Knife of Dreams

Chapter Thirty-One The House on Full Moon Street

They must stay together,” Elayne said firmly. “The two of you shouldn’t be out by yourselves, for that matter. Always three or four together anywhere in Caemlyn. That’s the only way to be safe.” Just two of the mirrored stand-lamps were lit, six flames filling the sitting room with a dim light and the scent of lilies—so much of the lamp oil had gone bad that it was always perfumed, now—but a crackling fire on the hearth was beginning to take away some of the early hour’s coolness.

“There are times a woman wants a little privacy,” Sumeko replied calmly, as if yet another Kinswoman had not just died from wanting privacy. Her voice was calm, at least, but plump hands smoothed her dark blue skirts.

“If you won’t put the fear of the Light into them, Sumeko, I will,” Alise said, her usually mild face stern. She looked the elder of the two, with touches of gray in her hair compared to the glossy black hair that fell below Sumeko’s stout shoulders, yet she was the younger by better than two hundred years. Alise had been intrepid when Ebou Dar fell and they were forced to flee the Seanchan, but her hands moved on her brown skirts, too.

It was long past the bedtime that Essande’s niece Melfane had decreed, but tired as she was all the time, once Elayne woke, she could never get back to sleep, and warm goat’s milk did not help. Warm goat’s milk tasted worse than cool. She was going to make Rand bloody al’Thor drink warm bloody goat’s milk till it came out of his ears! Right after she found out what had hurt him badly enough that she sensed a small jolt of pain while everything else in that small knot in the back of her head that was him remained as vague as a stone. It had been all a stone again ever since, so he was all right, yet something had hurt him deeply for her to sense anything at all. And why was he Traveling so often? One day, he was far to the southeast, the next to the northwest and even more distant, the day after that somewhere else. Was he running from whoever had hurt him? But she had her own worries at the moment.

Unable to sleep and restless, she had dressed herself in the first thing that came to hand, a dark gray riding dress, and gone for a walk to enjoy the stillness of the palace in the small hours of the morning, when even the servants were abed and flickering stand-lamps were the only things that moved in the hallways aside from her. Her and her bodyguards, but she was learning to ignore their presence. She did enjoy the solitude, until the two women encountered her and delivered the sad news that would have awaited sunrise otherwise. She had brought them back to her smaller sitting room to discuss the matter behind a ward against listeners.

Sumeko shifted her bulk in her armchair to glare at Alise. “Reanne let you press boundaries, but as Eldest, I expect—”

“You’re not Eldest, Sumeko,” the smaller woman said coolly. “You have the authority here, but by the Rule, the Knitting Circle consists of the thirteen eldest of us in Ebou Dar. We aren’t in Ebou Dar any longer, so there is no Knitting Circle.”

Sumeko’s round face grew hard as granite. “At least you admit I have the authority.”

“And I expect you to use it to prevent any more of us being murdered. Suggesting isn’t enough, Sumeko, no matter how strongly you say you suggest. It isn’t enough.”

“Arguing will get us nowhere.” Elayne said. “I know you re on edge. I am, too.” Light, three women murdered with the One Power in the last ten days, and very likely seven more before that, were enough to put an anvil on edge. “But snapping at each other is the worst thing we can do. Sumeko, you need to put your foot down. I don’t care how much anyone wants privacy, no one can be by herself for a minute. Alise, use your persuasion.” Persuasion was not exactly the word. Alise did not persuade. She simply expected people to do as she said, and they nearly always did. “Convince the others that Sumeko is right. Between the two of you, you have to—”

The door opened to admit Deni, who closed it again behind her and bowed, one hand on her sword hilt, the other on her long cudgel. The red-lacquered breastplates and helmets, trimmed in white, had been delivered only yesterday, and the stocky woman had been smiling ever since she donned hers, but she looked solemn behind the face-bars now. “Pardon for interrupting, my Lady, but there’s an Aes Sedai here demanding to see you. A Red, by her shawl. I told her you were likely sleeping, but she was ready to come in and wake you herself.”

A Red. There were reports of Reds in the city from time to time, though not so often as once—most Aes Sedai in the city went without their shawls, concealing their Ajahs—yet what would a Red want with her? Surely they all knew by now that she stood with Egwene and against Elaida. Unless someone was finally trying to bring her to book for the bargain with the Sea Folk.

