The Gathering Storm - By Robert Jordan & Brandon Sanderson Page 0,318

are better dead,” Egwene said, turning to her. “Trust me. I know this.” She turned to the others. “Back from the hole, everyone. Those blasts may have drawn attention.

“Shanal and Clara, watch this hole from a safe distance. Run to us if any to’raken land here. Do not attack them.”

Two girls nodded, taking up positions by the rubble. The other novices hurried away, chivvying the two strange invader women along with them. Egwene marched down the hallway behind them, like a general at the battle lines. And perhaps she was. Adelorna hastened to join her. “Well,” she said. “You have done nicely to organize, Egwene, though it’s good that an Aes—”

Egwene froze. Those eyes were so calm, so in control. “I am in command until this threat passes. You will call me Mother. Give me penance later if you must, but for now my authority must be unquestioned. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mother,” Adelorna found herself saying, shocked.

“Good. Where are your Warders?”

“One wounded,” Adelorna said. “One safe, with the other. One dead.”

“Light, woman, and you’re still standing?”

Adelorna straightened her back. “What other choice do I have?”

Egwene nodded. Why did her look of respect make Adelorna swell with pride?

“Well, I’m glad to have you,” Egwene said, resuming her walk. “We’ve only rescued six other Aes Sedai, none of them Green, and we’re having trouble keeping the Seanchan bottled at the eastern stairwells. I’ll have one of the novices show you how to unlock the bracelets; but don’t take any risks. Generally, it’s easier—and much safer—to kill the damane. How familiar are you with the Tower’s angreal storerooms?”

“Very,” Adelorna said.

“Excellent,” Egwene said, absently weaving as complex a weave as Adelorna had ever seen. A line of light broke the air, then rotated around itself, creating a hole into blackness. “Lucain, run and tell the others to hold. I’ll be bringing more angreal soon.”

A brunette novice bobbed her head and rushed away. Adelorna was still staring at that hole. “Traveling,” she said flatly. “You really have rediscovered it. I thought the reports wishful rumors.”

Egwene looked at her. “I’d have never shown you this, save that I just had a report that Elaida has been spreading knowledge of this weave. Knowledge of Traveling has been compromised. That means the Seanchan are likely to have it by now, assuming they’ve taken any women Elaida taught.”

“Mother’s milk in a cup!”

“Indeed,” Egwene said, eyes like ice. “We need to stop them and destroy any to’raken we see, with captives or not. If there’s any chance of stopping them from returning to Ebou Dar with someone who can Travel, we must take it.”

Adelorna nodded.

“Come,” Egwene said. “I need to know what items in this storeroom are angreal.” She stepped through the hole.

Adelorna stood, stunned, still thinking over what she’d been told. “You could have run,” she said. “You could have fled at any time.”

Egwene turned back to her, looking through the portal. “Fled?” she asked. “If I left, it wouldn’t have been fleeing you, Adelorna, it would have been abandoning you. I am the Amyrlin Seat. My place is here. I’m certain you’ve heard that I Dreamed this very attack.”

Adelorna felt a chill. She had indeed.

“Come,” Egwene repeated. “We must be quick. This is just a raid; they’ll want to grab as many channelers as possible and be off with them. I intend to see that they lose more damane than they gain Aes Sedai.”

CHAPTER 41

A Fount of Power

“Well, tie a kerchief on my face and call me Aiel,” said one of Bryne’s soldiers, kneeling beside the general at the prow of their narrow boat. “It really is there.”

Gawyn squatted at the prow of his own boat, the dark waters rippling and lapping at the sides of the vessel. They’d needed thirteen boats to carry them all, and had set into the river quietly and easily—at least, they had once Siuan Sanche had finished her inspection of the boats and decided they were riverworthy. Barely.

Each vessel carried a single, shielded lantern. Gawyn could barely make out the other boats sliding over the ebony water, the soldiers rowing them in near silence as they pulled up beside the stonework embankment on Tar Valon’s southwestern side. The flashes of light in the sky were distracting, and Gawyn kept finding himself glancing up, to see serpentine beasts illuminated briefly by cold white lightning or blazing crimson fire.

The White Tower itself seemed to burn. It lit a daunting profile in the sky, all white and red, outlined by flames. Smoke boiled toward the