Egwene had told them everything. Except what happened inside the ter’angreal during her testing; she could not bring herself to talk about that, any more than Nynaeve or Elayne could tell of their testings. Everything that happened in the testing chamber, what Sheriam had said about the terrible weakness conferred by the ability to channel, every word Verin had said, whether it seemed important or not. The one part they had had trouble accepting was Alanna; Aes Sedai just did not do things like that. No one in her right mind did anything like that, but Aes Sedai least of all.
Egwene glowered at them, almost hearing them say it. “Aes Sedai are not supposed to lie, either, but Verin and the Mother seem awfully close with what they tell us. There are not supposed to be Black Ajah.?
?
“I like Alanna.” Nynaeve tugged her braid, then shrugged. “Oh, very well. Perha—That is, she did behave oddly.”
“Thank you,” Egwene said, and Nynaeve gave her an acknowledging nod as if she had heard no sarcasm.
“In any case, the Amyrlin knows of it, and she can keep an eye on Alanna far more easily than we can.”
“What about Elaida and Sheriam?” Egwene asked.
“I have never been able to like Elaida,” Elayne said, “but I cannot truly believe she is Black Ajah. And Sheriam? It’s impossible.”
Nynaeve snorted. “It should be impossible for any of them. When we do find them, there is nothing says they’ll all be women we do not like. But I don’t mean to put suspicion—not this kind of suspicion!—on any woman. We need more to go on than that they might have seen something they shouldn’t.” Egwene nodded agreement as quickly as Elayne, and Nynaeve went on: “We will tell the Amyrlin that much, and put no more weight to it than it deserves. If she ever looks in on us as she said she would. If you are with us when she comes, Elayne, remember she does not know about you.”
“I am not likely to forget it,” Elayne said fervently. “But we should have some other way to get word to her. My mother would have planned it better.”
“Not if she could not trust her messengers,” Nynaeve said. “We will wait. Unless you two think one of us should have a talk with Verin? No one would think that remarkable.”
Elayne hesitated, then gave her head a small shake. Egwene was quicker and more vigorous with hers; slip of the mind or not, Verin had left out too much to be trusted.
“Good.” Nynaeve sounded more than satisfied. “I am just as pleased we cannot talk to the Amyrlin when we choose. This way we make our own decisions, act when and as we decide, without her directing our every step.” Her hand ran down the pages listing stolen ter’angreal as if she were reading it again, then closed on the striped stone ring. “And the first decision concerns this. It’s the first thing we have seen that has any real connection to Liandrin and the others.” She frowned at the ring, then took a deep breath. “I am going to sleep with it tonight.”
Egwene did not hesitate before taking the ring out of Nynaeve’s hand. She wanted to hesitate—she wanted to keep her hands by her sides—but she did not, and she was pleased. “I am the one they say might be a Dreamer. I do not know whether that gives me any advantage, but Verin said it’s dangerous using this. Whichever of us uses it, she needs any advantage she can find.”
Nynaeve gripped her braid and opened her mouth as if to protest. When she finally spoke, though, it was to say, “Are you sure, Egwene? We do not even know if you are a Dreamer, and I can channel more strongly than you. I still think I—” Egwene cut her off.
“You can channel more strongly if you are angry. Can you be sure you’ll be angry in a dream? Will you have time to become angry before you need to channel? Light, we don’t even know that anyone can channel in a dream. If one of us has to do it—and you are right; it is the only connection we have—it should be me. Maybe I really am a Dreamer. Besides, Verin did give it to me.”
Nynaeve looked as if she wanted to argue, but at last she gave a grudging nod. “Very well. But Elayne and I will be there. I do not know what we can do, but if anything goes wrong, perhaps we can wake you up, or. . . . We will be there.” Elayne nodded, too.
Now that she had their agreement, Egwene felt a queasiness in the pit of her stomach. I talked them into it. I wish I did not want them to talk me out of it. She became aware of a woman standing in the doorway, a woman in novice white, with her hair in long braids.
“Did no one ever teach you to knock, Else?” Nynaeve said.
Egwene hid the stone ring inside her fist. She had the strangest feeling that Else had been staring at it.
“I have a message for you,” Else said calmly. Her eyes studied the table, with all the papers scattered on it, then the three women around it. “From the Amyrlin.”
Egwene exchanged wondering looks with Nynaeve and Elayne.
“Well, what is it?” Nynaeve demanded.
Else arched an eyebrow in amusement. “The belongings left behind by Liandrin and the others were put in the third storeroom on the right from the main stairs in the second basement under the library.” She glanced at the papers on the table again and left, neither hurrying nor moving slowly.
Egwene felt as if she could not breathe. We’re afraid to trust anybody, and the Amyrlin decides to trust Else Grinwell of all women?
“That fool girl cannot be trusted not to blab to anyone who’ll listen!” Nynaeve started for the door.
Egwene grabbed up her skirts and darted past her at a run. Her shoes skidded on the tiles of the gallery, but she caught a glimpse of white vanishing down the nearest ramp and dashed after it. She must be running, too, to be so far ahead already. Why is she running? The flash of white was already disappearing down another ramp. Egwene followed.
A woman turned to face her at the foot of the ramp, and Egwene stopped in confusion. Whoever she was, this was certainly not Else. All in silver and white silk, she sparked feelings Egwene had never had before. She was taller, more beautiful by far, and the look in her black eyes made Egwene feel small, scrawny, and none too clean. She can probably channel more of the Power than I can, too. Light, she is probably smarter than all three of us put together on top of it. It isn’t fair for one woman to—Abruptly she realized the way her thoughts were going. Her cheeks reddened, and she gave herself a shake. She had never felt—less—than any other woman before, and she was not about to start now.
“Bold,” the woman said. “You are bold to go running about so, alone, where so many murders have been done.” She sounded almost pleased.
Egwene drew herself up and straightened her dress hurriedly, hoping the other woman would not notice, knowing she did, wishing the woman had not seen her running like a child. Stop that! “Pardon, but I am looking for a novice who came this way, I think. She has large, dark eyes and dark hair in braids. She’s plump, and pretty in a way. Did you see which way she went?”