Another man, wrestling with a bale being swung out of the hold on a cable, shouted to him, and he left the women without a backwards glance.
Egwene exchanged looks with Nynaeve. It seemed they really were on their own.
Nynaeve stalked off the ship with grim determination on her face, but Egwene made her way dejectedly down the gangplank and through the tarry smell that hung over the wharf. All that talk about wanting us here, and now they don’t seem to care.
Broad stairs led up from the dock to a wide arch of dark redstone. On reaching it, Egwene and Nynaeve stopped to stare.
Every building seemed a palace, though most of those close to the arch seemed to contain inns or shops, from the signs over the doors. Fanciful stonework was everywhere, and the lines of one structure seemed designed to complement and set off the next, leading the eye along as if everything were part of one vast design. Some structures did not look like buildings at all, but like gigantic waves breaking, or huge shells, or fanciful, wind-sculpted cliffs. Right in front of the arch lay a broad square, with a fountain and trees, and Egwene could see another square further on. Above everything rose the towers, tall and graceful, some with sweeping bridges between them, high in the sky. And over all rose one tower, higher and wider than all the rest, as white as the Shining Walls themselves.
“Fair takes the breath at first sight,” said a woman’s voice behind them. “At tenth sight, for that. And at hundredth.”
Egwene turned. The woman was Aes Sedai; Egwene was sure of it, though she wore no shawl. No one else had that ageless look; and she held herself with an assurance, a confidence that seemed to confirm it. A glance at her hand showed the golden ring, the serpent biting its own tail. The Aes Sedai was a little plump, with a warm smile, and one of the oddest-appearing women Egwene had ever seen. Her plumpness could not hide high cheekbones, her eyes had a tilt to them and were the clearest, palest green, and her hair was almost the color of fire. Egwene barely stopped herself from goggling at that hair, those slightly slanted eyes.
“Ogier built, of course,” the Aes Sedai went on, “and their best work ever, some say. One of the first cities built after the Breaking. There weren’t half a thousand people here altogether then—no more than twenty sisters—but they built for what would be needed.”
“It is a lovely city,” Nynaeve said. “We are supposed to go to the White Tower. We came here for training, but no one seems to care if we go or stay.”
“They care,” the woman said, smiling. “I came here to meet you, but I was delayed speaking with the Amyrlin. I am Sheriam, the Mistress of Novices.”
“I am not to be a novice,” Nynaeve said in a firm voice, but a little too quickly. “The Amyrlin herself said I was to be one of the Accepted.”
“So I was told.” Sheriam sounded amused. “I have never heard of it being done so before, but they say you are . . . exceptional. Remember, though, even one of the Accepted can be called to my study. It requires more breaking of the rules than for a novice, but it has been known to happen.” She turned to Egwene as if she had not seen Nynaeve frown. “And you are our new novice. It is always good to see a novice come. We have too few, these days. You will make forty. Only forty. And no more than eight or nine of those will be raised to the Accepted. Though I don’t think you will have to worry about that too much, if you work hard and apply yourself. The work is hard, and even for one with the potential they tell me you have, it will not be made any easier. If you cannot stick to it, no matter how hard it is, or if you will break under the strain, better we find it out now, and let you go on your way, than wait until you are a full sister and others are depending on you. An Aes Sedai’s life is not easy. Here, we will prepare you for it, if you have in you what is required.”
Egwene swallowed. Break under the strain? “I will try, Sheriam Sedai,” she said faintly. And I will not break.
Nynaeve looked at her