Egwene closed her mouth. If I haul them up by their ankles and dunk their heads, they’ll . . . What was she thinking? They had to scream because she had? She was no wetter than they. I must look like a drowned rat! She channeled carefully — working about yourself always took care; you could not see the flows clearly — and water rolled off her, oozed out of her garments. It made quite a puddle.
It was the boatman staring at her, mouth hanging open and eyes wide, that made her realize what she had done. Channeled, in the middle of the river, with nothing to hide her from any Aes Sedai who happened to be where she could see. Sun or no sun, she suddenly felt cold to the bone.
“You may take me back to shore now.” No telling who was on the docks; at this distance she could not tell a man from a woman. “Not to the city. The riverbank.” The fellow flung himself against his oars so hard she almost fell over backward.
He took her to a spot where the shore was all smooth rocks the size of her head. There was no one in sight, but she leaped out as soon as the boat grated onto the rocks, hoisted her skirts and darted up the sloping bank at a dead run she maintained all the way back to her tent where she collapsed in a panting pile of sweat. She did not go near the city again. Except to meet Gawyn, of course.
The days passed, and the now almost ceaseless wind carried waves of dust and grit day and night. On the fifth night, Bair accompanied Egwene into the World of Dreams, just a quick jaunt in the nature of a test, a walk in the part of Tel’aran’rhiod that Bair knew best, the Aiel Waste, a parched jagged land that made even drought-torn Cairhien seem lush and fair. A quick trip, and then Bair and Amys came to wake her and see whether it had had any ill effect. It had not. No matter how they made her run and jump, no matter how often they peered into her eyes and listened to her heart, they agreed, but agreement or not, the next night Amys took her for another short trip to the Waste, followed by another examination that made her glad to crawl onto her pallet and fall into a deep sleep.
Those two nights she did not return to the World of Dreams, but it was more exhaustion than anything else. Before that she had told herself every night she should stop — a fine thing if she was caught violating their strictures just when they were ready to lift them — but somehow she always decided that just a short trip would be all right, quick enough to reduce the chance of exposure. One thing she did avoid was the place between Tel’aran’rhiod and the waking world, the place where dreams floated. Especially she avoided it after she found herself thinking that if she was very careful she might be able to peek into Gawyn’s dreams without being drawn in, and that even if she was pulled in, it would only be a dream. She reminded herself firmly that she was a grown woman, not a silly girl. She was just glad no one else knew what a snarl the man made of her thoughts. Amys and Bair would laugh till they cried.
On the seventh night, she prepared herself for bed carefully, putting on a fresh shift and brushing her hair till it shone. All useless so far as Tel’aran’rhiod was concerned, but it kept her from thinking about how her stomach was doing backflips. Tonight it would be Aes Sedai waiting in the Heart of the Stone, not Nynaeve or Elayne. That should make no difference, unless . . . The ivory-backed hairbrush froze in mid-stroke. Unless one of the Aes Sedai revealed that she was only Accepted. Why had she not thought of that before? Light, but she wished she could talk with Nynaeve and Elayne. Only, she could not see what good it would do, and she was certain that dream of breaking things meant something would go badly wrong if she did speak to them.
Chewing her lip, she considered going to Amys and telling her she was not feeling well. Nothing serious, just an upset stomach, but she did not think she could visit the dream tonight. They were going to start her lessons again after tonight’s meeting, but . . . Another lie, and a coward’s way to boot. She would not be a coward. Not everyone could be as brave as everyone else, but cowardice was despicable. Whatever happened tonight, she had to make herself face it, and that was that.
Firmly she put down the brush, blew out the lamp and crawled onto her pallet. She was tired enough that falling asleep presented no problem, though if necessary she knew how to put herself to sleep at any time now, or enter a light trance where she could be in the World of Dreams and still talk — well, mumble — to someone waiting by her body. The last thing before sleep came, she realized something surprising. Her stomach was not turning over anymore.
