Perrin smiled and sent himself there. The wounded wolf, still trailing blood, lay beside the object. It was obviously some sort of ter’angreal. It appeared to be made of dozens upon dozens of fine, wirelike bits of metal woven together like a braid. It was about two handspans long, and was driven point first into the soft earth.
Perrin pulled it from the ground. The dome didn’t vanish. He turned the spike over in his hand, but had no idea how to make the dome stop. He willed the spike to change into something else, a stick, and was shocked when he was rebuffed. The object actually seemed to push his mind away.
It is here in its reality, Sparks sent. The sending tried to convey something, that the item was somehow more real than most things in the dream world.
Perrin didn’t have time to wonder about it. First priority was to move the dome, if he could, away from where his people camped. He sent himself to the edge where he’d entered the dome.
As he’d hoped, the center of the dome moved with him. He was at the place where he’d entered, but the edge of the dome had changed positions, the center falling wherever Perrin was standing. The dome still dominated the sky, extending far in every direction.
Young Bull, Sparks sent. I am free. The wrongness is gone.
Go, Perrin sent. I’ll take this and get rid of it. Each of you, go a different direction and howl. Confuse Slayer.
The wolves responded. A part of Perrin, the hunter inside of him, was frustrated at not having been able to defeat Slayer directly. But this was more important.
He tried to shift to someplace distant, but it didn’t work. It appeared that even though he was holding the ter’angreal, he was still bound by the dome’s rules.
So, instead, he shifted as far as he could. Neald had said it was about four leagues from their camp to the perimeter, so Perrin shifted that far to the north, then did so again, and again. The enormous dome moved with him, its center always appearing directly over his head.
He would take the spike someplace safe, someplace where Slayer couldn’t find it.
Chapter 36
An Invitation
Egwene appeared in Tel’aran’rhiod wearing a pure white gown sewn with golden thread at the seams and in the embroidery, tiny bits of obsidian—polished but unshaped—sewn in gold along the trim of the bodice. A terribly impractical dress to own, but that didn’t matter here.
She was in her chambers, where she’d wanted to appear. She sent herself to the hallway outside the Yellow Ajah’s quarters. Nynaeve was there, arms folded, her dress a far more sensible tan and brown.
“I want you to be very careful,” Egwene said. “You’re the only one here who has faced one of the Forsaken directly, and you also have more experience with Tel’aran’rhiod than the others. If Mesaana arrives, you are to lead the attack.”
“I think I can manage that,” Nynaeve said, the corners of her mouth rising. Yes, she could manage it. Holding Nynaeve back from attacking, that would have been the difficult task.
Egwene nodded, and Nynaeve vanished. She’d remain hidden near the Hall of the Tower, watching for Mesaana or Black sisters coming to spy on the decoy meeting happening there. Egwene sent herself to another place in the city, a hall where the true meeting would take place between herself, the Wise Ones and the Windfinders.
Tar Valon had several meeting halls used for musical performances or for gatherings. This one, known as the Musician’s Way, was perfect for her needs. It was precisely decorated with leatherleaf wood paneling carved to look like a forest of trees lining the walls. The chairs were of a matching wood, sung by Ogier, each one a thing of beauty. They were arranged in the round, facing a central podium. The domed ceiling was inset with marble carved to look like stars in the sky. The ornamentation was remarkable; beautiful without being gaudy.
The Wise Ones had already arrived—Amys, Bair and Melaine, whose belly was great with the later stages of pregnancy. This amphitheater had a raised platform along one side where the Wise Ones could sit comfortably on the floor, yet those seated in the chairs would not look down at them.
Leane, Yukiri and Seaine sat in chairs facing the Wise Ones, each wearing one of Elayne’s copied dream ter’angreal, looking shadowy and insubstantial. Elayne was supposed to be there, too, but she had warned she might have trouble channeling enough to enter Tel’aran’rhiod.
The Aes Sedai and Wise Ones inspected one another with a nearly palpable air of hostility. The Aes Sedai considered the Wise Ones to be poorly trained wilders; the Wise Ones, in turn, thought the Aes Sedai full of themselves.
