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.