“Forgive me, Verin Sedai, but if this” — Egwene indicated the lines drawn in the dust — “has nothing to do with being a Dreamer, why are you telling me about it?”
Verin stared at her as if she were deliberately being dense. “Nothing? Of course it has something to do with it, child. The point is that there is a third constant besides the Creator and the Dark One. There is a world that lies within each of these others, inside all of them at the same time. Or perhaps surrounding them. Writers in the Age of Legends called it Tel'aran'rhiod, ”the Unseen World.“ Perhaps ”the World of Dreams“ is a better translation. Many people — ordinary folk who could not think of channeling — sometimes glimpse Tel'aran'rhiod in their dreams, and even catch glimmers of these other worlds through it. Think of some of the peculiar things you have seen in your dreams. But a Dreamer, child — a true Dreamer — can enter Tel'aran'rhiod.”
Egwene tried to swallow, but a lump in her throat stopped her. Enter it? “I... I don't think I am a Dreamer, Verin Sedai. Anaiya Sedai's tests — ”
Verin cut her off.“ — prove nothing one way or the other. And Anaiya still believes that you may very tell be one.”
“I suppose I will learn whether I am or not eventually,” Egwene mumbled. Light, I want to be, don't I? I want to learn! I want it all.
“You have no time to wait, child. The Amyrlin has entrusted a great task to you and Nynaeve. You must reach out for any tool you might be able to use.” Verin dug a red wooden box from under the welter on her table. The box was large enough to hold sheets of paper, but when the Aes Sedai opened the lid a crack, all she pulled out was a ring carved from stone, all flecks and stripes of blue and brown and red, and too large to be a finger ring. “Here, child.”
Egwene shifted the papers to take it, and her eyes widened in surprise. The ring certainly looked like stone, but it felt harder than steel and heavier than lead. And the circle of it was twisted. If she ran a finger along one edge, it would go around twice, inside as well as out; it only had one edge. She moved her finger along that edge twice, just to convince herself.
“Corianin Nedeal,” Verin said, “had that ter'angreal in her possession for most of her life. You will keep it, now.”
Egwene almost dropped the ring. A ter'angreal? I am to keep a ter'angreal?
Verin seemed not to notice her shock. “According to her, it eases the passage to Tel'aran'rhiod. She claimed it would work for those without Talent as well as for Aes Sedai, so long as you are touching it when you sleep. There are dangers, of course. Tel'aran'rhiod is not like other dreams. What happens there is real; you are actually there instead of just glimpsing it.” She pushed back the sleeve of her dress, revealing a faded scar the length of her forearm. “I tried it myself, once, some years ago. Anaiya's Healing did not work as well as it should have. Remember that.” The Aes Sedai let her sleeve cover the scar again.
“I will be careful, Verin Sedai.” Real? My dreams are bad enough as they are. I want no dreams that leave scars! I'll put it in a sack and stick it in a dark corner and leave it there. I'll — But she wanted to learn. She wanted to be Aes Sedai, and no Aes Sedai had been a Dreamer in nearly five hundred years. “I'll be very careful.” She slipped the ring into her pouch and tugged the drawstrings tight, then picked up the papers Verin had given her.
“Remember to keep it hidden, child. No novice, or even an Accepted, should have a thing like that in her possession. But it may prove useful to you. Keep it hidden.”
“Yes, Verin Sedai.” Remembering Verin's scar, she almost wished another Aes Sedai would come along and take it from her right then.
“Good, child. Now, off with you. It grows late, and you must be up early to help with breakfast. Sleep well.”
Verin sat looking at the door for a time after it closed behind Egwene. The owl hooted softly behind her. Pulling the red box to her, she opened the lid all the way and frowned at what nearly filled the space.
Page upon page, covered with a precise hand, the black ink barely faded after nearly five hundred years. Corianin Nedeal's notes, everything she had learned in fifty years of studying that peculiar ter'angreal. A secretive woman, Corianin. She had kept by far the greater part of her knowledge from everyone, trusting it only to these pages. Only chance and a habit of rummaging through old papers in the library had led Verin to them. As far as she could discover, no Aes Sedai besides herself knew of the ter'angreal; Corianin had managed to erase its existence from the records.
Once again she considered burning the manuscript, just as she had considered giving it to Egwene. But destroying knowledge, any knowledge, was anathema to her. And for the other... No. It is best by far to leave things as they are. What will happen, will happen. She let the lid drop shut. Now where did I put that page?
Frowning, she began to search the stacks of books and papers for the leather folder. Egwene was already out of her mind.
Chapter 22
(Flame of Tar Valon)
The Price of The Ring
Egwene had only gone a short distance from Verin's rooms when Sheriam met her. The Mistress of Novices wore a preoccupied frown.
“If someone hadn't remembered Verin speaking to you, I might not have found you.” The Aes Sedai sounded mildly irritated. “Come along, child. You are holding everything up! What are those papers?”
Egwene clutched them a little tighter. She tried to make her voice both meek and respectful. “Verin Sedai thinks I should study them, Aes Sedai.” What would she do if Sheriam asked to see them? What excuse could she give for refusing, what explanation for pages telling all about thirteen women of the Black Ajah and the ter'angreal they had stolen?
But Sheriam seemed to have dismissed the papers from her mind as soon as she asked. “Never mind that. You are wanted, and everyone is waiting.” She took Egwene's arm and forced her to walk faster.
“Wanted, Sheriam Sedai? Waiting for what?”
Sheriam shook her head with exasperation. “Did you forget that you are to be raised to the Accepted? When you come to my study tomorrow, you will be wearing the ring, though I doubt it will soothe you very much.”
Egwene tried to stop short, but the Aes Sedai hurried her on, taking a narrow set of stairs that curled down through the library walls. “Tonight? Already? But I am halfasleep, Aes Sedai, and dirty, and... I thought I would have days yet. To get ready. To prepare.”
“The hour waits on no woman,” Sheriam said. “The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills, when the Wheel wills. Besides, how would you prepare? You already know the things you must. More than your friend Nynaeve did.” She pushed Egwene through a tiny door at the foot of the stairs and hurried her across another hall to a ramp curving down and down.
“I listened to the lectures,” Egwene protested, “and I remember them, but... can't I have a night's sleep first?” The winding ramp seemed to have no end.