"I’ll serve them", Androl said. "I’ll swear to the Great Lord".
"That’s good, Androl", Evin said. "But we can’t let you go until you’ve been Turned. M’Hael won’t accept just an oath. It will be all right. I told them that you’d Turn easily. You will, won’t you? Not resisting?"
"I won’t resist".
"Thank the Great Lord", Evin said, relaxing.
Oh, Evin. You never were terribly bright.
"Evin", Androl said softly, "you need to watch out for Abors. You know that, right?"
"I’m one of them now, Androl", Evin said. "I don’t have to worry about them".
"That’s good", Androl whispered. "What I heard him say about you must have been nothing".
Evin fidgeted. That look in his eyes . . . it was fright. The taint had been cleansed. Jonneth, Emarin and the other new Asha’man would never have to suffer the madness.
It manifested differently in different Asha’man, and at different rates. However, the fear was the most common. It came in waves; it had been consuming Evin when the cleansing happened. Androl had seen Asha’man need to be put down as the taint overwhelmed them. He knew that look in Evin’s eyes well. Though the lad had been Turned, he still carried the madness with him. He would do so forever.
"What did he say?" Evin said.
"He didn’t like it that you had been Turned", Androl said. "He thinks you’ll take his place".
"Oh".
"Evin . . . he might be planning to kill you. Take care".
Evin stood up. "Thank you, Androl".
He walked away, leaving Androl ungagged.
That. . . can’t possibly work, Pevara sent drowsily.
She hadn’t lived among them long enough. She hadn’t seen what the madness could do, and didn’t know to recognize it in the eyes of the Asha’man. Normally, when one of them became like this, they would take him and confine him until he rode it out. If that didn’t work, Taim added something to their wine, and they didn’t wake up.
If they weren’t stopped, they would descend to destruction. They would kill those closest to them, lashing out first at people they should have loved.
Androl knew that madness. He knew it was inside of him, too. That is a mistake, Taim, he thought. You use our own friends against us, but we know them better than you do.
Evin struck at Abors. It came in a burst of the One Power. A second later, Androl’s shield dropped.
Androl embraced the Source. He was not very strong, but he had enough Power to burn away a few ropes. He rolled free of his bindings, hands bloodied, and took stock of the room. He hadn’t been able to see it before, not entirely.
The room was bigger than he’d assumed, the size of a small throne room. A wide circular dais dominated the far end, topped by a double ring of Myrddraal and women. He shivered as he saw the Fades. Light, but that eyeless gaze was awful.
Taim’s exhausted men stood by the far wall, the Asha’man who had failed to Turn Logain. He sat on the dais, slouching and tied to a chair in the center of the double ring. Like a throne. Logain’s head rolled to the side, his eyes closed. He appeared to be whispering something.
Taim had spun, furious, toward Evin, who fought with Mishraile beside Abors’ smoking corpse. Evin and Mishraile each held the One Power, wrestling on the floor, a knife in Evin’s hands.
Androl scrambled toward Emarin, then nearly fell on his face as his legs gave out. Light! He was weak, but he did manage to burn away Emarin’s bonds, then Pevara’s. She shook her head, trying to clear it. Emarin nodded in gratitude.
"Can you weave?" Androl whispered. Taim’s attention was on Evin’s fight.
Emarin shook his head. "The drink they gave us . . ".
Androl clung to the One Power. Shadows began to lengthen around him.
No! he thought. No, not now!
A gateway. He needed a gateway! Androl sucked in the One Power, forming the weave for Traveling. And yet, as before, he hit some kind of barrier—like a wall, preventing him from opening the gateway. Frustrated, he tried to make one to a closer destination. Perhaps distance mattered. Could he make a gateway to Canler’s store above them?
He struggled against that wall, fighting with everything he had. He strained, inching closer; he could almost do it . . . He felt as if something was happening.
"Please", he whispered. "Please, open. We need to get out of here . . ".
Evin fell to Taim’s weave.
"What was that?" Taim bellowed.
"I don’t know", Mishraile said. "Evin attacked us! He had been talking to the pageboy, and—"
Both spun toward Androl. Androl stopped trying to make the gateway, instead flinging a weave of fire in desperation toward Taim.
Taim smiled. By the time Androl’s tongue of fire reached him, it vanished into a weave of Air and Water that dissipated it.
"You are a persistent one", Taim said, slamming Androl against the wall with a weave of Air.
Androl gasped in pain. Emarin stumbled dizzily to his feet, but a second weave of Air knocked him down. Dazed, Androl felt himself hoisted up and pulled across the room.
The ugly woman wearing black stepped out of the circle of Aes Sedai and walked up beside Taim. "So, M’Hael", she said. "You are not nearly as in control of this place as you indicated".
"I have inferior tools", Taim said. "I should have been given more women earlier!"
"You ran your Asha’man to exhaustion", the woman replied. "You squandered their strength. I will take charge here".
Taim stood on the dais, beside Logain’s slumped form, the women and the Fades. He seemed to consider this woman, perhaps one of the Forsaken, a greater threat than anyone else in the room.