She stood in a great vaulted chamber forested with thick columns of polished redstone. The Heart of the Stone, in the Stone of Tear. Gilded lamps hung from chains overhead. Unlit, but there was of course light, coming from everywhere and nowhere. Amys and Bair were already there, looking no different than they had that morning, except that all their necklaces and bracelets sparkled a bit more than even gold really should have. They were talking quietly, and looking irritated. Egwene caught only a word here and there, but two of them were “Rand al’Thor.”
Abruptly she realized she was wearing an Accepted’s white dress with the banded hem. As soon as she did, it became a copy of the Wise Ones’ garb, without jewelry. She did not think the other two women had noticed, or would know what the dress meant if they did. There were times when surrender lost less ji and earned less toh than the alternatives, but no Aiel would ever consider it without even trying to fight.
“They are late again,” Amys said wryly, walking out into the open space beneath the chamber’s great dome. Driven into the floorstones there was what appeared to be a sword made of crystal, Callandor of prophecy, a male sa’angreal and one of the most powerful ever made. Rand had put it there to remind the Tairens of him, as if there was any chance of them forgetting, but Amys barely glanced at it. To others The Sword That Is Not a Sword might be a symbol of the Dragon Reborn; to her, it was a wetlander concern. “At least we can hope they will not try to pretend they know everything and we nothing. They were much better, last time.”
Bair’s snort would have made Sorilea blink. “They will never be better. The least they can do is be where they said they would be when they said they — ” She cut off as seven women appeared suddenly on the other side of Callandor.
Egwene recognized them, including the young woman with the determined blue eyes she had seen before in Tel’aran’rhiod. Who was she? Amys and Bair had mentioned the others — usually in acid tones — but never another. She wore a blue-fringed shawl; they all wore their shawls. Their dresses changed color and cut from moment to moment, but the shawls never flickered.
The Aes Sedai’s eyes focused immediately on Egwene. The Wise Ones might as well not have existed.
“Egwene al’Vere,” Sheriam said formally, “you are summoned before the Hall of the Tower.” Her tilted green eyes shone with some suppressed emotion. Egwene’s stomach sank; they knew she had been masquerading as a full sister.
“Ask not why you are summoned,” Carlinya said right behind Sheriam, her icy voice making the formality even harder. “It is yours to answer, not to question.” For some reason she had cut her dark hair short; that was the sort of unimportant detail that seemed to loom large in Egwene’s mind. She certainly did not want to think about what this all meant. The ceremonious phrases rolled on in a stately rhythm. Amys and Bair adjusted their shawls and frowned, their irritation beginning to turn to concern.
“Delay not in your coming.” Egwene had always thought Anaiya kindly, but the bluff-faced woman sounded as firm as Carlinya, and not all that much warmer in her formality. “It is yours to obey in haste.”
The three spoke in unison. “It is well to fear the summons of the Hall. It is well to obey in haste and humility, unasking. You are summoned to kneel before the Hall of the Tower and accept their judgment.”
Egwene controlled her breathing, at least enough that she managed not to pant. What was the penalty for what she had done? Not light, she suspected, not if all this ceremony went with it. They were all staring at her. She tried to read something on those Aes Sedai faces. Six showed only ageless serenity, with maybe a hint
of intensity in the eyes. The young Blue had the cool calmness of one who had been Aes Sedai for years, but she could not hide a slight, satisfied smile.
They seemed to be waiting for something. “I will come as soon as I can,” she said. Maybe her stomach was down in her ankles, but she could match them with her voice. No cowardice. She would be Aes Sedai. If they let her, after this. “I don’t know how quickly, though. It’s a long way, and I do not know exactly where Salidar is. Just somewhere along the River Eldar.”
Sheriam exchanged glances with the others. Her dress went from pale blue silk to dark gray, with divided skirts. “We are sure there is a way to make the journey quickly. If the Wise Ones will help. Siuan is sure it will require no more than a day or two if you enter Tel’aran’rhiod physically — ”
“No,” Bair snapped at the same instant Amys said, “We will not teach her such a thing. It was used for evil, it is evil, and whoever does it loses part of themselves.”