“Tell her that I’m—”

The door opened again, bumping Deni’s back, pushing her out of the way. The woman who entered, vine-woven shawl draped along her arms so the long red fringe displayed itself to advantage, was tall and slim and copper-skinned. She would have been pretty, except that her mouth was compressed until her full lips seemed thin. Her riding dress was so dark it might have been black, but the pale light of the stand-mirrors picked up hints of red, and the divided skirts were slashed with brighter red. Duhara Basaheen never made any secret of her Ajah. Once, Sumeko and Alise would have been on their feet and curtsying for an Aes Sedai in a flash, but now they remained seated, studying her. Deni, normally placid, in appearance at least, scowled and fingered her cudgel.

“I see the tales of you gathering wilders are true,” Duhara said. “A great pity, that. The two of you get out. I wish to speak with Elayne privately. If you’re wise, you will leave tonight, heading in different directions, and tell any others like you to do the same. The White Tower looks amiss on wilders gathering together. When the Tower looks on something amiss, thrones have been known to tremble.” Neither Sumeko nor Alise moved. Alise actually arched an eyebrow.

“They can stay,” Elayne said coldly. With the Power in her, her emotions were not bouncing. They were steady in an icy anger. “They are welcome here. You, on the other hand… Elaida tried to have me kidnapped, Duhara. Kidnapped! You can leave.”

“A poor welcome, Elayne, when I came to the palace as soon as I arrived. And after a journey that would be as torturous to describe as it was to endure. Andor has always had good relations with the Tower. The Tower intends to see they remain good. Are you sure you want these wilders to hear everything I have to say to you? Very well. If you insist.” Gliding to one of the carved sideboards, she wrinkled her nose at the silver pitcher holding goat’s milk and poured herself a cup of dark wine before taking a chair across from Elayne. Deni made a move as if to try dragging her out, but Elayne shook her head. The Domani sister ignored the Kinswomen as if they had ceased to exist. “The woman who drugged you has been punished, Elayne. She was flogged in front of her own shop with everyone in her village watching.” Duhara sipped her wine, waiting for Elayne to respond.

She said nothing. She knew very well that Ronde Macura had been flogged for failure rather than for feeding her that vile tea, but saying so would make Duhara wonder how she knew, and that might lead to things that needed to remain hidden.

The silence stretched, and finally the other woman went on. “You must know that the White Tower wants very much for you to mount the Lion Throne. To achieve that end, Elaida has sent me to be your advisor.”

In spite of herself, Elayne laughed. Elaida had sent her an advisor? It was ludicrous! “I have Aes Sedai to advise me when I need advice, Duhara. You must know I oppose Elaida. I wouldn’t accept a pair of stockings from that woman.”

“Your so-called advisors are rebels, child.” Duhara said chidingly, with a heavy dose of distaste on the word “rebels.” She gestured with the silver winecup. “Why do you think you have so many Houses opposing you, so many standing aside? They surely know you don’t really have the backing of the Tower. With me as your advisor, that changes. I might be able to put the crown on your head inside a week. At most, it should take no more than a month or two.”

Elayne met the other woman’s gaze with a level gaze of her own. Her hands wanted to make fists, but she kept them still in her lap. “Even were that so, I’d refuse you. I expect to hear any day that Elaida has been deposed. The White Tower will be whole again, and no one will be able to claim I lack its backing then.”

Duhara studied her wine for a moment, her face a mask of Aes Sedai serenity. “It won’t be entirely smooth going for you,” she said as if Elayne had not spoken. “This is the part I thought you wouldn’t want the wilders to hear. And that guard. Does she think I’m going to attack you? No matter. Once you have the crown firmly on your head, you will have to appoint a regent, because you must return to the Tower then, to complete your training and eventually be tested for the shawl. You need have no fear of being birched as a runaway. Elaida accepts that Siuan Sanche ordered you to leave the Tower. Your pretense of being Aes Sedai is another matter. That, you will pay for with tears.” Sumeko and Alise stirred, and Duhara took notice of them again. “Ah, you didn’t know that Elayne is really only one of the Accepted?”

Elayne rose and stared down at Duhara. Usually, someone seated held the advantage over someone standing, but she made her stare hard and her voice harder. She wanted to slap the woman’s face! “I was raised Aes Sedai by Egwene al’Vere on the day she herself was raised Amyrlin. I chose the Green Ajah and was admitted. Don’t you ever say I’m not Aes Sedai, Duhara. Burn me if I’ll stand still for it!”

Duhara’s mouth pinched down till her lips seemed a gash. “Think, and you will see the reality of your situation,” she said finally. “Think hard, Elayne. A blind woman could see how much you need me, and the White Tower’s blessing. We will talk again later. Have someone show me to my rooms. I am more than ready for my bed.”

