Lord of Chaos (The Wheel of Time 6)

“In that case,” she said flatly, “let’s see what I can learn from Logain.”

It was a small house, only two rooms, but thick stone walls made it relatively cool. Logain was in his shirtsleeves, smoking a pipe and reading by a window. The Aes Sedai were taking good care of him. The chairs and tables were as fine as anything in Salidar — nothing elaborate, but well made, though nothing matched anything else — and a scroll-woven red-and-gold carpet covered much of a floor that was swept so clean Nynaeve doubted he did the sweeping.

He set his book down when they entered, seemingly not at all put out by the lack of a knock. Rising leisurely, he tapped out his pipe, donned his coat and only then made a smooth leg. “It is good to see you again after so long. I thought you had forgotten me. Will you join me in some wine? The Aes Sedai keep me on short supply, but what they do let me have is not bad at all.”

The offer of wine would have been enough — Nynaeve barely suppressed a wince — if she had needed more. Thinking of Uno, the fact that he was male was enough. No need to pull up any of her anger from the Little Tower. Thinking of it added its bit, though. The True Source was suddenly there, an unseen warmth just out of sight. She opened herself, and saidar flooded her; if what she had felt earlier was euphoria, this was beyond ecstasy. She was surrendering to it, burn Theodrin!

“Sit down,” she told him coldly. “I’ll have no chatter out of you. Answer when you’re spoken to, and otherwise hold your tongue.”

Logain only shrugged and complied, meek as a puppy. No, not meek; that smile was pure insolence. Part came from his feelings toward Aes Sedai, Nynaeve was certain, and part . . . He watched Elayne take another chair, arranging her skirts with a studied care, and even if Nynaeve had not seen what he was looking at, she would have known it was a woman. There was no smirking about it, no leering, just . . . Nynaeve did not know what, only that he directed the same at her, and she was suddenly very much aware that she was a woman and he a man. Maybe it was just that he was handsome and had broad shoulders, but she liked to think better of herself. Of course that was not it.

Clearing her throat, she wove filaments of saidar into him, Air and Water, Fire and Earth, Spirit. All the elements of Healing, but used now to probe. It would have helped to lay her hands on him, but she could not bring herself to do that. Bad enough to touch him with the Power. He was healthy as a bull and almost as strong, nothing wrong with him in the slightest — except for the hole.

It was not really a hole, more a feeling that what seemed continuous was not, that what seemed smooth and straight was really skirting around an absence. She knew that sensation well, from the early days, back when she thought she might really learn something. It still made her skin crawl.

He looked up at her intently. She did not remember moving closer. His face was fixed in a mask of brazen contempt; she might not be Aes Sedai, but she was the next thing to it.

“How can you do all of that at once?” Elayne asked. “I could not keep track of half of it.”

“Hush,” Nynaeve murmured. Hiding the effort required, she took Logain’s head in her hands roughly. Yes. It was better with physical contact, the impressions sharper.

She directed the full flow of saidar into where the hole should have been — and was almost surprised to find an emptiness. Of course, she still did not expect to learn anything. Men were as different from women in the Power as they were in flesh, maybe more so. She might as well study a rock to find out about fish. It was hard to keep her thoughts on what she was doing, knowing she was only going through motions, killing time as it were.

What is Myrelle going to say? Would she keep back a message from Egwene? That emptiness, so small she could pass right over it, was vast once she slipped the flows inside, immense enough to swallow them all. If only I could talk to Egwene. I’ll wager once she knows the Tower is sending an embassy to Rand, and the Aes Sedai here are just sitting on their hands, she’ll help me convince Elayne we’ve done all we can here. Vast emptiness; nothingness. What about what she had found in Siuan and Leane, the feel of something cut? She was sure it was real, however faint. Men and women might be different, but maybe . . . All I need to do is talk to her somehow. She’ll see that Rand would be better off with us there. Elayne will listen to her; Elayne thinks Egwene knows Rand better than anybody else. There it was. Something cut. Just an impression, but the same as in Siuan and Leane. So how do I find her? If only she’d pop into our dreams again. I’ll bet I can talk her into joining us. The three of us would do much better with Rand. Together, we could tell him what we learn in Tel’aran’rhiod, keep him from making some wool-headed mistake with the Aes Sedai. She’ll see that. Something about that cut . . . If it was bridged with Fire and Spirit, so . . .

It was the slight widening

of Logain’s eyes that told her what she had done. Breath froze in her throat. She backed away from him so fast she stumbled over her skirt.

“Nynaeve,” Elayne said, sitting up straight, “what is the mat —?”

A heartbeat, and Nynaeve had all of saidar she could hold redirected into a shield. “Go find Sheriam,” she said hurriedly. “Nobody else but Sheriam. Tell her . . . ” She drew a deep breath that seemed like her first in hours; her heart was speeding to beat galloping horses. “Tell her I’ve Healed Logain.”

Chapter 30

To Heal Again

* * *

Something pushed against the shield Nynaeve had fastened between Logain and the True Source, building until the shield began to bend and the weave trembled on the brink of ripping apart. She let saidar flow through her, sweetness reaching the very edge of pain, channeling every thread into Spirit, into the shield. “Go, Elayne!” She did not care one bit if it came out a squeal.

Elayne, the Light shine on her, wasted no time on questions. She bounded out of her chair and was gone at a dead run.

Logain had not moved a muscle. His eyes held Nynaeve’s; they seemed to shine. Light, he was big. She fumbled for her belt knife, realized how ridiculous that was — he could probably take it away from her without sweating a drop more than he already was; his shoulders suddenly seemed as wide as she was tall — and diverted some of her weave to Air, to bonds that fastened him right where he sat, arm and leg. He was still big, yet suddenly he looked more normal, entirely manageable. Only then did it occur to her that she had lessened the strength of the shield. But she could not channel a hair more; already the . . . the pure joy of life that was saidar was so strong in her that she nearly wanted to weep. He smiled at her.

One of the Warders put his head in at the door, a dark-haired man with a bold nose and a deep, white scar running along his lean jaw. “Is anything amiss? The other Accepted, she went running like she had sat in the nettle patch.”

“Everything is quite under control,” she told him coolly. As coolly as she could manage. Nobody must know — nobody! — until she had a chance to speak with Sheriam, to get the woman on her side. “Elayne just remembered something she had forgotten.” That sounded inane. “You may leave us. I am busy.”

Tervail — that was his name; Tervail Dura, bonded to Beonin; and what under the Light did his name matter? — Tervail gave her a wry grin and a mocking bow before retreating. Warders seldom let Accepted get by with playing at Aes Sedai.

Not licking her lips took considerable effort. She studied Logain. He was outwardly calm, as if nothing had changed.

“There’s no need for this, Nynaeve. Do you think I’ll decide to attack a village with hundreds of Aes Sedai in it? They’d chop me to pieces before I took two steps.”

“Be quiet,” she said mechanically. Fumbling behind her, she found a chair and sat down, never taking her eyes off him. Light, what was keeping Sheriam? Sheriam had to understand it was an accident. She had to! Anger at herself was the only thing that kept her able to channel. How could she have been so careless, such a blind idiot?

“Don’t be afraid,” Logain said. “I won’t turn against them now. They’re succeeding in what I want, whether they know it or not. The Red Ajah is finished. In a year, there won’t be an Aes Sedai will dare admit she’s Red.”