“You cannot be sure of this,” Beonin said patiently, “since it seems none of you have ever done it. But if you know of it, you must have some notion of how it is done. We may be able to work out what you do not know.”
Patience was exactly the wrong tone. Amys settled her shawl and stood up even straighter than usual. Bair planted fists on hips with a glare that showed teeth. In a moment there was going to be one of those eruptions the Wise Ones had hinted at. They were going to teach these Aes Sedai a few lessons about what could be done in Tel’aran’rhiod by way of showing them how little they knew. The Aes Sedai faced them quite calmly, full of confidence. Their shawls held steady, but their dresses flickered almost as fast as Egwene’s heartbeat. Only the young Blue’s garb had any semblance of holding, changing just once during that long silence.
She had to stop it. She had to go to Salidar, and it certainly would help nothing if she came as witness to the humiliation of these Aes Sedai. “I know how. I think I do. I’m willing to try.” If it did not work, she could always ride. “But I still have to know where. Better than I do now, anyway.”
Amys and Bair turned their attention from the Aes Sedai to her. Not even Carlinya could have equaled those cold stares, or Morvrin. Egwene’s heart sank after her stomach.
Sheriam immediately began giving directions — so many miles west of this village, so many leagues south of that — but the young Blue cleared her throat and said, “This may be more help.” The voice sounded familiar, but Egwene could not connect it to the face.
Perhaps she had little better control of her clothing than the others — soft green silk became deep blue as she spoke, a high, embroidered neck became a lace ruff in the Tairen style, a cap of pearls appeared on her head — but she did know something of Tel’aran’rhiod. Suddenly a large map hung in the air to one side, with a glowing red dot at one end labeled “Cairhien” in large letters and another as “Salidar” at the other. The map began to expand and change; suddenly the mountains were not just lines, but raised up, the forests took on shades of green and brown, the rivers glittered like blue water in sunlight. It grew until it made a wall hiding the entire side of the Heart. It was like looking down on the world.
Even the Wise Ones were impressed enough to ignore their disapproval, at least until the woman’s Tairen gown turned to yellow silk with a silver-embroidered neckline. The young woman was not interested in them, though. For some reason she stared challengingly at the other Aes Sedai.
“That is splendid, Siuan,” Sheriam said after a moment.
Egwene blinked. Siuan? It must be a woman of the same name. This younger Siuan gave a self-satisfied sniff and a sharp nod very reminiscent of Siuan Sanche, but that was impossible. You’re just trying to put it off, she told herself firmly. “It’s certainly enough for me to find Salidar, whether or not I can . . . ” She glanced at Amys and Bair, so full of silent disapproval they could have been carved of winter stone. “Whether or not I can come here in the flesh. One way or another, I promise I will be in Salidar as soon as I can.” The map vanished. Light, what are they going to do to me?
Her mouth half-formed the question, and Carlinya cut her off sharply, deep in the ceremony again and even harder than before. “Ask not why you are summoned. It is yours to answer, not to question.”
“Delay not in your coming,” Anaiya said. “It is yours to obey in haste.”
The Aes Sedai exchanged glances and vanished so quickly she half-wondered whether they thought she would ask anyway.
That left her alone with Amys and Bair, but when she turned to them, uncertain whether to begin with an explanation or an apology or just a plea for understanding, they vanished too, leaving her there alone, surrounded by the redstone columns, with Callandor glittering beside her. There were no excuses in ji’e’toh.
Exhaling sadly, she stepped out of Tel’aran’rhiod back to her sleeping body.
She woke immediately; waking when you wished was as much a part of a dreamwalker’s training as going to sleep when you wished, and she had promised to go as quickly as she could. Channeling, she lit the lamps, all of them. She would need light. She made an effort to be brisk as she knelt beside one of the small chests that stood against the walls of the tent and began digging out clothes she had not worn since going to the Waste. A part of her life was over, but she would not cry over the loss. She would not.