“You’ll have to find a room at an inn, Duhara. Every bed in the palace already has three or four people sleeping in it.” If dozens of beds had been free, she would not have offered Duhara one. Turning her back, she walked to the fireplace and stood warming her hands. The gilded pendulum clock on the scroll-carved marble mantel chimed three times. Perhaps as many hours remained till sunrise. “Deni, have someone escort Duhara to the gates.”

“You won’t fend me off so easily, child. No one fends off the White Tower easily. Think, and you’ll see I’m your only hope.” Silk whisked against silk as she left the room, and the door clicked shut behind her. It seemed very possible Duhara would cause trouble trying to make herself needed, but one problem at a time.

“Did she put doubts in your minds?” Elayne said, turning from the fire.

“None,” Sumeko replied. “Vandene and the other two accept you as Aes Sedai, so you must be.” Conviction was strong in her voice, but then, she had reason to want to believe. If Elayne were a liar, her dreams of returning to the Tower, of joining the Yellow Ajah, died.

“But this Duhara believes she was speaking the truth.” Alise spread her hands. “I’m not saying I doubt you. I don’t. But the woman believes.”

Elayne sighed. “The situation is… complicated.” That was like saying water was moist. “I am Aes Sedai, but Duhara doesn’t believe. She can’t, because that would be admitting Egwene al’Vere truly is the Amyrlin Seat, and Duhara won’t do that until Elaida has been brought down.” She hoped Duhara would believe then. Accept, at least. The Tower had to be made whole. “Sumeko, you will order the Kinswomen to stay in groups? Always?” The stout woman muttered that she would. Unlike Reanne, Sumeko had no flair for leadership, or liking for it, either. A pity no older Kinswoman had appeared to take the burden from her. “Alise, you’ll make sure they obey?” Alise’s agreement was firm and quick. She would have been the perfect candidate if the Kin did not determine their rankings by age. “Then we’ve done what we can. It’s long past time you were in your beds.”

“Long past time for you, too,” Alise said as she stood. “I could send for Melfane.”

“No need to rob her of sleep, too.” Elayne said hastily. And firmly. Melfane was short and stout, a merry woman with a ready laugh, and unlike her aunt in other ways, as well. Merry or not, the midwife was a tyrant who would not be pleased to learn that she was awake. “I’ll sleep when I can.”

Once they left, she released saidar and took up a book from several on the second sideboard, yet another history of Andor, but she could not concentrate. Bereft of the Power, she felt grumpy. Burn her, she was so weary that her eyes felt grainy. She knew that if she lay down, though, she would stare at the ceiling till the sun rose. In any case, she had stared at the page for only minutes when Deni appeared again.

“Master Norry is here, my Lady, with that Hark fellow. Said he’d heard you were up and wondered if you could spare him a few minutes.”

He had heard she was up? If he was having her watched… ! The import broke through her grumpiness. Hark. He had not brought Hark since that first visit, ten days ago. No, eleven days, now. Ebullience replaced peevishness. Telling Deni to send them in, she followed the woman as far as the anteroom, where a patterned carpet covered most of the red-and-white floor tiles. Here, too, only a pair of stand-lamps were lit, giving off a dim, wavering light and a scent of roses.

Master Norry looked more than ever a white-crested wading bird with his long, spindly shanks, and tufts of hair sticking up behind his ears, but for once, he almost seemed excited. He was actually rubbing his hands together. He was not carrying his leather folder tonight; even in the dim light, the ink stains on his crimson tabard showed. One had turned the tuft of the White Lion’s tail black. He offered a stiff bow, and the nondescript Hark imitated him awkwardly, then knuckled his forehead for good measure. He was wearing a darker brown than he had previously, but the same belt and buckle. “Forgive the hour, my Lady,” Norry began in that dry voice.

“How did you know I was awake?” she demanded, emotions bouncing again.

Norry blinked, startled by the question. “One of the cooks mentioned sending up warm goat’s milk for you when I went to get some for myself, my Lady. I find warm goat’s milk very soothing when I can’t sleep. But she mentioned wine, too, so I assumed you had visitors and might still be awake.”

Elayne sniffed. She still wanted to snap at someone. Keeping that out of her voice required an effort. “I suppose you’ve success to report, Master Hark?”

