The Gathering Storm

"That is no reason to abandon the old ways," Bair replied. "The city may be open, but nobody will be foolish enough to walk through the pillars. Aviendha, you must—"

"Bair," Amys cut in, "if it is well with you, I would prefer to tell her."

Bair hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, of course. It is only right. We turn our backs on you now, Aviendha. We will not see you again until you return to us as a sister returning from a long journey."

"A sister we had forgotten that we knew," Melaine said, smiling. The two turned from her, then Amys began to walk toward the Traveling ground. Aviendha hurried to catch up.

"You may wear your clothing this time," Amys said, "as it is the mark of your station. Normally, I would suggest that you travel to the city by foot, even though we know of Traveling now, but I think that custom is best bent in this case. Still, you should not Travel directly to the city. I suggest Traveling to Cold Rocks Hold and walk from there. You must spend time in the Three-fold Land to contemplate your journey."

Aviendha nodded. "I will need a waterskin and supplies there."

"Ready and waiting for you at the hold," Amys said. "We've been expecting you to leap this chasm soon. You should have leapt it days ago, considering all the hints we gave you." She eyed Aviendha, who glanced down at the ground.

"You have no reason for shame," Amys said. "That burden is upon us. Despite Bair's joking, you did well. Some women spend months and months being punished before deciding that they have had enough. We had to be hard on you, child—harder than I've ever seen a ready apprentice treated. There is just so little time!"

"I understand," Aviendha said. "And . . . thank you."

Amys snorted. "You forced us to be very creative. Remember this time you spent and the shame you felt, for it is the shame any da'tsang will know, should you consign them to their fate. And they cannot escape it simply by demanding release."

"What do you do if an apprentice declares herself ready to be a Wise One during her first few months of training?"

"Strap her a few times and set her digging holes, I suspect," Amys said. "I don't know of that ever happening. The closest was Sevanna."

Aviendha had wondered why the Wise Ones had accepted the Shaido woman without complaint. Her declaration had been enough: and so Amys and the others had been forced to accept her.

Amys pulled her shawl close. "There is a bundle for you with the Maidens guarding the Traveling ground. Once you reach Rhuidean, travel to the center of the city. You will find the pillars of glass. Pass through the center of them, then return here. Spend well your days running to the city. We pushed you hard so that you would have this time for contemplation. It is likely the last you will have for some while."

Aviendha nodded. "The battle comes."

"Yes. Return quickly once you pass through the pillars. We will need to discuss how to best handle the Car'a'carn. He has . . . changed since last night."

"I understand," Aviendha said, taking a deep breath.

"Go," Amys said, "and return." She put emphasis on the final word. Some women did not survive Rhuidean.

Aviendha met Amys' eyes, and nodded. Amys had been a second mother to her in many ways. She was rewarded by a rare smile. Then Amys turned her back to Aviendha, just as the other two had.

Aviendha took another deep breath, glancing back across the trampled grass before the manor house to where Rand spoke with the quartermasters, his expression stern, the arm missing a hand held folded behind his back, the other arm gesturing animatedly. She smiled at him, though he wasn't looking in her direction.

/ will be back for you, she thought.

Then she trotted to the Traveling ground, collected the pack and wove a gateway that would deposit her a safe distance from Cold Rocks Hold, beside a rock formation known as the Maiden's Spear, from which she could run to the hold and prepare herself. The gateway opened to the familiar, dry air of the Waste.

She ducked through the gateway, exulting—finally—in what had just happened.

Her honor had returned.

"I came out through a small Watergate, Aes Sedai," Shemerin said, bowing her head before the others in the tent. "In truth, it wasn't so difficult, once I left the Tower and got into the city. I didn't dare leave by one of the bridges. I couldn't let the Amyrlin know what I was doing."

Romanda watched, arms folded. Her tent was lit by two brass lamps, flames dancing at the tips. Six women listened to the runaway's story. Lelaine was there, for all that Romanda had tried to keep her from hearing about the meeting. Romanda had hoped that the slender Blue would be too busy basking in her status in camp to bother with such a seemingly trivial event.

Beside her was Siuan. The former Amyrlin had latched herself on to Lelaine with the strength of a barnacle. Romanda was well enough pleased with the newfound ability to Heal a stilling—she was Yellow after all— but a part of her wished it hadn't happened to Siuan. As if Lelaine weren't bad enough to deal with. Romanda had not forgotten Siuan's crafty nature, even if so many others in camp seemed to have done so. Lesser strength in the Power did not mean decreased capacity for scheming.

Sheriam was there, of course. The red-haired Keeper sat beside Lelaine. Sheriam had been withdrawn lately, and barely maintained the dignity of an Aes Sedai. Foolish woman. She needed to be removed from her place; everyone could see that. If Egwene ever returned—and Romanda prayed that she did, if only because it would upset Lelaine's plans—then there would be an opportunity. A new Keeper.

The other person in the tent was Magla. Romanda and Lelaine had argued—with control, of course—over who would be first to interrogate Shemerin. They'd decided that the only fair way was to do it together. Because Shemerin was Yellow, Romanda had been able to call the meeting in her own tent. It had been a shock when Lelaine had shown up with not just Siuan but Sheriam in tow. But they'd never said how many attendants they could bring. And so Romanda was left with only Magla. The thick-shouldered woman sat beside Romanda, listening quietly to the confession. Should Romanda have sent for someone else? It would have looked very obvious, delaying the meeting for that.

It wasn't really an interrogation, however. Shemerin spoke freely, without resisting questions. She sat on a small stool before them. She'd refused a cushion for it. Romanda had rarely seen a woman as determined to punish herself as this poor child.