until she wore the shawl to bond Birgitte; why wait for Rand?
Shifting, she snuggled deeper into her pillow. He had to wait. He was in Caemlyn, not Salidar. Wait, Siuan said he was in Cairhien. How . . . ? She was too tired; the thought drifted. Siuan. Siuan was still hiding something; she was sure of it.
Sleep slid in, and with it a dream, a boat with Leane sitting in the bow flirting with a man whose face was different every time Elayne looked. In the stern, Siuan and Nynaeve were struggling, each trying to steer in a different direction—until Elayne stood up and took charge. A captain keeping secrets could be reason enough for a mutiny if need be.
In the morning Siuan and Leane returned before Nynaeve even opened her eyes, more than sufficient to make her angry enough to channel. It did no good, though. What was already Healed could not be Healed again.
“I will do what I can, Siuan,” Delana said, leaning forward to pat the other woman’s arm. They were alone in the sitting room, and the teacups on the small table between their chairs stood untouched.
Siuan sighed, looking dejected, though what she could expect after her outburst in front of the Hall, Delana did not know. Early-morning light spilled through the windows, and she thought of the breakfast she had not had yet, but this was Siuan. The situation was disconcerting, and Delana did not like being disconcerted. She had schooled herself not to see her old friend in this woman’s face—not hard, since she looked nothing at all like the Siuan Sanche Delana remembered, not at any age—yet seeing Siuan again, a Siuan young and pretty, was only the first shock. The second was Siuan appearing on her doorstep with the sun not up, asking help; Siuan never asked for help. And then there was the biggest shock of all, the one renewed every time she came face-to-face with Siuan since the al’Meara woman had worked her impossible miracle. She was stronger than Siuan, much stronger. The margin had always gone the other way; Siuan had taken the lead when they were novices, even before they were Accepted. Still, she was Siuan, and upset, which Delana never remembered before. Siuan could be upset, but she never let you see it. It distressed her that she could not do more for the woman who had stolen honeycakes with her and more than once had taken the blame for pranks they had both been involved in.
“Siuan, I can do this much at least. Romanda would be more than happy to take those dream ter’angreal into the Hall’s keeping. She doesn’t have enough Sitters with her to bring it off, but if Sheriam thinks she does, if she thinks you’ve used your influence with Lelaine and me to stop it, then she won’t be able to refuse you. I know Lelaine will agree. Though why you want to meet these Aiel women, I cannot imagine. Romanda smiles like a cat in the buttery, watching Sheriam stalk around in a temper after one of those meetings. With your temper, you will likely burst something.” Such a change. Once she would never have thought of mentioning Siuan’s temper; now she mentioned it without thinking.
Siuan’s downcast face broke into a smile. “I hoped you would do something like that. I will speak to Lelaine. And Janya; I think Janya will help. You have to make sure Romanda doesn’t actually do it, though. From the little I know, Sheriam has worked out at least a semblance of how to get along with these Aiel. I’m afraid Romanda would need to start from the beginning. Of course, that might not be important to the Hall, but I would just as soon not have my first look at them when everybody has a hook in their gills.”
Delana kept her smile inside as she escorted Siuan to the front step and gave her a hug. Yes, it would be very important to the Hall to keep the Wise Ones pacific, though Siuan had no way of knowing that. She watched Siuan hurry down the street before going back in. It seemed she was going to be the one doing the protecting now. She hoped she made as good a job of it as her friend had.
The tea was still warm, and she decided to send Miesa, her serving woman, for some rolls and fruit, but when a timid tap came at the sitting room door, it was not Miesa but Lucilde, one of the novices they had brought from the Tower.
The lanky girl bobbed a nervous curtsy, but Lucilde was always nervous. “Delana Sedai? A woman arrived this morning, and Anaiya Sedai said I should bring her to you? Her name’s Halima Saranov? She says she knows you?”
Delana opened her mouth to say that she had never heard of any Halima Saranov, and a woman appeared in the doorway. Delana stared in spite of herself. The woman managed to be slender and lush at the same time, and wore a dark gray riding dress cut ridiculously low; long lustrous black hair framed a green-eyed face that probably made every man who glimpsed it gape. That was not why Delana stared, of course. The woman held her hands at her sides, but with thumbs thrust hard between the first two fingers. Delana had never expected to see that from any woman who did not wear the shawl, and this Halima Saranov could not even channel. She was close enough to be sure of that.
“Yes,” Delana said, “it seems to me I do remember. Leave us, Lucilde. And, child, do try to remember that every sentence isn’t a question.” Lucilde bobbed a curtsy so quick and deep that she nearly fell. Under other circumstances, Delana would have sighed; she had never done well with novices, though she could not understand why.
Almost before the novice was out of the room, Halima swayed over to the chair Siuan had used and sat without a word of invitation. Picking up one of the untouched cups, she crossed her legs and sipped, watching Delana over the rim.
Delana fixed her with a hard stare. “Who do you think you are, woman? However high you think you stand, none stand higher than Aes Sedai. And where did you learn that sign?” For perhaps the first time in her life, that stare did no good.
Halima smiled at her mockingly. “Do you really think the secrets of the . . . shall we say, darker Ajah, are that secret? As for how high you stand, you know very well that if a beggar gave the proper signs, you would leap to obey. My story is that I was traveling companion for a time to one Cabriana Mecandes, a Blue sister. Unfortunately, Cabriana died in a fall from her horse, and her Warder simply refused to leave his blankets or eat after that. He died, too.” Halima smiled as if to ask whether Delana was following. “Cabriana and I talked a great deal before she died, and she told me about Salidar. She also told me a number of things she had learned about the White Tower’s plans for you here. And for the Dragon Reborn.” Another smile, a quick flash of white teeth, and she went back to her tea and her watching.
Delana had never been a woman to give up easily. She had bludgeoned kings into making peace when they wanted war, dragged queens by the scruff of the neck to sign treaties that had to be signed. True, she would have obeyed that hypothetical beggar if he had the proper signs and said the right things, but Halima’s hands had identified her as Black Ajah, which she clearly was not. Perhaps the woman thought that was the only way to make Delana acknowledge her, and perhaps she wanted to show off her forbidden knowledge as well. Delana did not like this Halima. “And I suppose I am supposed to make sure the Hall accepts your information,” she said gruffly. “It should be no problem so long as you know enough of Cabriana to support your tale. I can’t help you there; I never met her above twice. I suppose there is no chance of her appearing to spoil your story?”
“No chance at all.” Again that quick, mocking smile. “And I could recite Cabriana’s life. I know things she had forgotten herself.”
Delana only nodded to that. Killing a sister was always to be regretted, but what must be, must be. “Then there is no problem at all. The Hall will receive you as a guest, and I can make sure they listen.”
“A guest is not exactly what I had in mind. Something rather more permanent, I think. Your secretary, or better yet, your companion. I need to make sure your Hall is guided carefully. Beyond this tale of Cabriana’s news, from time to time I’ll have instructions for you.”
“Now you listen to me! I—!”
Halima cut her off without raising her voice. “I was told to mention a name to you. A name I use, sometimes. Aran’gar.”
Delana sat down heavily. That name had been mentioned in her dreams. For the first time in years, Delana Mosalaine was afraid.