She looked as if nothing in the world could concern her less than where he went. Which way are you trying to push me, Aes Sedai? Burn me, but I’ll go another. But if Mat’s dying. . . . I can’t abandon him. Light, how are we going to find that dagger?
“You do not have to make the choice now,” the Amyrlin said. She did not seem to care, either. “But you will have to choose before Ingtar leaves.”
“I will ride with Ingtar, Mother.”
The Amyrlin Seat nodded absently. “Now that that is dealt with, we can move on to important matters. I know you can channel, boy. What do you know?”
Rand’s mouth fell open. Caught up in worrying about Mat, her casual words hit him like a swinging barn door. All of Lan’s advice and instructions went spinning. He stared at her, licking his lips. It was one thing to think she knew, entirely another to find out she really did. The sweat finally seeped out on his forehead.
She leaned forward in her seat, waiting for his answer, but he had the feeling she wanted to lean back. He remembered what Lan had said. If she’s afraid of you. . . . He wanted to laugh. If she was afraid of him.
“No, I can’t. I mean . . . I didn’t do it on purpose. It just happened. I don’t want to—to channel the Power. I won’t ever do it again. I swear it.”
“You don’t want to,” the Amyrlin Seat said. “Well, that’s wise of you. And foolish, too. Some can be taught to channel; most cannot. A few, though, have the seed in them at birth. Sooner or later, they wield the One Power whether they want to or not, as surely as roe makes fish. You will continue to channel, boy. You can’t help it. And you had better learn to channel, learn to control it, or you will not live long enough to go mad. The One Power kills those who cannot control its flow.”
“How am I supposed to learn?” he demanded. Moiraine and Verin just sat there, unruffled, watching him. Like spiders. “How? Moiraine claims she can’t teach me anything, and I don’t know how to learn, or what. I don’t want to, anyway. I want to stop. Can’t you understand that? To stop!”
“I told you the truth, Rand,” Moiraine said. She sounded as if they were having a pleasant conversation. “Those who could teach you, the male Aes Sedai, are three thousand years dead. No Aes Sedai living can teach you to touch saidin any more than you could learn to touch saidar. A bird cannot teach a fish to fly, nor a fish teach a bird to swim.”
“I have always thought that was a bad saying,” Verin said suddenly. “There are birds that dive and swim. And in the Sea of Storms are fish that fly, with long fins that stretch out as wide as your outstretched arms, and beaks like swords that can pierce. . . .” Her words trailed off and she became flustered. Moiraine and the Amyrlin Seat were staring at her without expression.
Rand took the interruption to try to regain some control of himself. As Tam had taught him long ago, he formed a single flame in his mind and fed his fears into it, seeking emptiness, the stillness of the void. The flame seemed to grow until it enveloped everything, until it was too large to contain or imagine any longer. With that it was gone, leaving in its place a sense of peace. At its edges, emotions still flickered, fear and anger like black blotches, but the void held. Thought skimmed across its surface like pebbles across ice. The Aes Sedai’s attention was only off him for a moment, but when they turned back his face was calm.
“Why are you talking to me like this, Mother?” he asked. “You should be gentling me.”
The Amyrlin Seat frowned and turned to Moiraine. “Did Lan teach him this?”
“No, Mother. He had it from Tam al’Thor.”
“Why?” Rand demanded again.
The Amyrlin Seat looked him straight in the eye and said, “Because you are the Dragon Reborn.”
The void rocked. The world rocked. Everything seemed to spin around him. He concentrated on nothing, and the emptiness returned, the world steadied. “No, Mother. I can channel, the Light help me, but I am not Raolin Darksbane, nor Guaire Amalasan, nor Yurian Stonebow. You can gentle me, or kill me, or let me go, but I will