— can't hold much longer. If she does not come out now—
Hold! Hold, burn you, or I'll gut you all like sturgeons!
—going wild, Mother! We can't—
The voices faded to a drone, the drone to silence, but the unknowable spoke again.
The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.
There is a price to be Aes Sedai.
The Black Ajah waits.
With a scream of rage, of loss, Egwene threw herself at the arch as it shimmered like a heat haze. She almost wished she would miss and plunge to her death.
Light plucked her apart fiber by fiber, sliced the fibers to hairs, split the hairs to wisps of nothing. All drifted apart on the light. Forever.
Chapter 23
(Serpent and Wheel)
Sealed
Light pulled her apart fiber by fiber, sliced the fibers to hairs that drifted apart, burning. Drifting and burning, forever. Forever.
Egwene stepped out of the silver arch cold and stiff with anger. She wanted the iciness of anger to counter the searing of memory. Her body remembered burning, but other memories scored and scorched more deeply. Anger cold as death.
“Is that all there is for me?” she demanded. “To abandon him again and again. To betray him, fail him, again and again? Is that what there is for me?”
Suddenly she realized that all was not as it should be. The Amyrlin was there now, as Egwene had been taught she would be, and a shawled sister from each Ajah, but they all stared at her worriedly. Two Aes Sedai now sat at each place around the ter'angreal, sweat running down their faces. The ter'angreal hummed, almost vibrated, and violent streaks of color tore the white light inside the arches.
The glow of saidar briefly enveloped Sheriam as she put a hand on Egwene's head, sending a new chill through her. “She is well.” The Mistress of Novices sounded relieved. “She is unharmed.” As if she had not expected it.
Tension seemed to go out of the other Aes Sedai facing Egwene. Elaida let out a long breath, then hurried away for the last chalice. Only the Aes Sedai around the ter'angreal did not relax. The hum had lessened, and the light began the flickering that signaled the ter'angreal was settling toward quiescence, but those Aes Sedai looked as if they were fighting it every inch of the way.
“What...? What happened?” Egwene asked.
“Be silent,” Sheriam said, but gently. “For now, be silent. You are well — that is the main thing — and we must complete the ceremony.” Elaida came, close to running, and handed the final silver chalice to the Amyrlin.
Egwene hesitated only a moment before kneeling. What happened?
The Amyrlin emptied the chalice slowly over Egwene's head. “You are washed clean of Egwene al'Vere from Emond's Field. You are washed clean of all ties that bind you to the world. You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul. You are Egwene al'Vere, Accepted of the White Tower.” The last drop splashed onto Egwene's hair. “You are sealed to us, now.”
The last words seemed to have a special meaning, just between Egwene and the Amyrlin. The Amyrlin thrust the chalice at one of the other Aes Sedai and produced a gold ring in the shape of a serpent biting its own tail. Despite herself, Egwene trembled as she raised her left hand, trembled again as the Amyrlin slipped the Great Serpent ring onto the third finger. When she became Aes Sedai, she could wear the ring on the finger she chose, or not at all if it was necessary to hide who she was, but the Accepted wore it there.
Unsmiling, the Amyrlin pulled her to her feet. “Welcome, Daughter,” she said, kissing her cheek. Egwene was surprised to feel a thrill. Not child, but daughter. Always before she had been child. The Amyrlin kissed her other cheek. “Welcome.”
Stepping back, the Amyrlin regarded her critically, but spoke to Sheriam. “Get her dry and into some clothes, then be certain she is well. Certain, you understand.”
“I am certain, Mother.” Sheriam sounded surprised. “You saw me delve her.”
The Amyrlin grunted, and her eyes shifted to the ter'angreal. “I mean to know what went wrong tonight.” She strode away in the direction of her glare, skirts swaying purposefully. Most of the other Aes Sedai joined her around the ter'angreal, now only a silver structure of arches on a ring.
“The Mother is worried about you,” Sheriam said as she drew Egwene to one side, to where there was a thick towel for her hair, and another for the rest of her.“How much reason did she have?” Egwene asked. The Amyrlin wants nothing to happen to her hound till the deer is pulled down.
Sheriam did not answer. She merely frowned slightly, then waited until Egwene was dry before handing her a white dress banded at the bottom with seven rings.
She slipped into that dress with a flash of disappointment. She was one of the Accepted, with the ring on her finger and the bands on her dress. Why don't I feel any different?