The Gathering Storm

"Yes, you do," Amys said. She reached up, running her hand through her hair, and found the pine needle, then let it drop to the dead grass. "And, also, you do not. Sometimes, Aviendha, we are so concerned with the things we have done that we do not stop to consider the things we have not."

Aviendha was glad for the darkness, which hid her shameful blush. In the distance, a soldier rang the evening bell to chime the hour, the soft metal ringing with eleven melancholy peals. How did she respond to Amys' comments? There didn't seem to be any proper response.

Aviendha was saved by a flash of light just beyond the camp. It was faint, but in the darkness, the flicker was easy to notice.

"What?" the Wise One asked, noticing Aviendha's gaze and turning to follow it.

"Light," Aviendha said. "From the Traveling grounds."

turned in his sleep, but settled down again. She loved him. She hadn't chosen to do so, but her heart—or the Pattern, or the Creator, or whatever was in charge of these things—had made the decision for her. And now she wouldn't change her feelings if she could. If it meant danger, if it meant suffering the looks of men in the camp, if it meant . . . sharing him with others.

Rand stirred again. This time, he groaned and opened his eyes, sitting up. He raised his hand to his head, somehow managing to look more weary now than he had when he'd gone to sleep. He wore only his smallclothes, and his chest was bare. He sat like that for a long moment, then stood up, walking to the shuttered window.

Min pushed her book closed. "And what do you think you're doing, sheepherder? You barely slept for a couple of hours!"

He opened the shutters and the window, exposing the dark night beyond. A stray curl of wind made her lamp flame shiver.

"Rand?" Min asked.

She could barely hear his voice when he replied. "He's inside my head. He was gone during the dream. But he's back now."

She resisted sinking down in her chair. Light, but she hated hearing about Rand's madness. She'd hoped that when he healed saidin, he would be free of the taint's insanities. "He?" she asked, forcing her voice to be steady. "The voice of... Lews Therin?"

He turned, clouded night sky outside the window framing his face, the lamp's uneven illumination leaving his features mostly in shadows.

"Rand," she said, setting her book aside and joining him beside the window. "You have to talk to someone. You can't keep it all inside."

"I have to be strong."

She tugged on his arm, turning him toward her. "Keeping me away means you're strong?"

"I'm not—"

"Yes you are. There are things going on in there, behind those Aiel eyes of yours. Rand, do you think I will stop loving you because of what you hear?"

"You'll be frightened."

"Oh," she said, folding her arms. "So I'm a fragile flower, am I?"

He opened his mouth, struggling for words, in the way he once had. Back when he'd been nothing more than a sheepherder on an adventure. "Min, I know you're strong. You know I do."

"Then trust me to be strong enough to bear what is inside you," she said. "We can't just pretend nothing has happened." She forced herself onward. "The taint left marks on you. I know it did. But if you can't share it with me, who can you share it with?"

He ran his hand through his hair, then turned away, beginning to pace. "Burn it all, Min! If my enemies discover my weaknesses, they will exploit them. I feel blind. I'm running in the dark on an unfamiliar path. I don't know if there are breaks in the road, or if the whole cursed thing ends in a cliff!"

She laid a hand on his arm as he passed, stopping him. "Tell me."

"You'll think I'm mad."

She snorted. "I already think you're a wool-headed fool. Can it be much worse than that?"

He regarded her, and some of the tension left his face. He sat down on the edge of the bed, sighing softly. But it was progress.

"Semirhage was right," Rand said. "I hear . . . things. A voice. The voice of Lews Therin, the Dragon. He speaks to me and responds to the world around me. Sometimes, he tries to seize saidin from me. And . . . and sometimes he succeeds. He's wild, Min. Insane. But the things he can do with the One Power are amazing."

He stared off into the distance. Min shivered. Light! He let the voice in his head wield the One Power? What did that mean? That he let the mad part of his brain take control?

He shook his head. "Semirhage claims that this is just insanity, tricks of my mind, but Lews Therin knows things—things that I don't. Things about history, about the One Power. You had a viewing of me that showed two people merging into one. That means that Lews Therin and I are distinct! Two people, Min. He's real."