As Egwene arrived, a group of women with dark skin and black hair appeared in the very center of the room. The Windfinders glanced about suspiciously. Siuan had said, from her time teaching them, that the Sea Folk had legends about Tel’aran’rhiod and its dangers. That hadn’t stopped the Windfinders from learning everything they could about the World of Dreams the moment they discovered that it was real.
At the head of the Windfinders was a tall, slender woman with narrow eyes and a long neck, numerous medallions on the fine chain connecting her nose to her left ear. That would be Shielyn, one of those Nynaeve had told Egwene about. The three other Windfinders included a dignified woman with white locks of hair woven among her black. That would be Renaile, according to the letters they’d sent and Nynaeve’s instruction. Egwene had been led to believe she’d be foremost among them, but she seemed subservient to the others. Had she lost her place as Windfinder to the Mistress of the Ships?
“Welcome,” Egwene said to them. “Please, sit.”
“We will stand,” Shielyn said. Her voice was tense.
“Who are these ones, Egwene al’Vere?” Amys asked. “Children should not be visiting Tel’aran’rhiod. It is not an abandoned sand-badger’s den to be explored.”
“Children?” Shielyn asked.
“You are children here, wetlander.”
“Amys, please,” Egwene cut in. “I lent them ter’angreal to come here. It was necessary.”
“We could have met outside the World of Dreams,” Bair said. “Choosing the middle of a battlefield might have been safer.”
Indeed, the Windfinders were very unfamiliar with the workings of Tel’aran’rhiod. Their bright clothing periodically changed colors—in fact, as Egwene watched, Renaile’s blouse vanished entirely. Egwene found herself blushing, though Elayne had mentioned that when on the waves, Sea Folk men and women both worked wearing not a stitch above the waist. The blouse was back a moment later. Their jewelry also seemed in almost constant flux.
“There are reasons I have done what I have done, Amys,” Egwene said, striding forward and seating herself. “Shielyn din Sabura Night Waters and her sisters have been told of the dangers of this place, and have accepted responsibility for their own safety.”
“A little like giving a firebrand and a cask of oil to a child,” Melaine muttered, “and claiming you’ve given him responsibility for his own safety.”
“Must we endure this squabbling, Mother?” Yukiri asked.
Egwene took a calming breath. “Please, you are leaders of your separate peoples, women with reputations for great wisdom and acuity. Can we not at least be civil with one another?” Egwene turned to the Sea Folk. “Windfinder Shielyn, you have accepted my invitation. Surely you will not now reject my hospitality by standing through the entire meeting?”
The woman hesitated. She had a proud air to her; recent interaction between the Aes Sedai and the Sea Folk had made her bold. Egwene shoved down a stab of anger; she did not like the details of the bargain regarding the Bowl of Winds. Nynaeve and Elayne should have known better. They—
No. Elayne and Nynaeve had done their best, and had been under unusual strain. Besides, bargaining with the Sea Folk was said to be only one step safer than bargaining with the Dark One himself.
Shielyn finally gave a curt nod, though her blouse changed colors several times while she considered, settling on crimson, and her jewelry kept vanishing and reappearing. “Very w
ell. We are indebted to you for the gift of this place, and will agree to your hospitality.” She sat down in a chair apart from Egwene and the other Aes Sedai, and those with her did as well.
Egwene released a soft breath of relief and summoned several small tables with cups of warm, fragrant tea. The Windfinders jumped, though the Wise Ones didn’t bat an eye. Amys did, however, reach for her cup and change the rose-blossom tea to something with a much darker cast.
“Perhaps you will tell us the purpose of this meeting,” Bair said, sipping her tea. The Sea Folk did not pick up theirs, though the Aes Sedai did begin to drink.
“We have guessed it already,” Shielyn said. “This confrontation is inevitable, though I wish to the winds that it were not so.”
“Well, speak up, then,” Yukiri said. “What is it about?”