“I followed him like you said, my Lady, and he’s been to the same house three nights, counting this one. It’s on Full Moon Street in the New City, it is. Only place he ever goes except taverns and common rooms. He drinks some, he does. Dices a lot, too.” The man hesitated, dry-washing his hands nervously. “I can go now, right, my Lady? You’ll take off whatever it was you put on me?”

“According to the tax rolls.” Norry said, “the house is owned by the Lady Shiaine Avarhin, my Lady. She seems to be the last of the House.”

“What else can you tell me about the place, Master Hark? Who else lives there besides this Lady Shiaine?”

Hark rubbed his nose uneasily. “Well, I don’t know as they lives there, my Lady, but there’s two Aes Sedai there tonight. I saw one of them letting Mellar out while the other was coming in, and the one who was coming in said, ‘A pity there are only two of us, Falion, the way Lady Shiaine works us.’ Only, she said Lady like she didn’t mean it, she did. Funny. She was carrying a stray cat, a thing scrawny as she was.” He bobbed a sudden, nervous bow. “Begging your pardon, my Lady. Didn’t mean no offence, speaking of an Aes Sedai that way, but it took me a minute to realize she was Aes Sedai, it did. There was good light from the entry hall, there was, but she was so thin and plain, with a wide nose, that nobody would take her for Aes Sedai without some study.”

Elayne laid a hand on his arm. Excitement bubbled in her voice, and she let it. “What were their accents?”

“Their accents, my Lady? Well, the one with the cat, she’s from right here in Caemlyn I’d say. The other… Well, she didn’t say above two sentences, but I’d say she was Kandori. Called the other Marillin, if that helps, my Lady.”

Laughing, Elayne capered a few steps. She knew who had set Mellar on her now, and it was worse than she had feared. Marillin Gemalphin and Falion Bhoda, two Black sisters who had fled the Tower after doing murder. That had been to facilitate theft, but it was the murders that would see them stilled and beheaded. It had been to find them, and the others with them, that she. Egwene and Nynaeve had been sent out of the Tower. The Black Ajah had planted Mellar next to her, to spy most likely, but still a chilling thought. Worse than she had feared, and yet, finding the two now was like completing the circle.

Hark was staring at her with his mouth hanging open, she realized. Master Norry was studiously examining the lion’s stained tail. She stopped dancing and folded her hands. Fool men! “Where is Mellar now?”

“In his rooms, I believe,” Norry said.

“My Lady, you’ll take it off now?” Hark said. “And I can go? I did what you asked.”

“First you have to lead us to this house,” she said, darting past him to the twinned doors. “Then we’ll talk.” Putting her head out into the corridor, she found Deni and seven more Guardswomen lined up on either side of the doors. “Deni, send someone to fetch the Lady Birgitte as fast as possible, and someone else to wake the Aes Sedai and ask them to come, too, with their Warders and prepared to take a ride. Then you go and wake however many Guardswomen you think you need to arrest Mellar. You needn’t be too gentle about it. The charges are murder and being a Darkfriend. Lock him in one of the basement storerooms with a strong guard.” The stocky woman smiled broadly and began giving orders as Elayne went back inside.

Hark was wringing his hands and shifting from one foot to the other anxiously. “My Lady, what do you mean we’ll talk? You promised to take this thing off me if I followed the man, you did. And I did, so you have to keep your word.”

“I never said I’d remove the Finder, Master Hark. I said you’d be exiled to Baerlon instead of hanging, but wouldn’t you rather remain in Caemlyn?”

The man widened his eyes, trying to look sincere. And failing. He even smiled. “Oh, no, my Lady. I’ve been dreaming about the fresh country air in Baerlon, I has. I’ll wager there’s never a worry about getting rotten meat in your stew there. Here, you got to sniff careful before you eat anything. I’m looking forward to it, I am.”

Elayne put on the stern face her mother had always worn passing judgment. “You’d be out of Baerlon two minutes behind the Guardsmen who escorted you there. And then you’d hang for breaking your exile. Much better for you to remain in Caemlyn and take on a new line of work. Master Norry, could you use a man with Hark’s talents?”

“I could, my Lady,” Norry replied without even a pause for thought. A satisfied smile touched his thin lips, and Elayne realized what she had done. She had given him a tool to encroach on Mistress Harfor’s ground. But there was no undoing it, now.

“The work won’t be so remunerative as your former ‘trade,’ Master Hark, but you won’t hang for it.”

“Not so what, my Lady?” Hark said, scratching his head.

“It won’t pay so well. What do you say? Baerlon, where you’ll surely cut a purse or bolt, and hang for either one, or Caemlyn, where you’ll have steady work and no fear of the hangman. Unless you take up cutting purses again.”