"You think that will work, do you?" Taim asked.
"When the Nae’blis hears of how you are bungling—"
"The Nae’blis? I care not for Moridin. I have already provided a gift to the Great Lord himself. Beware, I am in his favor. I hold the keys in my hands, Hessalam".
"You mean . . . you actually did it? You stole them?"
Taim smiled. He turned back to Androl, who hung in the air, struggling without success. He wasn’t shielded. He flung another weave at Taim, but the man blocked it indifferently.
Androl wasn’t even worth shielding. Taim dropped him from the weaves of Air. Androl hit the ground hard. He grunted.
"How long have you trained here, Androl?" Taim asked. "You shame me. That is the best you can do when trying to kill?"
Androl struggled to his knees. He felt pain and worry from Pevara behind, her mind clouded with forkroot. In front of him, Logain sat on his throne, locked in place, surrounded by the enemy. The man’s eyes were closed; he was barely conscious.
"We are done here", Taim said. "Mishraile, kill these captives. We will take those above and carry them to Shayol Ghul. The Great Lord has promised me more resources for my work there".
Taim’s lackeys approached. Androl looked up from his knees. The darkness grew all around, shapes moving in the shadows. The darkness . . . it terrified him. He had to let go of saidin, he had to. And yet, he could not.
He had to begin weaving.
Taim glanced at him, then smiled and wove balefire.
Shadows, all around!
Androl clung to the Power.
The dead, they come for me!
He wove by instinct, the best weave he knew. A gateway. He hit that wall, that blasted wall.
So tired. Shadows . . . Shadows will take me.
A white-hot bar of light sprang from Taim’s fingers, pointed right at Androl. Androl shouted, straining, thrusting his hands forward and snapping his weave into place. He hit that wall and heaved.
A gateway the width of a coin opened in front of him. He caught the stream of balefire in it.
Taim frowned, and the room grew still, stunned Asha’man pausing their weaves. At that moment, the door to the room exploded inward.
Canler, holding the One Power, roared in. He was followed by the twenty or so Two Rivers boys who had come to train in the Black Tower.
Taim yelled, embracing the Source. "We are attacked!"
The dome seemed to be centered on the building project he’d noted. That was bad; with those foundations and pits, Slayer would have plenty of places to hide and ambush him.
Once they reached the village, Perrin pointed to a particularly large building. Two stories, built like an inn, with a solid wooden roof. "I’m going to take you up there", Perrin whispered. "Ready your bow. Yell if you spot anyone trying to sneak up on me, all right?"
Gaul nodded. Perrin shifted them up onto the top of the building, and Gaul took position by the chimney. His clothing blended to match the color of the clay bricks, and he stayed low, bow out. It wouldn’t have the range of a longbow, but from here, he’d be deadly.
Perrin dropped to the ground, floating softly the last inch or so in order to keep from making noise. He crouched and shifted to the side of a building just ahead. He shifted again, to the edge of the last building in the row before the excavation, then looked over his shoulder. Gaul, hidden quite well up above, raised his fingers. He had tracked Perrin.
From here, Perrin crept forward on his belly, not wanting to shift to a place he couldn’t see directly. He reached the lip of the first cavernous foundation hole and looked down on a dirt floor. The wind still blew, and dust swirled down below, obscuring any tracks that might have been left.
Perrin rose to a crouch and began to make his way around the perimeter of the large foundation. Where would the exact center of the dome be? He couldn’t tell; it was too large. He kept his eyes open.
His attention was so focused on the foundation holes that he nearly walked right into the guards. A quiet chuckle from one of them alerted him, and he shifted immediately, jumping to the other side of the foundation and dropping to his knees, Two Rivers longbow appearing in his hands. He scanned the area he’d left, now distant.
Fool, he thought, finally spotting them. The two men lounged in a shack built beside the foundations. The shack was the type of structure you’d expect workers to take meals in. Perrin looked about anxiously, but Slayer did not rise out of hiding to attack him, and the two guards failed to spot him.
He couldn’t make out many details, so he cautiously shifted back to near where he’d been. He dropped down into the foundation and created an earthen ledge on its side to stand on while peering over the lip of the hole into the shack.
Yes, there were two of them. Men in black coats. Asha’man. He thought he recognized them from the aftermath of Dumai’s Wells, where they had rescued Rand. They were loyal to him, weren’t they? Had Rand sent help for Perrin?
Light burn that man, Perrin thought. Couldn’t he just be upfront with everyone for once?
Of course, even Asha’man could be Darkfriends. Perrin debated climbing out of the pit and confronting them.
"Broken tools", Lanfear said idly.
Perrin jumped, cursing to find her standing on the ledge beside him, peeking up at the two men.
"They’ve been Turned", she said. "I’ve always found that to be a wasteful business. You lose something in the transformation—they will never serve as well as if they’d come willingly. Oh, they’ll be loyal, but the light is gone. The self-motivation, the spark of ingenuity that makes people into people".