Min hesitated before answering. “Danger. You are all in some kind of danger. Or you will be, very soon. I can’t make it out, but it is danger.”
“You see,” Nynaeve said to the two girls sitting on the bed. “You must take care. We all must. You must both promise not to channel again without someone to guide you.”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” Egwene said.
Elayne nodded eagerly. “Yes. Let’s talk about something else. Min, if you put on a dress, I’ll wager Gawyn would ask you to go walking with him. You know he’s been looking at you, but I think the breeches and the man’s coat put him off.”
“I dress the way I like, and I won’t change for a lord, even if he is your brother.” Min spoke absently, still squinting at them and frowning; it was a conversation they had had before. “Sometimes it is useful to pass as a boy.”
“No one who looks twice believes you are a boy.” Elayne smiled.
Egwene was uncomfortable. Elayne was forcing a semblance of gaiety, Min was hardly paying attention, and Nynaeve looked as if she wanted to warn them again.
When the door swung open once more, Egwene bounded to her feet to close it, grateful for something to do besides watch the others pretend. Before she reached it, though, a dark-eyed Aes Sedai with her blond hair done in a multitude of braids stepped into the room. Egwene blinked in surprise, as much at it being any Aes Sedai as at Liandrin. She had not heard that Liandrin had returned to the White Tower, but beyond that, novices were sent for if an Aes Sedai wanted them; it could mean no good, a sister coming herself.
The room was crowded with five women in it. Liandrin paused to adjust her red-fringed shawl, eyeing them. Min did not move, but Elayne rose, and the three standing curtsied, though Nynaeve barely flexed her knee. Egwene did not think Nynaeve would ever grow used to having others in authority over her.
Liandrin’s eyes settled on Nynaeve. “And why are you here, in the novices’ quarters, child?” Her tone was ice.
“I am visiting with friends,” Nynaeve said in a tight voice. After a moment she added a belated, “Liandrin Sedai.”
“The Accepted, they can have no friends among the novices. This you should have learned by this time, child. But it is as well that I find you here. You and you”—her finger stabbed at Elayne and Min—“will go.”
“I will return later.” Min rose casually, making a great show of being in no hurry to obey, and strolled by Liandrin with a grin, of which Liandrin took no notice at all. Elayne gave Egwene and Nynaeve a worried look before she dropped a curtsy and left.
After Elayne closed the door behind her, Liandrin stood studying Egwene and Nynaeve. Egwene began to fidget under the scrutiny, but Nynaeve held herself straight, with only a little heightening of her color.
“You two are from the same village as the boys who traveled with Moiraine. Is it not so?” Liandrin said suddenly.
“Do you have some word of Rand?” Egwene asked eagerly. Liandrin arched an eyebrow at her. “Forgive me, Aes Sedai. I forget myself.”
“Have you word of them?” Nynaeve said, just short of a demand. The Accepted had no rule about not speaking to an Aes Sedai until spoken to.
“You have concern for them. That is good. They are in danger, and you might be able to help them.”
“How do you know they’re in trouble?” There was no doubt about the demand in Nynaeve’s voice this time.
Liandrin’s rosebud mouth tightened, but her tone did not change. “Though you are not aware of it, Moiraine has sent letters to the White Tower concerning you. Moiraine Sedai, she worries about you, and about your young . . . friends. These boys, they are in danger. Do you wish to help them, or leave them to their fate?”
“Yes,” Egwene said, at the same time that Nynaeve said, “What kind of trouble? Why do you care about helping them?” Nynaeve glanced at the red fringe on Liandrin’s shawl. “And I thought you didn’t like Moiraine.”
“Do not presume too much, child,” Liandrin said sharply. “To be Accepted is not to be a sister. Accepted and novices alike listen when a sister speaks, and do as they are told.” She drew a breath and went on; her tone was coldy serene again, but angry white spots marred her cheeks. “Someday, I am sure, you will serve a cause, and you will learn then that to serve it you must work even with those whom you dislike. I tell you I have worked with many with whom I would not share a room if it were left to me alone. Would you not work alongside the one you hated worst, if it would save your friends?”
Nynaeve nodded reluctantly. “But you still haven’t told us what kind of danger they’re in. Liandrin Sedai.”
“The danger comes from Shayol Ghul. They are hunted, as I understand they once before were. If you will come with me, some dangers, at least, may be eliminated. Do not ask how, for I cannot tell you, but I tell you flatly it is so.”
“We will come, Liandrin Sedai,” Egwene said.
“Come where?” Nynaeve said. Egwene shot her an exasperated look.
“Toman Head.”
Egwene’s mouth fell open, and Nynaeve muttered, “There’s a war on Toman Head. Does this danger have something to do with Artur Hawkwing’s armies?”
“You believe rumors, child? But even if they were true, is that enough to stop you? I thought you called these men friends.” A twist to Liandrin’s words said she would never do the same.
“We will come,” Egwene said. Nynaeve opened her mouth again, but Egwene went right on. “We will go, Nynaeve. If Rand needs our help—and Mat, and Perrin—we have to give it.”