"We don’t know how the Lord Dragon is doing", she said softly, gliding onto a stool beside his bed. Beside the wall, Janina took Uno by the arm. He shivered as the Healing coursed through him.
"Rand still fights", Perrin said.
"Too much time has passed", she said. There was something she wasn’t telling him, something she was dancing around. He could smell it on her.
"Rand still fights", Perrin repeated. "If he had lost, we wouldn’t be here". He leaned back, exhaustion deep in his bones. Light! He couldn’t just lie here while men died, could he? "Time is different at the Bore. I visited it and saw firsthand. It has been many days out here, but I’ll bet it has only been a day for Rand. Maybe less".
"That is well. I will pass what you say to the others".
"Berelain", Perrin said. "I need you to do something for me. I sent Elyas with a message to our armies, but I don’t know if he delivered it. Graendal is interfering with the minds of our great captains. Will you find out for me if his message arrived?"
"It arrived", she said. "Almost too late, but it arrived. You did well. Sleep now, Perrin". She rose.
"Berelain?" he asked.
She turned back to him.
"Faile", he said. "What of Faile?"
Her anxiety sharpened. No.
"Her supply caravan was destroyed in a bubble of evil, Perrin", Berelain said softly. "I’m sorry".
"Was her body recovered?" he forced himself to ask.
"No".
"Then she still lives".
"It—"
"She still lives!" Perrin insisted. He would have to assume that was true. If he didn’t . . .
"There is, of course, hope", she said, then walked to Uno, who was flexing his Healed arm, and nodded for him to join her as she left the room. Janina was puttering around the washstand. Perrin could still hear moaning in the hallways outside, and the place smelled of healing herbs and of pain.
Light, he thought. Faile’s caravan had carried the Horn. Did the Shadow now have it?
And Gaul. He had to return to Gaul. He’d left the man in the wolf dream, guarding Rand’s back. If Perrin’s exhaustion was any guide, Gaul couldn’t hold much longer.
Perrin felt as if he could sleep for weeks. Janina returned to his bedside, then shook her head. "There is no good purpose in trying to force yourself to hold your eyes open, Perrin Aybara".
"I have too much to do, Janina. Please. I need to return to the battlefield and—"
"You will stay here, Perrin Aybara. You are of no use to anyone in your state, and will gain no ji by trying to prove otherwise. If the blacksmith who brought you here knew I’d let you stumble off and die on the battlefield, I believe he’d come try to hang me out the window by my heels". She hesitated. "And that one . . . I almost think he could manage it".
"Master Luhhan", Perrin said, recalling faintly those moments before he blacked out. "He was there. He found me?"
"He saved your life", Janina said. "That man threw you on his back and ran you to an Aes Sedai for a gateway. You were seconds from death when he arrived. Considering your size, just lifting you is some feat".
"I don’t really need sleep", Perrin said, feeling his eyes droop. "I need . . . I need to get . . ".
"I’m sure you do", Janina said.
Perrin let his eyes shut. That would convince her that he was going to do as she said. Then, when she left, he could stand up.
"I’m sure you do", Janina repeated, her voice growing softer for some reason.
Sleep, he thought. I'm falling asleep. Again, he saw the three paths before himself. This time, one led to ordinary sleep, another to the wolf dream while sleeping, the path he usually took.
And between them, a third path. The wolf dream in the flesh.
He was sorely tempted, but in the moment, he chose not to take that path. He chose ordinary sleep, as—in a moment of understanding—he knew that his body would die without it.
Androl lay, gasping for breath, staring up at the sky somewhere far from the battlefield, following their flight from the top of the Heights.
That attack . . . it had been so powerful.
What was that? he sent to Pevara.
It wasn't Taim, she replied, standing up, dusting off her skirts. I think it was Demandred.
I purposefully brought us to a place far from where he was fighting.
Yes. How dare he move and interfere with the group of channelers attacking his forces?
Androl sat up, groaning. You know, Pevara, you are unusually smart-lipped, for an Aes Sedai.
He was surprised by her amusement. You don’t know Aes Sedai nearly as well as you assume. She walked over to check on Emarin’s wounds.
Androl took a deep breath, filled with the scents of autumn. Fallen leaves. Stagnant water. An autumn that had come too early. Their hillside looked down on a valley where, in defiance of the way the world was going, some farmers had tilled the earth in large squares.
Nothing had grown.
Nearby, Theodrin pulled herself up. "It’s madness back there", she said, her face flushed.
Androl could feel Pevara’s disapproval. The girl should not have been so free with her emotions; she hadn’t learned proper Aes Sedai control yet.
She isn’t a proper Aes Sedai, Pevara sent him, reading his thoughts. Regardless of what the Amyrlin claims. She hasn’t been through the testing yet.
