Elayne glanced down, cursing at the pink silk. She wove some more, making her slippered feet vanish. The weave would make it appear as if she were floating in the air, wrapped in a pulsing shroud of darkness, cloak and straps of black cloth fluttering round her. Her face was hidden com-
pletely in blackness. As an added touch, she created two faintly glowing pricks of red where the eyes should be. Like coals radiating with a deep crimson light.
"Light preserve us," one of the Guards whispered.
Elayne nodded to herself, her heart quickening in excitement. She wasn't worried. She'd be safe. Min's viewing promised that. She ran through her plans again. They were solid. But there would be only one way to test them for certain.
Elayne inverted her weaves and tied them off. Then she turned to the Guards. "Turn out the lights," she said to them, "and remain perfectly still. I will return shortly."
"But " Kaila said.
"That is an order, Guardswoman," Elayne said firmly. "You had best obey it."
The woman hesitated. She likely knew that Birgitte would never let this happen. But Kaila was not Birgitte, thankfully. She reluctantly gave the order and the lights in the room were doused.
Elayne reached into her pocket and took out the foxhead medallion, the real one, and held it hidden and tucked in her hand. She took a deep breath, then created a gateway. The ribbon of light was bright in the blackened room, glowing and bathing them in a pale glow, like moonlight. It opened into a room that was similarly dark.
Elayne stepped through and found herself in the Palace dungeons, in one of the cells. A woman knelt on the far side of the cell, beside the sturdy door with a small window at the top, slotted with bars, that let in the only light in the dank cell. There was a small cot to Elayne's right and a bucket for a chamber pot to her left. The tiny room smelled of mold and human waste, and she could clearly hear the scratching of rats nearby. It still seemed too lavish quarters for the woman in front of her.
Elayne had chosen Chesmal with calculation. The woman had seemed to have some authority among the Black, and she was powerful enough that most of the others would bow to her. But she also had seemed more passionate than logical, when Elayne had last encountered her. That would be important.
The tall, handsome woman spun as soon as Elayne entered the cell. Elayne held her breath. Blessedly, the act worked. Chesmal threw herself to the straw-covered floor of the cell.
"Great One," the woman hissed. "I had "
"Silence!" Elayne shouted, her voice booming.
Chesmal cringed, then glanced to the side, as if waiting for the Guards outside to peek in. There would be Kinswomen there to hold Chesmal's
shield; Elayne could feel them. Nobody came, despite the sound. The Kin were following Elayne's orders, odd though those orders were.
"You are less than a rat," Elayne said with her disguised voice. "You were sent to see to the Great Lord's glory, but what have you done? Allowed yourself to be captured by these fools, these children ?"
Chesmal wailed, bowing herself further. "I am dust, Great One. I
am nothing! We have failed you. Please, do not destroy me!"
"And why shouldn't I?" Elayne barked. "The work of your particular group has been marked with failure after failure! What have you done that would possibly persuade me to allow you to live?"
"We have killed many of these fools who work against the Great Lord!" Chesmal wailed.
Elayne winced, then, steeling herself, created a whip of Air and lashed it across the woman's back. It was no more than Chesmal deserved. "You?" Elayne said. "You had nothing to do with their deaths! Do you think me stupid? Do you think me ignorant!"
"No, Great One," Chesmal wailed, curling up further. "Please!"
"Then give me reason to let you live."
"I have information, Great One," Chesmal said quickly. "One of those we were told to seek, the two men that must be killed at all costs . . . one is here in Caemlyn!"
What's this? Elayne hesitated. "Tell me more."
"He rides with a mercenary group," Chesmal said, sounding relieved to have information that was wanted. "He is the man with the keen eyes who wears the hat and carries the spear marked by ravens!"
Mat? The Darkfriends were hunting Mat? He was friends with Rand, true, and ta'veren. But what had Mat done to gain the ire of the Forsaken themselves? More disturbing was that Chesmal knew of Mat's presence in the city. He hadn't arrived until after the Black sisters had been captured! That meant. . . .
That meant Chesmal and the others were in contact with other Dark-friends. But who? "And how did you discover this? Why was this not reported earlier?"
"I got news this very day, Great One," Chesmal said, sounding more self-assured now. "We are planning an assassination."