Hark swayed on his feet, scrubbing the back of his hand across his mouth. “I needs a drink, I does,” he muttered hoarsely. Very likely he believed the Finder would allow her to know if he cut a purse. If so, she had no intention of disabusing him.

Master Norry scowled at the man, but when he opened his mouth, she said, “There’s wine in the small sitting room. Let him have one cup, then join me in the large sitting room.”

The large sitting room was dark when she walked in, but she channeled to light the mirrored stand-lamps against the dark-paneled walls, and the kindling of the fires neatly laid on the facing hearths. Then she took a seat in one of the low-backed chairs around the scroll-edged table and released saidar again. Since her experiment at holding the Power all day, she had not held it longer than necessary. Her mood swung from joyful excitement to morose worry and back. On the one hand, she was done with having to put up with Mellar, and soon she would have her hands on two Black sisters. Questioning them might lead to the rest, or at least reveal their plans. And if not, this Shiaine would have her own secrets. Anyone who was “working” two Dark-friend sisters would have secrets worth knowing. On the other hand, what would Duhara do to try forcing her acceptance as an advisor? Duhara would try to meddle somehow, but she could not see how. Burn her, she did not need any more difficulties between her and the throne. With a little luck, tonight would not only snare two Black sisters, it might uncover a third, a murderer ten times over. Back and forth she went, from Falion and Marillin to Duhara, even after Master Norry and Hark joined her.

Hark, a silver cup in his hand, tried to take a seat at the table, but Master Norry tapped him on the shoulder and jerked his head toward a corner. Sullenly, Hark went where he was directed. He must have begun drinking as soon as the cup was filled, because he emptied it in one long pull then stood turning it over in his hands and staring at it. Suddenly he gave a start and directed an ingratiating grin at her. Whatever he saw on her face made him flinch. Scuttling to the long table against the wall, he set the cup down with exaggerated care, then scuttled back to his corner.

Birgitte was the first to arrive, the bond filled with weary discontent. “A ride?” she said, and when Elayne explained, she began raising objections. Well, some of it was objections; the rest was just insults.

“What hare-brained, crack-pated scheme are you talking about, Birgitte?” Vandene said as she entered the room. She wore a riding dress that hung loose on her. One of her sister’s, it would have fit her perfectly while Adeleas was alive, but the white-haired woman had lost weight. Her Jaem, wiry and gnarled, took one look at Hark and placed himself where he could watch the man. Hark ventured a smile, but it faded when Jaem’s expression remained hard as iron. The Warder’s graying hair was thin, but there was nothing soft about him.

“She intends to try capturing two Black sisters tonight,” Birgitte replied, shooting a hard look at Elayne.

“Two Black sisters?” Sareitha exclaimed walking through the door. She gathered her dark cloak around her as though the words had given a chill. “Who?” Her Warder Ned, a tall, broad-shouldered young man with yellow hair, eyed Hark and touched his sword hilt. He chose a spot where he could watch the man, too. Hark shifted his feet. He might have been thinking of trying to run.

“Falion Bhoda and Marillin Gemalphin,” Elayne said. Sareitha’s mouth hardened.

“What about Falion and Marillin?” Careane asked as she glided into the room. Her Warders were disparate men, a tall, gangly Tairen, a blade-slender Saldaean, and a broad-shouldered Cairhienin. They exchanged glances, and Tavan, the Cairhienin, leaned against the wall watching Hark while Cieryl and Venr stood in the doorway. Hark’s mouth took on a sickly twist.

There was nothing for it but to explain again from the beginning. Which Elayne did with a rising impatience that had nothing to do with her shifting moods. The longer this took, the more chance that Falion and Marillin might be gone by the time she reached the house on Full Moon Street. She wanted them. She intended to have them! She should have made Birgitte wait until everyone had gathered.

“A good plan, I think,” Vandene said when she finished. “Yes, it will do nicely.” Others were not so agreeable.

“It isn’t a plan, it’s bloody madness!” Birgitte said sharply. Arms folded beneath her bosom, she scowled down at Elayne, the bond such a turmoil of emotions that Elayne could barely make them out. “The four of you enter the house alone. Alone! That isn’t a plan. It’s flaming insanity! Warders are supposed to guard their Aes Sedai’s backs. Let us come with you.” The other Warders put in emphatic agreements, but at least she was not trying to stop the whole thing any more.