Theodrin seemed to know what Pevara thought, and the two kept their distance from one another. Pevara Healed Emarin, who took it stoically. Theodrin Healed a cut on Jonneth’s arm. He seemed bemused at the motherly ministration.
She’ll have him bonded before long, Pevara sent him. Notice how she let one of the other women take her one of the fifty, then started following him about? We’ve barely been rid of her since the Black Tower.
What if he bonds her back? Androl sent.
Then we’ll see if what you and I have is unique or not. Pevara hesitated. We are stumbling upon things that have never been known.
He met her eyes. She was referring to whatever had happened during their linking this last time. She had opened a gateway, but had done it as he would have.
We’re going to need to try that again, he sent her.
Shortly, she said, Delving Emarin to be certain her Healing had taken.
"I am quite all right, Pevara Sedai", he said, courteous as always. "And if I might note, you seem as if you could use some Healing of your own".
She looked down at the burned cloth on her arm. She was still timid about letting a man Heal her, but also annoyed at her own timidity.
"Thank you", she said, her voice level as she let him touch her arm and channel.
Androl unhooked the small tin cup from his belt, and absently lifted his hand, fingers downward. He pressed his fingers as if pinching something between them, and when he spread them, a small gateway opened in the middle. Water poured out, filling the cup.
Pevara sat down beside him, accepting the cup as he offered it. She drank, then sighed. "As cool as mountain springwater".
"That’s what it is", Androl said.
"That reminds me, I’ve been meaning to ask you something. How do you do that?"
"Do this?" he said. "It’s just a small gateway".
"That’s not what I mean. Androl, you just got here. You couldn’t possibly have had time to memorize this area well enough to open a gateway to some mountain spring hundreds of miles away".
Androl stared blankly at Pevara, as if he had just heard a surprising piece of news. "I don’t know. Maybe it’s something to do with my Talent". "I see". Pevara was silent a moment. "By the way, what happened to your sword?"
Androl reached by reflex to his side. The sheath hung there, empty. He’d dropped his sword when the lightning had struck near them, and he hadn’t had the presence of mind to grab it as they fled. He groaned. "Garfin would send me to grind barley at the quartermaster’s for weeks straight if he heard of this".
"It’s not that important", Pevara said. "You have better weapons".
"It’s the principle", Androl said. "Carrying a sword reminds me. It’s like . . . well, seeing a net reminds me of fishing around Mayene, and springwater reminds me of Jain. Small things, but small things matter. I need to be a soldier again. We have to find Taim, Pevara. The seals . . ".
"Well, we can’t find him the way we’ve been trying. Do you agree?"
He sighed, but nodded.
"Excellent", she said. "I hate being a target".
"What do we do instead?"
"We approach this with careful study, not with swinging swords".
She probably had a point. "And . . . what we did? Pevara, you used my Talent".
"We shall see", she said, sipping from her cup. "Now, if only this were tea".
Androl raised his eyebrows. He took the cup back, opened a small gateway between two fingers and dropped a few dried tea leaves into the cup. He boiled it for a moment with a thread of Fire, then dropped in some honey through another gateway.
"Had some back in my workshop in the Black Tower", he said, handing the cup back. "It looks like nobody moved it".
She sipped the tea, then smiled warmly. "Androl, you are wonderful".
He smiled. Light! How long had it been since he’d felt this way about a woman? Love was supposed to be something for young fools, wasn’t it?
Of course, the young fools never could see straight. They’d look for a pretty face, and stop there. Androl had been around long enough to know that a pretty face was nothing compared to the type of solidity a woman like Pevara displayed. Control, steadiness, determination. These were things that only proper seasoning could bring.
It was the same way with leather. New leather was fine, but really good leather was leather that had been used and worn, like a strap that had been cared for over the years. You never knew for certain if you could rely on a new strap. Once it had been your companion for a few seasons, you knew.
"I’m trying to read that thought", Pevara said. "Did you just . . . compare me to an old strap of leather?"
He blushed.
"I’ll assume it’s a leatherworker’s thing". She sipped her tea.
"Well, you keep comparing me to . . . what is it? A bunch of little figurines?"
She smiled. "My family".
"The ones killed by Darkfriends. I'm sorry".
"It happened very, very long ago, Androl". He could sense that she was still angry about it, though.
"Light", he said. "I keep forgetting that you’re older than most trees, Pevara".
"Hmm . . ". she said. "First I’m a strap of leather, now I’m older than trees. I assume that, despite the several dozen jobs you’ve had in your life, none of your training involves how to speak with a lady?"
He shrugged. When younger, he might have been embarrassed to have his tongue tied in such knots, but he’d learned that there was just no way to avoid it. Trying to do so only made it worse. Oddly, the way he reacted pleased her. Women liked to see a man flummoxed, he supposed.