“The Black Tower protects,” Logain heard himself say. “Always.”
“I will send him to you to be tested when he is of age,” the woman promised, holding her son. “I would have him join you, if he has the talent.”
The talent. Not the curse. The talent.
Light bathed them.
He stopped. That beam of light to the north… channeling like none he’d ever felt before, not even at the cleansing. Such power.
“It’s happening,” Gabrelle said, stepping up to him.
Logain reached to his belt, then took three items from his pouch. Discs, half white, half black. The nearby Asha’man turned toward him, pausing in Healing and comforting the people.
“Do it,” Gabrelle said. “Do it, Sealbreaker.”
Logain snapped the once unbreakable seals, one by one, and dropped the pieces to the ground.
CHAPTER
49
Light and Shadow
Everything was dead. In the wolf dream, Perrin stumbled across a rocky wasteland without plants or soil. The sky had gone black, the dark clouds themselves vanishing into that nothingness. As he climbed atop a ridge, an entire section of the ground behind him crumbled—his stone footing shaking violently—and was pulled into the air.
Beneath that was only emptiness.
In the wolf dream, all was being consumed. Perrin continued forward, toward Shayol Ghul. He could see it, like a beacon, glowing with light. Strangely, behind, he could make out Dragonmount, though it should have been far too distant to see. As the land between them crumbled, the world seemed to be shrinking.
The two peaks, pulling toward one another, all between shattered and broken. Perrin shifted to the front of the tunnel into the Pit of Doom, then stepped in, passing the violet barrier he’d erected earlier.
Lanfear lounged inside. Her hair was jet black, as it had been when he’d first met her, and her face was familiar. It looked as it once had.
“I find that dreamspike annoying,” she said. “Did you have to place it here?”
“It keeps the other Forsaken away,” Perrin said absently.
“I suppose it does that,” she said, folding her arms.
“He is still ahead?” Perrin asked.
“It is the end,” she said, nodding. “Something amazing just happened.” She narrowed her eyes. “This might be the most important moment for humankind since we opened the Bore.”
“Let’s make sure nothing goes wrong, then,” Perrin said, walking forward down the long maw of stone, Lanfear at his side.
At the end of the tunnel, they found an unexpected scene. Someone else was holding Callandor, the man that Rand had been fighting earlier. Maybe that was Demandred? Perrin did not know. He was certainly one of the Forsaken.
That man knelt on the floor, with Nynaeve’s hand on his shoulder. She stood just behind Rand and to the left. Moiraine was on Rand’s right, all three of them standing tall, with eyes forward, staring into the nothingness ahead.
The mountain rumbled.
“Perfect,” Lanfear whispered. “I couldn’t have dreamed that it could come out this well.” She eyed the two women. “We will need to strike quickly. I will kill the taller woman, you the shorter one.”
Perrin frowned. Something about that seemed very wrong. “Kill… ?”
“Of course,” Lanfear said. “If we strike quickly, there will still be time to seize control of Moridin while he holds that blade. With that, I can force Lews Therin to bow.” She narrowed her eyes. “He holds the Dark One between his fingers, needing only one squeeze to pinch the life—if it can be called that—away. Only one hand can save the Great Lord. In this moment, I earn my reward. In this moment, I become highest of the high.”
“You… you want to save the Dark One?” Perrin said, raising a hand to his head. “You joined us. I remember…”