Shielyn focused on Egwene. “For many seasons and tides we hid the nature of our Windfinding from the Aes Sedai. The White Tower inhales, but does not exhale—that which is brought in is never allowed to leave. Now that you know of us, you want us, for you cannot stand the thought of women channeling outside of your grasp.”
The Aes Sedai frowned. Egwene caught Melaine nodding in agreement. The words were true enough, though only one side of the issue. If they’d known how useful White Tower training would be, and how important it was for the people to know that channelers were being cared for and trained…
However, that thinking felt hollow to her. The Sea Folk had their own traditions, and made fine use of their channelers without regulation from the White Tower. Egwene hadn’t spent as much time with the Sea Folk as Nynaeve or Elayne, but she’d had detailed reports. The Windfinders were unskilled with many weaves, but their abilities with specific weaves—particularly those focusing on Air—were far more advanced than those practiced by Aes Sedai.
These women deserved the truth. Was that not what the White Tower, and the Three Oaths, stood for? “You are correct, Shielyn din Sabura Night Waters,” Egwene said. “And your people may have been wise to keep their abilities hidden from the Aes Sedai.”
Yukiri gasped, a quite un-Aes Sedai reaction. Shielyn froze, chain from her ear to nose tinkling softly as the medallions on it hit together. Her blouse changed to blue. “What?”
“You may have been wise,” Egwene said. “I would not presume to second-guess the Amyrlins who came before me, but there is an argument to be made. Perhaps we have been overly zealous to control women who can wield the One Power. It is obvious that the Windfinders have done well in training themselves. I should think that the White Tower could learn much from you.”
Shielyn settled back, scanning Egwene’s face. Egwene met the woman’s eyes and kept her expression calm. See that I am resolute, she thought. See that I mean what I say. That is not flattery. I am Aes Sedai. I speak the truth.
“Well,” Shielyn said. “Perhaps we could make a bargain that would allow us to train your women.”
Egwene smiled. “I was hoping that you would see the advantage in that.” To the side, the three other Aes Sedai regarded Egwene with measured hostility. Well, they would see. The best way to gain the upper hand was to shake expectations like rindwater beetles in a jar.
“And yet,” Egwene said, “you acknowledge that there are things the White Tower knows that you do not. Otherwise you would not have striven to bargain for our women to train your Windfinders.”
“We will not rescind that agreement,” Shielyn said quickly. Her blouse turned pale yellow.
“Oh, I expect nothing of the sort,” Egwene said. “It is well that you now have Aes Sedai teachers. Those who bargained with you achieved something unexpected.”
True words, every one. However, the way she said them implied something more—that Egwene had wanted the Aes Sedai to be sent to the Sea Folk ships. Shielyn’s frown deepened, and she sat back in her chair. Egwene hoped she was considering whether her people’s grand victory over the Bowl of the Winds had been a setup from the start.
“If anything,” Egwene continued, “I feel that the previous agreement was not ambitious enough.” She turned to the Wise Ones. “Amys, would you agree that the Aes Sedai have knowledge of weaves that the Wise Ones do not?”
“It would be foolish not to admit Aes Sedai expertise in these areas,” Amys said carefully. “They spend much time practicing their weaves. But there are things we know that they do not.”
“Yes,” Egwene said. “During my time training beneath the Wise Ones, I learned more about leadership than I did during my time in the White Tower. You also gave me very helpful training in Tel’aran’rhiod and Dreaming.”
“All right,” Bair said, “out with it. We’ve been chasing a three-legged lizard this entire conversation, poking it with a stick to see if it will move any further.”
“We need to share what we know with one another,” Egwene said. “We three groups—women who can channel—need to form an alliance.”
“With the White Tower in control, I assume,” Shielyn said.
“All I am saying,” Egwene replied, “is that there is wisdom in sharing and learning from others. Wise Ones, I would have Accepted from the White Tower be sent to train with you. It would be particularly useful to have you train them to master Tel’aran’rhiod.”
It was unlikely that another Dreamer, such as Egwene, would be discovered among the Aes Sedai, though she could hope. The Talent was very rare. Still, it would be advantageous to have some sisters trained in Tel’aran’rhiod, even if they did have to enter with ter’angreal.