As soon as Egwene disappeared, Rand stepped out from among the columns. He came here sometimes, to look at Callandor. The first visit had been after Asmodean taught him to invert his weaves. Then he had changed the traps laid around the sa’angreal so only he could see them. If the Prophecies could be believed, whoever drew it out would “follow after” him. He was not sure how much he did believe any longer, but there was no sense taking chances.
Lews Therin rumbled somewhere in the back of his head — he always did when Rand came close to Callandor — but tonight the gleaming crystal sword interested Rand not at all. He stared at where the huge map had hung. Not really a map, there at the end, but something more. What was this place? Was it simple chance that drew him here tonight instead of yesterday, or tomorrow? One of his ta’veren tugs on the Pattern? No matter. Egwene had accepted that summons meekly, and that she would never do if it came from the Tower and Elaida. This Salidar was where her mysterious friends were hiding. Where Elayne was. They had handed themselves to him.
Laughing, he opened a gateway to the reflection of the Palace in Caemlyn.
Chapter 33
Courage to Strengthen
* * *
Kneeling in just her shift, Egwene frowned at the dark green silk riding dress she had worn into the Waste, what seemed a very long time ago. There was so much to do. She had given some time to writing a hasty note and rousing Cowinde from her blankets with instructions to leave it at The Long Man in the morning. It said little beyond the fact that she had to go away — she did not know much more — but she could not just disappear without telling Gawyn. A few of the phrases made her blush to remember — saying she loved him was one thing, but actually asking him to wait! — yet she had taken care of him as far as was possible. Now she had to ready herself, and she hardly knew for what.
The tent flap was thrown back, and Amys entered, then Bair and Sorilea. They stood in a line, looking down at her. Three faces stern with disapproval. It was very hard not to clutch the dress to her breast; in her shift, she felt very much at a disadvantage. In armor, she would have been at a disadvantage. A matter of knowing she was in the wrong. She was surprised it had taken them so long to come.
She took a deep breath. “If you’ve come to punish me, I don’t have time for carrying water or digging holes or any of it. I am sorry, but I said I would come as soon as I can, and I think they mean to count minutes.”
Amys’ pale eyebrows rose in surprise, and a puzzled look passed between Sorilea and Bair. “How should we punish you?” Amys asked. “You stopped being a pupil the moment your sisters summoned you. You must go to them as Aes Sedai.”
Egwe
ne covered a wince by examining the riding dress again. It had gathered remarkably few wrinkles for having been rolled up in a chest all these months. She made herself face them again. “I know you’re angry with me, and you have cause — ”
“Angry?” Sorilea said. “We are not angry. I thought you knew us better.” It was true she did not sound angry, yet censure still painted all their faces, including hers.
Egwene stared from one to another, especially Amys and Bair. “But you told me how wrong you think what I’m going to do is; you said I must not even think about it. I said I wouldn’t, and then I went ahead and worked out how to do it.”
Startlingly, a smile bloomed on Sorilea’s leathery face. Her multitude of bracelets clattered as she shifted her shawl in a satisfied manner. “You see? I told you she would understand. She could be Aiel.”
Some of the tightness faded from Amys, a little more from Bair, and Egwene understood. They were not angry that she meant to try entering Tel’aran’rhiod in the flesh. That was wrong in their eyes, but you had to do what you felt you had to do, and even if this worked it incurred no obligation except to herself. Not angry at all really, not yet. What dug at them was her lie. Her stomach fluttered. The lie she had admitted. Maybe her smallest lie.
Another deep breath was required to prime her throat for the words. “I lied about other things, too. I entered Tel’aran’rhiod alone after I promised I would not.” Amys’ face darkened again. Sorilea, not a dreamwalker, only shook her head ruefully. “I promised to obey as a pupil, but when you said the World of Dreams was too dangerous after I was injured, I went anyway.” Bair folded her arms, expressionless. Sorilea muttered something about foolish girls, but it hardly sounded heated. A third long breath; this would be the hardest to say. Her middle was not fluttering anymore; it danced so hard she was surprised she was not shaking. “The worst of all is, I am not Aes Sedai. I’m only Accepted. You might call me an apprentice. I will not be raised to Aes Sedai for years, if I ever am, now.”
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