“There are four of us.” Elayne told her. “We can watch our own backs. And sisters do not ask their Warders to face other sisters.” Birgitte’s face darkened. “If I need you. I’ll shout so loud you’d be able to hear me if you were back here in the palace. The Warders remain outside! she added when Birgitte opened her mouth. The bond filled with frustration, but Birgitte’s jaw snapped shut.

“Perhaps this man can be trusted,” Sareitha said, glancing at Hark with no trust at all, “but even if he heard correctly, nothing says there are still only two sisters in the house. Or any. If they have gone, there’s no danger, but if others have joined them, we might as well put our necks in a noose and spring the trap ourselves.”

Careane folded her sturdy arms and nodded. “The danger is too great. You yourself told us that when they fled the Tower, they stole a number of ter’angreal, some very dangerous indeed. I’ve never been called a coward, but I don’t fancy trying to sneak up on someone who might have a rod that can make balefire.”

“He could hardly have misheard something as simple as ‘there are only two of us,’” Elayne replied firmly. “And they spoke as if they didn’t expect any others.” Burn her, considering her standing with respect to them, they should have been jumping to obey rather than arguing. “In any case, this isn’t a discussion.” A pity both objected. If only one had, it could have been a clue. Unless they both were Black Ajah. A bone-freezing thought, that, yet her plan took the possibility into account. “Falion and Marillin won’t know we are coming until it’s too late. If they’re gone, we’ll arrest this Shiaine, but we are going.”

It was a larger party than Elayne had expected that rode out of the Queen’s Stableyard behind her and Hark. Birgitte had insisted on bringing fifty Guardswomen, though all they would be doing was missing sleep, a column of twos in red-lacquered helmets and breastplates, black in the night, that snaked along the palace behind the Aes Sedai and Warders. Reaching the front of the palace, they skirted the edge of the Queen’s Plaza, the great oval crowded now with rude shelters that housed sleeping Guardsmen and nobles’ armsmen. Men were billeted everywhere room could be found, but there were insufficient basements and attics and spare rooms near enough the palace, and the parks where circles of Kinswomen would take the men to the places where they were needed. The fighting they did was afoot, on the walls, so their horses were all picketed in nearby parks and in the larger palace gardens. A few sentries shifted as they passed, heads swiveling to follow, but with her hood up, all they could be sure of was that a large contingent of Guardswomen were escorting a party through the night. The sky to the east was still dark, but it must be less than two hours till first light. The Light send dawn would see Falion and Marillin in custody. And one more. At least one more.

Winding streets led over and around the hills past narrow, tile-covered towers that would glitter with a hundred colors when the sun rose and glittered faintly in the cloud-dappled moonlight, past silent shops and lightless inns, simple stone houses with slate roofs and small palaces that might have fit in Tar Valon. The ring of horseshoes on the paving stones and the faint creak of saddle leather sounded loud in the silence. Except for an occasional dog that slunk away into the deeper shadows of alleys, nothing else moved. The streets were dangerous at this hour, but no footpad would be mad enough to come in sight of so large a party. Half an hour after leaving the Royal Palace, Elayne rode Fireheart through the Mondel Gate, a wide, twenty-foot-high arch in the Inner City’s tall white wall. Once there would have been Guardsmen on duty there, to keep the peace, but the Queen’s Guards were spread too thin now for that.

Almost as soon as they were into the New City, Hark turned east into a warren of streets that meandered in every direction through the city’s hills. He rode awkwardly, on a bay mare that had been found for him. Cutpurses seldom spent time in the saddle. Some of the streets were quite narrow here, and it was in one of those that he finally drew rein, surrounded by stone houses of two or three or even four stories. Birgitte raised a hand to halt the column. The sudden silence seemed deafening.

“It’s just around that corner there, it is, my Lady, the other side of the street,” Hark said in a near whisper, “but if we go riding out there, they might hear us or see us. Pardon, my Lady, but if these Aes Sedai are what you says they are, I don’t want them seeing me.” He scrambled down from his saddle clumsily and looked up her, wringing his hands, his moonshadowed face anxious.

Dismounting, Elayne led Fireheart to the corner and peeked around the corner of a narrow, three-story house. The houses along the other street stood dark except for one, four substantial stories of stone with the closed gate of a stableyard beside it. Not an ornate building, but large enough for a wealthy merchant or banker. Bankers and merchants were unlikely to be awake at this hour, however.

“There,” Hark whispered hoarsely, pointing. He stood far back, so he had to learn forward to point. He really did fear being seen. “The one with the light on the second floor, it is.”

