Lord of Chaos (The Wheel of Time 6)

Morvrin frowned. She ran Beonin a close second in wanting proof. Nynaeve’s long-suffering expression was going to get her in trouble, whatever her tone. Before Elayne could say anything to take the Aes Sedai’s attention from Nynaeve, though, Leane spoke up with an expression close to a simper.

“Don’t you think we should go, now?”

Siuan snorted contemptuously at the timidity, and Leane cut her eyes at her sharply. “Yes, you’ll want to have as much time in the Tower as possible,” Siuan said, diffident in turn, and Leane sniffed.

They really did it very well. Sheriam and the others never suspected that Siuan and Leane were not simply two stilled women clinging to a purpose that might keep them alive, clinging to the edge of what they had been. Two women childishly at one another’s throats all the time. The Aes Sedai should have remembered that Siuan had had the reputation of a strong-willed and devious manipulator, and to a lesser extent so had Leane. Had they presented a unified front, or shown their true faces, the six would have remembered, and looked hard at everything the pair said. But divided, spitting rancor in each other’s face, all but groveling to the Aes Sedai and plainly not even aware of it . . . When one was reluctantly forced to agree with what the other said, it lent extra weight. When one objected on obviously frivolous grounds, so did that. Elayne knew they used the pretence to guide Sheriam and the others toward supporting Rand. She just wished she knew what else they used it for.

“They’re right,” Nynaeve said firmly, giving Siuan and Leane a disgusted look. Their pretence irked Nynaeve no end: Nynaeve would not have groveled for her life. “You should know by now that the longer you spend here, the less real rest you get. Sleep while you are in Tel’aran’rhiod doesn’t do as much good as ordinary sleep. Now, remember that if you see anything out of the ordinary, you need to be careful.” She truly did hate repeating herself — the fact showed clearly in her voice — but with these women, Elayne had to admit it was too often necessary. If only Nynaeve did not sound as if she were talking to dim-witted children. “When somebody dreams themselves into Tel’aran’rhiod like Gera, but they’re having a nightmare, sometimes the nightmare survives, and those are very dangerous. Avoid anything that looks unusual. And try to control your thoughts this time. What you think of here can become real. That Myrddraal that popped out of nowhere last time might have been a leftover nightmare, but I think one of you let her mind wander. You were talking about the Black Ajah, if you’ll remember, and discussing whether they were letting Shadowspawn into the Tower.” As if that were not bad enough, she had to add, “You won’t impress the Wise Ones tomorrow night if you drop a Myrddraal into the middle of everything.” Elayne winced.

“Child,” Anaiya said gently, adjusting the blue-fringed shawl that was suddenly looped over her arms, “you have been doing very good work, but that doesn’t excuse a peevish mouth.”

“You have been given a number of privileges,” Myrelle said, not at all gently, “but you seem to forget that they are privileges.” Her frown should have been enough to make Nynaeve quake. Myrelle had been increasingly hard on Nynaeve the past weeks. She had her shawl on, too. They all did, a bad sign.

Morvrin snorted bluntly. “When I was Accepted, any girl who spoke to an Aes Sedai that way would have spent the next month scrubbing floors, if she was due to be raised Aes Sedai the next day.”

Elayne spoke up hurriedly, hoping she could forestall their own disaster. Nynaeve had put on what she probably thought was a conciliatory face, but she looked sulky and stubborn. “I am sure she didn’t mean anything, Aes Sedai. We have been working very hard. Please forgive us.” Adding herself might help, since she had done nothing. It might also have them both scrubbing floors. At least it made Nynaeve look at her. And think, apparently, since her features smoothed into something that did seem appeasing and she made a curtsy and stared at the ground as though abashed. Maybe she really was. Maybe. Elayne rushed on as if Nynaeve had made a formal apology and had it accepted. “I know you

all do want to spend as much time as possible at the Tower, so perhaps we shouldn’t wait any longer? If you will all visualize Elaida’s study, just as you saw it last time?” Elaida was never called the Amyrlin in Salidar, and in the same way the Amyrlin’s study in the White Tower had its name shifted. “Everyone fix it in your minds, so we all arrive together.”

Anaiya was the first to nod, but even Carlinya and Beonin let themselves be diverted.

It was unclear whether the ten of them moved or Tel’aran’rhiod moved around them. It could have been either from the little Elayne really understood; the World of Dreams was almost infinitely malleable. One moment they were standing in the street in Salidar, the next in a large and ornate room. The Aes Sedai gave satisfied nods, still inexperienced enough to be pleased at anything that worked as they thought it should.

