The Gathering Storm

"Does it matter?" Bryne said. "I'm not about to let you go on without me."

"Let's move, then," Siuan said, taking a deep breath and climbing to her feet. That rest hadn't been nearly long enough, but he didn't challenge her. "These three soldiers of yours will survive the night. I've done what I can for them."

Egwene sat, exhausted, on a pile of rubble, staring out of the hole in the White Tower, watching fires burning below. Figures moved about them, and one by one, the fires winked out. Whoever had been running the resistance was quick-minded enough to realize that the fires could prove as dangerous as the Seanchan. But a few sisters weaving Air or Water could make short work of the flames, preserving the Tower. What was left of it.

Egwene closed her eyes and lay back, resting against the fragments of a wall, feeling the fresh breeze blow across her. The Seanchan were gone, the last to'raken vanishing into the night. That moment, watching it flee, was the moment when Egwene realized how hard she'd taxed herself and the poor novices she'd been drawing through. She'd released them with orders to go directly to sleep. The other women she'd gathered were caring for wounded or working on the fires on the upper levels.

Egwene wanted to help. A part of her did, at least. A sliver. But Light, she was tired! She couldn't channel another trickle, not even using the sa'angreal. She'd pushed the limits of what she could manage. But she was so worn out now that she wouldn't be able to embrace the Source if she tried.

She'd fought. She'd been glorious and destructive, the Amyrlin of judgment and fury, Green Ajah to the core. And still, the Tower had burned. And still, more to'raken had escaped than had fallen. The count of wounded among those she'd gathered was somewhat encouraging. Only three novices and one Aes Sedai dead, while they'd gathered ten damane and killed dozens of soldiers. But what of the other floors? The White Tower would not come out ahead in this battle.

The White Tower was broken, physically now as well as spiritually. They'd need a strong leader to rebuild. The next few days would be pivotal. It made her more than exhausted to consider the work she'd need to do.

She had protected many. She had resisted and fought. But this day would still mark one of the greatest disasters in the history of the Aes Sedai.

Can't think of that, she told herself. Have to focus on what to do to fix things. . . .

She would get up soon. She would lead the novices and Aes Sedai on these upper floors as they cleaned up and assessed the damage. She would be strong and capable. The others would be tempted to fall into despair, and she needed to be positive. For them.

But she could take a few minutes. She just needed to rest for a little while. . . .

She barely noticed when someone picked her up. She tiredly opened her eyes, and—though numb of mind—was astonished to find that she was being carried by Gawyn Trakand. His forehead was smeared with crusty dried blood, but his face was determined. "I've got you, Egwene," he said, glancing down. "I'll protect you."

ovice scurried over.

"Tell this man what you told me," Siuan commanded.

"Yes, Aes Sedai," the novice said with an anxious curtsy. Bryne's soldiers made an honor guard around Siuan, and Gawyn stepped up beside Bryne. The young man's eyes kept nicking toward the deadly sky.

"The Amyrlin, Egwene al'Vere," the novice said in a quivering voice. "She was released from the cells earlier today and allowed to return to the novices' quarters. I was down in the lower kitchens when the attack came, so I don't know what has happened to her. But she's probably up on the twenty-first or twenty-second level somewhere. That's where the novices' quarters are now." She grimaced. "The inside of the Tower is a mess, these days. Nothing is where it should be."

Siuan met Bryne's eyes. "Egwene's been given forkroot in heavy doses. She'll barely be able to channel."

"We've got to reach her!" Gawyn said.

"Obviously," Bryne said, rubbing his chin. "That's why we're here. I guess we go up instead of down, then."

"You're here to rescue her, aren't you?" The novice sounded eager.

Bryne eyed the girl. Child, I wish you hadn't made that connection. He hated the thought of leaving a mere novice tied up in the middle of this mess. But they couldn't have her running to give warning to the White Tower Aes Sedai.

"I want to go with you," the novice said fervently. "I'm loyal to the Amyrlin. The real Amyrlin. Most of us are."

Bryne raised an eyebrow, glancing at Siuan.

"Let her come," the Aes Sedai said. "It's the easier option anyway." She moved over to begin asking the girl a few more questions.

Bryne glanced to the side as one of his captains, a man named Vestas, approached. "My Lord," Vestas said urgently, his voice a deep whisper. "The wounded are sorted. We lost twelve men. Another fifteen are wounded but can walk and are heading for the boats. Six are wounded too badly to go with them." Vestas hesitated. "Three men won't last the hour, my Lord."

Bryne gritted his teeth. "We move on."

"I feel that pain, Bryne," Siuan said, turning around and eyeing him. "What is it?"

"We don't have time. The Amyrlin—"

"Can wait another moment. What is it?"

"Three men," he said. "I have to leave three of my men to die."