“Best to find out if anyone else is awake in there.” Vandene said, peering past Elayne. “Jaem? Don’t go inside the house.”

Elayne expected the lean old Warder to sneak across the street, but he just strolled out holding his cloak close around him against the early morning chill. Even the dangerous grace of a Warder appeared to have deserted him. Vandene seemed to sense her surprise.

“Skulking draws the eye and creates suspicion,” she said. “Jaem is just a man walking, and if it’s early to be out in the streets, he isn’t sneaking, so anyone who sees him will think of some mundane reason for him to be out.”

Reaching the stableyard gate, Jaem pulled it open and walked through as if he had a perfect right. Long minutes passed before he came back out, shutting the gate carefully behind him, and strolled back along the street. He rounded the corner and the leopard-like grace reappeared in his step.

“All the windows are dark except that one,” he told Vandene quietly. “The kitchen door is unlatched. So is the back door. That lets onto an alley. Trusting, for Darkfriends. Or else dangerous enough they don’t worry about burglars. There’s a big fellow sleeping in the barn, up in the loft. Big enough to scare any burglar, but he’s so drunk he didn’t wake while I was tying him up.” Vandene raised a questioning eyebrow. “I thought I’d better be safe. Drunks sometimes wake when you least expect. You wouldn’t want him seeing you go in and start making noise.” She nodded approval.

“It’s time to get ready,” Elayne said. Moving back from the corner and handing her reins to Birgitte, she tried to embrace the Source. It was like trying to catch smoke with her fingers. Frustration and anger welled up, all the things you needed to suppress if you were to channel. She tried again, and failed again. Falion and Marillin were going to get away. To come this close… They had to be in that lighted room. She knew it. And they were going to escape. Sadness replaced anger, and suddenly saidar flowed into her. She barely stifled a sigh of relief. “I’ll meld the flows, Sareitha. Vandene, you meld for Careane.”

“I don’t understand why we have to link.” the Tairen Brown muttered, but she put herself on the edge of embracing the Power. “With two of them and four of us, we outnumber them, but linked, it’s two and two.” A clue? Perhaps she wished it to be three and three?

“Two strong enough to overwhelm them even if they’re holding the Power, Sareitha.” Elayne reached through her as if she were an angreal, and the glow of saidar surrounded the other woman as the link was completed. In truth, it surrounded both of them, but she could only see the part around Sareitha—until she wove Spirit around her. Then the glow vanished. She placed the same weave on herself and prepared four shields and several other weaves, all inverted. She felt almost giddy with excitement, but she did not intend to be caught by surprise. Frustration still pulsed along the bond, but for the rest, Birgitte felt like a drawn arrow. Elayne touched her arm. “We will be all right.” Birgitte snorted and flung her thick braid back over her shoulder. “Keep an eye on Master Hark. Birgitte. It would be a shame if he had to be hanged because he was tempted to run.” Hark squeaked.

She exchanged glances with Vandene, who said, “We might as well be about it.”

The four of them walked up Full Moon Street, slowly, as if out for a stroll, and slipped into the shadow-shrouded stableyard. Elayne opened the kitchen door slowly, but the hinges were well-oiled, emitting not a squeak. The brick-walled kitchen was lit only by a tiny fire in the wide stone fireplace where a kettle hung steaming, yet that was enough for them to cross the floor without bumping into the table or chairs. Someone sighed, and she pressed a warning finger to her lips. Vandene frowned at Careane, who looked embarrassed and spread her hands.

A short hall led to stairs at the front of the house. Gathering her skirts, Elayne started up, silent on slippered feet. She was careful to keep Sareitha where she could see her. Vandene was doing the same with Careane. They could do nothing with the Power, but that hardly meant they could do nothing. On the second flight of stairs, she began hearing the murmur of voices. Light spilled from an open door.

“… don’t care what you think.” a woman said in that room. “You leave the thinking to me and do as you’re told.”

Elayne moved to the door. It was a sitting room, with gilded stand-lamps and rich carpets on the floor and a tall fireplace of blue marble, but she had eyes only for the three women in it. Only one, a sharp-faced woman, was seated. That must be Shiaine. The other two stood with their backs to the door, heads bowed like penitents. The sharp-faced woman’s eyes widened when she saw her in the doorway, but Elayne gave her no time to open her mouth. The two Black sisters cried out in alarm as shields went onto them, and flows of Air bound their arms to their sides, tightened their skirts around their legs. More flows of Air fastened Shiaine to her gilded armchair.

