"Javindhra," Pevara said, stepping closet. "You heard what he said. We now need permission to leave. This place is turning into a cage."
"I think, we're safe," Javindhra said, waving a hand. "He doesn't know we have gateways."
"So far as we know," Pevara said.
"If you order it, I'm sute the others will go," Javindhra said. "But I intended to continue to use the opportunity to learn."
Pevara took a deep bteath. Insufferable woman! Surely she wasn't going so fat as to ignote Pevara's leadership of the group? Aftet the Highest herself had placed Pevara in charge? Light, but Javindhra was growing erratic.
They parted without another word, Pevara spinning and walking back down the path. She kept her temper with difficulty. That last statement had been close to outright defiance! Well, if she wanted to disobey and remain, so be it. It was time to be returning to the White Tower.
Men in black coats walked all around her. Many nodded with those too-obsequious grins of feigned respect. Her weeks here had not done anything to make her more comfortable around these men. She would make a few of them Warders. Three. She could handle three, couldn't she?
Those dark expressions, like the eyes of executioners while waiting for the next neck to line up before them. The way some of them muttered to themselves, or jumped at shadows, or held their heads and looked dazed. She stood in the very pit of madness itself, and it made het skin creep as if covered in caterpillars. She couldn't help quickening her pace. No, she thought. / can't leave Javindhra here, not without trying one more time. Pevara would explain to the others, give them the otder to leave. Then she'd ask them, Tarna first, to approach Javindhra. Surely their united arguments would convince het.
Pevata reached the huts they had been given. She purposely did not look to the side, toward the line of small buildings where the bonded Aes Sedai made their homes. She'd heard what some of them were doing, trying to control their Asha'man using . . . various methods. That made her skin crawl, too. While she thought most Reds had too harsh an opinion of men, what those women did crossed the line with a heedless leap.
She stepped inside her hut, and there found Tarna at the desk wtiting a letter. The Aes Sedai had to share their huts, and Pevara had picked Tarna specifically. Pevara might have been made leader of this group, but Tarna was Keeper of the Chronicles. The politics of this particular expedition were very delicate, with so many influential members and so many opinions.
Last night, Tarna had agreed that it was time to leave. She'd wotk with Pevara on going to Javindhra.
"Taim has locked down the Black Tower," Pevara said calmly, sitting on her bed in the small, circular chamber. "We now need his permission to leave. He said it offhandedly, as if it weren't really meant to stop us. Just a rule he'd forgotten to give us a blanket exception to."
"Likely, that's just what it was," Tarna said. "I'm sure it's nothing."
Pevata fell still. What? She tried again. "Javindhra still irrationally thinks he will change his mind on letting us bond full Asha'man. It's time to bond Dedicated and leave, but she's hinted that she'll remain regardless of my intentions. I want you to speak to het."
"Actually," Tarna said, continuing to write, "I've been thinking on what we discussed last night. Perhaps I was hasty. There is much to learn here, and there is the matter of the rebels outside. If we leave, they will bond Asha'man, which should not be allowed."
The woman looked up, and Pevara froze. There was something differ-
ent in Tama's eyes, something cold. She'd always been a distant one, but this was worse.
Tarna smiled, a grimace that looked completely unnatural on her face. Like the smile on the lips of a corpse. She turned back to her writing.
Something is very, very wrong here, Pevara thought. "Well, you may be right," she found herself saying. Her mouth worked, though her mind reeled. "This expedition was your suggestion, after all. I will think on it further. If you'll excuse me."
Tarna waved ambivalently. Pevara stood, years as an Aes Sedai keeping her profound worry from showing in her posture. She stepped outside, then walked eastward, along the unfinished wall. Yes, guard stations had been set up regularly. Earlier this morning, those hadn't been manned. Now they were, with men who could channel. One of those men could strike her dead before she could respond. She couldn't see their weaves, and she couldn't strike first, because of her oaths.
She turned and walked to a small stand of trees, a place that was to become a garden. Inside, she sat down on a stump, breathing deeply. The coldness almost lifelessness she'd seen in Tarna's eyes still chilled her.
Pevara had been ordered by the Highest not to risk gateways unless the situation were dire. This seemed like a dire situation to her. She embraced the Source and wove the proper weave.
The weave fell apart the moment she completed it. No gateway formed. Eyes wide, she tried again, but got the same result. She tried other weaves, and they worked, but gateways failed every time.
Her chill became frost within her. She was trapped.
They all were.
Perrin clasped hands with Mat. "Good luck, my friend."
Mat grinned, tugging down the broad brim of his dark hat. "Luck? I hope this all comes down to luck. I'm good with luck."
Mat carried a bulging pack over one shoulder, as did the bony, gnarled man that Mat had introduced as Noal. Thom had his harp on his back and a similar pack. Perrin still wasn't clear on what they were bringing. Mat only planned to be at the tower for a few days, so there was no need for a lot of supplies.
The small group stood on the Traveling ground ourside Perrin's camp. Behind them, Perrin's people shouted back and forth, breaking down the camp. None had any inkling of how important this day could prove. Moiraine. Moiraine was alive. Light, let it be so.
"Are you certain I can't convince you to take more help?" Perrin asked.