“Windfinders,” Egwene continued. “I would send women to you as well, particularly those skilled in Air, to learn to call the winds as you do.”
“Life for an apprentice Windfinder is not easy,” Shielyn said. “I think your women would find it very different from the soft life in the White Tower.”
Egwene’s backside still remembered the pain of her “soft” life in the White Tower. “I do not doubt that it will be challenging,” she said, “but I do not doubt that it would be very helpful for that very reason.”
“Well, I suspect this could be arranged,” Shielyn said, leaning forward, sounding eager. “There would have to be payment, of course.”
“An equal one,” Egwene said. “In allowing you to send some of your apprentices to the White Tower to train with us.”
“We already send women to you.”
Egwene sniffed. “Token sacrifices sent so we will not become suspicious of your Windfinders. Your women often seclude themselves, or come reluctantly. I would have that practice stop—there is no reason to deny potential Windfinders to your people.”
“Well, what would be the difference?” Shielyn asked.
“The women you send would be allowed to return to you after their training,” Egwene said. “Wise Ones, I would have Aiel apprentices sent to us as well. Not reluctantly, and not to become Aes Sedai, but to train and learn our ways. They, too, would be allowed to return, should they desire it, once they are finished.”
“It would have to be more than that,” Amys said. “I worry what would happen to women who become too accustomed to soft wetlander ways.”
“Surely you wouldn’t want to compel them—” Egwene began.
Bair cut in. “They’d still be apprentice Wise Ones, Egwene al’Vere. Children who need to complete their training. And that is assuming we agree to this plan; something about it unsettles my stomach, like too much food after a day of fasting.”
“If we let the Aes Sedai set hooks into our apprentices,” Melaine said, “they will not soon be pulled free.”
“Do you want them to be?” Egwene said. “Do you see what you have in me, Melaine? An Amyrlin Seat who was trained by the Aiel? What sacrifice would it be worth to your people to have more like me? Aes Sedai who understand ji’e’toh and the Three-fold Land, who respect Wise Ones rather than seeing them as rivals or wilders?”
The three Aiel settled back at that, looking at one another, troubled.
“And what of you, Shielyn?
” Egwene said. “What would it be worth to your people to have an Amyrlin Seat who, having trained with you, regards you as friends and who respects your ways?”
“That could be valuable,” Shielyn admitted. “Assuming the women you send to us have a better temperament than those whom we have seen so far. I have yet to meet an Aes Sedai who could not benefit from a few days hanging from the high mast.”
“That is because you insisted on getting Aes Sedai,” Egwene said, “who are set in their ways. If we were to send you Accepted instead, they would be much more pliable.”
“Instead?” Shielyn said immediately. “This is not the bargain we were discussing.”
“It could be,” Egwene replied. “If we allow Sea Folk channelers to return to you instead of requiring that they stay in the Tower, you will no longer have such a strong need of the Aes Sedai teachers.”
“This must be a different agreement.” Shielyn shook her head. “And it will not be a bargain to make lightly. Aes Sedai are serpents, like those rings you wear.”
“What if I offer to include the dream ter’angreal you were loaned?” Egwene asked.
Shielyn glanced at her hand where, in the real world, she would be holding the small plate that—with a channeled bit of Spirit—let a woman enter Tel’aran’rhiod. Egwene hadn’t given them the ter’angreal Elayne had finally perfected that let one enter without needing to channel, of course. Those were more versatile, and therefore more powerful. Best to keep those a secret.
“In Tel’aran’rhiod,” Egwene said, leaning forward, “you can go anywhere. You can meet those who are distant without needing to Travel there, can learn what is hidden, and can confer in secret.”
“This is a dangerous thing you suggest, Egwene al’Vere,” Amys said sternly. “To let them loose would be like letting a group of wetlander children run wild in the Three-fold Land.”
“You cannot keep this place for yourself, Amys,” Egwene said.
“We are not so selfish,” the Wise One said. “It is their safety I speak of.”
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