Elayne drew Sareitha into the room with her and moved to where she could see all of their faces. Sareitha tried to step back. She might only have been trying to give her the place of prominence, but Elayne caught her sleeve again, keeping her in view, too. Vandene and Careane joined them. Marillin’s narrow face held Aes Sedai calm, but Falion snarled silently.

“What is the meaning of this?” Shiaine demanded. “I recognize you. You’re Elayne Trakand, the Daughter-Heir. But that gives you no right to invade my home and assault me.”

“Falion Bhoda,” Elayne said calmly, “Marillin Gemalphin, Shiaine Avarhin, I arrest you as Darkfriends.” Well, her voice was calm. Inside, she wanted to skip with glee. And Birgitte thought this would be dangerous!

“That is ridiculous.” Shiaine said in icy tones. “I walk in the Light!”

“Not if you walk with these two,” Elayne told her. “To my certain knowledge they’ve proven themselves Black Ajah in Tar Valon, Tear and Tanchico. You don’t hear them denying it, do you? That’s because they know I—”

Suddenly sparks danced all over her from head to toe. She twitched helplessly, muscles spasming, saidar slipping from her grasp. She could see Vandene and Careane and Sareitha jerking as sparks flickered across them as well. Only a moment it lasted, but when the sparks vanished, Elayne felt as if she had been fed through a mangle. She had to hold on to Sareitha to stay on her feet, and Sareitha clung to her as hard. Vandene and Careane were supporting one another, swaying, each with her chin on the other’s shoulder. Falion and Marillin wore startled expressions, but the light of the Power enveloped them in heartbeats. Elayne felt the shield fasten on to her, saw them settle on the other three. There was no need for binding. Any of them would have fallen over without support. She would have shouted if she could have. If she thought that Birgitte and the others could do more than die.

Four women Elayne recognized entered the room. Asne Zeramene and Temaile Kinderode. Chesmal Emry and Eldrith Jhondar. Four Black sisters. She could have wept. Sareitha groaned softly.

“Why did you wait so long?” Asne demanded of Falion and Marillin. The Saldaean’s dark tilted eyes were angry. “I used this so they wouldn’t feel us embrace saidar, but why did you just stand there?” She waved a small, bent black rod, perhaps an inch in diameter, that had a strangely dull look. The thing seemed to fascinate her. “A ‘gift’ from Moghedien. A weapon from the Age of Legends. I can kill a man at a hundred paces with this, or just stun him if I want to put him to the question.”

“I can kill a man if I can see him.” Chesmal said scornfully. Tall and handsome, she was the image of icy arrogance.

Asne sniffed. “But my target could be surrounded by a hundred sisters, and not one would know what killed him.”

“I suppose it has its uses.” Chesmal admitted in grudging tones. “Why did you just stand there?”

“They had us shielded,” Falion said bitterly.

Eldrith’s breath caught, and she put a plump hand to a round cheek. “That’s impossible. Unless…” Her dark eyes sharpened. “They’ve discovered a way to hide the glow, to hide their weaves. Now, that would be most useful.”

“You have my thanks for your timely rescue.” Shiaine said, rising, “but do you have a reason for coming here tonight? Did Moridin send you?”

Asne channeled a flow of Air that struck Shiaine’s cheek with a loud crack, staggering her. “Keep a civil tongue in your mouth, and perhaps we’ll let you leave with us. Or we can leave you behind dead.” Shiaine’s cheek was reddened, but her hands remained at her sides. Her face was expressionless.

“Elayne’s the only one we need.” Temaile said. She was pretty in a fox-faced way, almost a fragile child in appearance despite her ageless face, but her blue eyes held an unhealthy light. She touched her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I’d enjoy playing with the others, but they’d be a burden we don’t need.”

“If you’re going to kill them,” Marillin said as though discussing the price of bread, “spare Careane. She is one of us.”

“A gift from Adeleas.” Vandene murmured, and Careane’s eyes went very wide. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. The two women sagged and fell to the carpet. Vandene began trying to push herself up, but Careane lay staring at the ceiling, the hilt of Vandene’s belt knife protruding from beneath her breastbone.

The glow surrounded Chesmal, and she touched Vandene with a complex weave of Fire, Earth and Water. The white-haired woman collapsed as if her bones had melted. The same weave touched Sareitha, and she pulled Elayne down atop her as she fell. Sareitha’s eyes were already glazing.

“Their Warders will be coming now,” Chesmal said. “A little more killing to do.”

“Run, Birgitte!” Elayne thought, wishing the bond could carry words. “Run!”