As surely as Tel’aran’rhiod reflected the waking world, this room reflected the power of the women who had occupied it over the last three thousand years. The gilded stand-lamps were unlit, but there was light, in the odd way of Tel’aran’rhiod and dreams. The tall fireplace was golden marble from Kandor, the floor polished redstone from the Mountains of Mist. The walls had been paneled a relatively short time ago — a mere thousand years — in pale wood, oddly striped and carved with marvelous beasts and birds that Elayne was sure had come straight out of the carver’s imagination. Gleaming pearly stone framed tall arched windows that let onto the balcony overlooking the Amyrlin’s private garden; that stone had been salvaged from a nameless city submerged in the Sea of Storms during the Breaking of the World, and no one had ever found its like elsewhere.

Each woman who used that room put her own mark on it, if only for the time of her possession, and Elaida was no different. A heavy throne-like chair, an ivory Flame of Tar Valon cresting the high back, stood behind a massive writing table ornately carved in triple-linked rings. The tabletop was bare except for three boxes of Altaran lacquerwork, each precisely the same distance from the next. A plain white vase stood atop a severe white plinth against one wall. The vase held roses, the number and color changing at every look, but always arranged with a harsh rigidity. Roses, at this time of year, in this weather! The One Power had been wasted to make them grow. Elaida had done the same when she was advisor to Elayne’s mother.

Above the fireplace hung a painting in the new style, on stretched canvas, of two men fighting among clouds, hurling lightning. One man had a face of fire, and the other was Rand. Elayne had been at Falme; the painting was not too far from the truth. A tear in the canvas across Rand’s face, as though something heavy had been thrown at it, had been mended almost invisibly. Plainly Elaida wanted a constant reminder of the Dragon Reborn, and just as plainly she was not happy having to look at it.

“If you will excuse me,” Leane said before all the satisfied nodding was done, “I must see if my people have received my messages.” Every Ajah except the White had a network of eyes-and-ears scattered across the nations, and so did a good many individual Aes Sedai, but Leane was rare, perhaps unique, in that as Keeper she had created a net in Tar Valon itself. No sooner had she spoken than she vanished.

“She should not be wandering about alone here,” Sheriam said in an exasperated voice. “Nynaeve, go after her. Stay with her.”

Nynaeve gave her braid a tug. “I don’t think — ”

“Very often you do not,” Myrelle cut her off. “For once do as you are told, when you are told, Accepted.”

Exchanging wry glances with Elayne, Nynaeve nodded, visibly suppressing a sigh, and disappeared. Elayne had little sympathy. Had Nynaeve not indulged her irritation back in Salidar it might have been possible to explain that Leane could be anywhere in the city, that it would be almost impossible to find her, and that she had been venturing into Tel’aran’rhiod alone for weeks.

“Now to see what we can learn,” Morvrin said, but before anyone could move, Elaida was behind the writing table, glaring.

An unyielding stern-faced woman, handsome rather than beautiful, and dark of hair and eye, Elaida wore a blood-red dress, with the striped stole of the Amyrlin Seat about her shoulders. “As I have Foretold,” she intoned. “The White Tower will be reunited under me. Under me!” She pointed harshly to the floor. “Kneel, and ask forgiveness of your sins!” With that, she was gone.

Elayne let out a long breath, and was gratified to realize she was not the only one.

“A Foretelling?” Beonin’s forehead creased thoughtfully. She did not sound worried, but she might well have. Elaida did have the Foretelling, if fitfully. When the Foretelling laid hold of a woman and she knew a thing would happen, it did.

“A dream,” Elayne said, and was surprised at how steady her voice was. “She’s asleep and dreaming. No wonder if she dreams everything to her liking.” Please, Light, let it only be that.

“Did you notice the stole?” Anaiya asked no one in particular. “It had no blue stripe.” The Amyrlin’s stole was supposed to have one stripe for each of the seven Ajahs.

“A dream,” Sheriam said flatly. She sounded unafraid, but she had her blue-fringed shawl on again and was clutching it around her. So was Anaiya.

“Whether it is or not,” Morvrin said placidly, “we may as well do what we came for.” Not much could frighten Morvrin.

The abrupt stir of activity at the Brown sister’s words made it suddenly clear how still everyone had gone. She, Carlinya and Anaiya glided swiftly out to the anteroom, where the Keeper’s worktable would be. That was Alviarin Freidhen, under Elaida; a White, strangely, though the Keeper always came from the Amyrlin’s own Ajah.

Siuan stared after them testily. She claimed there was often more to be learned from Alviarin’s papers than from Elaida’s, for Alviarin sometimes seemed to know more than the woman she supposedly served, and twice Siuan had found evidence that Alviarin had countermanded Elaida’s orders, apparently without repercussions. Not that she had told Elayne or Nynaeve what orders. There were definite limits to Siuan’s sharing.