Towers of Midnight (The Wheel of Time 13)

Graendal needed a victory, a decisive one. She sifted through the different plans she'd devised, selecting the most likely to succeed. She couldn't move against al'Thor? Very well. She would bring to the Great Lord something he'd long desired.

"Perrin Aybara," Graendal said. She felt exposed, having to reveal her intentions to Moridin. She preferred to keep her plots to herself. However, she doubted she'd be able to escape this meeting without telling him. "I will bring you his head."

Moridin turned toward the fire, clasping his hands behind his back. He watched the flames.

With a shock, she felt sweat trickle down her brow. What? She was able to avoid heat and cold. What was wrong? She maintained her focus . . . it just didn't work. Not here. Not near him.

That unsettled her deeply.

"He's important," Graendal said. "The prophecies "

"I know the prophecies," Moridin said softly. He did not turn. "How would you do it?"

"My spies have located his army," Graendal said. "I have already set some plans in motion regarding him, just in case. I retain the group of Shadowspawn given me to cause chaos, and I have a trap prepared. It will break al'Thor, ruin him, if he loses Aybara."

"It will do more than that," Moridin said softly. "But you will never manage it. His men have gateways. He will escape you."

"I-"

"He will escape you," Moridin said softly.

The sweat trickled down her cheek, then to her chin. She wiped it casually, but her brow continued to bead.

"Come," Moridin said, striding from the hearth and toward the hallway outside.

Graendal followed, curious but afraid. Moridin led her to a nearby door, set in the same black stone walls. He pushed it open.

Graendal followed him inside. The narrow room was lined with shelves. And on them were dozens perhaps hundreds of objects of Power. Darkness within! she thought. Where did he get so many?

Moridin walked to the end of the room, where he picked through objects on a shelf. Graendal entered, awed. "Is that a shocklance?" she asked, pointing to a long thin bit of metal. "Three binding rods? A rema'kar? Those pieces of a sho "

"It is unimportant," he said, selecting an item.

"If I could just "

"You are close to losing favor, Graendal," he said, turning and holding a long, spikelike piece of metal, silvery and topped with a large metal head set with golden inlay. "I have found only two of these. The other is being put to good use. You may use this one."

"A dreamspike?" she said, eyes opening wide. How badly she'd wanted to have one of these! "You found two?"

He tapped the top of the dreamspike and it vanished from his hand. "You will know where to find it?"

"Yes," she said, growing hungry. This was an object of great Power. Useful in so many different ways.

Moridin stepped forward, seizing her eyes with his own. "Graendal," he said softly, dangerously. "I know the key for this one. It will not be used against me, or others of the Chosen. The Great Lord will know if you do. Ido not wish your apparent habit to be indulged further, not until Aybara is dead."

"I . . . yes, of course." She felt cold, suddenly. How could she feel cold here? And while still sweating?

"Aybara can walk the World of Dreams," Moridin said. "I will lend you another tool, the man with two souls. But he is mine, just as that spike is mine. Just as you are mine. Do you understand?"

She nodded. She couldn't help herself. The room seemed to be growing darker. That voice of his . . . it sounded, just faintly, like that of the Great Lord.

"Let me tell you this, however," Moridin said, reaching forward with his right hand, cupping her chin. "If you do succeed, the Great Lord will be pleased. Very pleased. That which has been granted you in sparseness will be heaped upon you in glory."

She licked her dry lips. In front of her, Moridin's expression grew distant.

"Moridin?" she asked hesitantly.

He ignored her, releasing her chin and walking to the end of the room. From a table, he picked up a thick tome wrapped in pale tan skin. He flipped to a certain page and studied it for a moment. Then he waved for her to approach.