Towers of Midnight

by Robert Jordan; Brandon Sanderson

  "The battle within the White Tower is over," Egwene said.

  "The woman Elaida a'Roihan?" Amys asked.

  "Taken by the Seanchan," Egwene said. "I have been accepted as Amyr-lin by those who followed her. My position is far from secure—at times, I feel balanced atop a stone that sits balanced atop another stone. But the White Tower is again whole."

  Amys clicked her tongue softly. She raised her hand and a striped stole—an Amyrlin's stole—appeared in it. "I suppose you should be wearing this, then."

  Egwene let out a soft, slow breath. It was remarkable to her, sometimes, how much stock she put in the opinions of these women. She took the stole, putting it around her shoulders.

  Sorilea will dislike this news," Bair said, shaking her head. "She still had a hope that you would leave those fools in the White Tower and return

  to us."

  "Please take care," Egwene said, summoning herself a cup of tea. "I am not only one of those fools, my friend, but I am their leader. Queen of the fools, you might say."

  Bair hesitated. "I have toh."

  "Not for speaking the truth," Egwene assured her. "Many of them are fools, but are we not all fools at some point? You did not abandon me to my failures when you found me walking Tel'aran'rbiod. In like manner cannot abandon those of the White Tower."

  Amys' eyes narrowed. "You have grown much since we last met, Egwene al'Vere."

  That sent a thrill through Egwene. "I had much need to grow. My life has been difficult of late."

  "When confronted by a collapsed roof," Bair said, "some will begin to haul away the refuse, becoming stronger for the process. Others will go to visit their brother's hold and drink his water."

  "Have you seen Rand recently?" Egwene asked.

  "The Car'a'carn has embraced death," Amys said. "He has given up trying to be as strong as the stones, and has instead achieved the strength of the wind."

  Bair nodded. "Almost, we will have to stop calling him a child." She smiled. "Almost."

  Egwene gave no hint of her shock. She'd expected them to be displeased with Rand. "I wish you to know the respect I have for you. You have much honor for taking me in as you did. I think that the only reason I see farther than my sisters is because you taught me to walk with my back straight and head high."

  "It was a simple thing," Amys said, obviously pleased. "One that any woman would have done."

  "There are few pleasures more satisfying than taking a cord someone else has knotted," Bair said, "then teasing it straight again. However, if the cord is not of good material, then no untangling will save it. You gave us fine material, Egwene al'Vere."

  "I wish that there were a way," Egwene said, "to train more sisters in the ways of the Wise Ones."

  "You could send them to us," Amys said. "Particularly if they need punishing. We wouldn't coddle them like the White Tower."

  Egwene bristled. The beatings she'd taken had been "coddling"? That was a fight she didn't want to join, however. The Aiel would always assume wetlander ways to be soft, and there was no changing that assumption.

  "I doubt the sisters would agree to that," Egwene said carefully. "But

  hat might work would be to send young women—those still train-

  .__to study with you. That was part of why my training was so effec-

  tive; I wasn't yet set in the ways of the Aes Sedai." "Would they agree to this?" Bair asked.

  "They might," Egwene said. "If we sent Accepted. Novices would be onsidered too inexperienced, sisters too dignified. But Accepted . . . perhaps. There would need to be a good reason that seems to benefit the White

  Tower."

  "You should tell them to go," Bair said, "and expect them to obey.

  Have you not the most honor among them? Should they not listen to your

  counsel when it is wise?"

  "Does the clan always do as a chief demands?" Egwene said.

  "Of course not," Amys said. "But wetlanders are always fawning over kings and lords. They seem to like being told what to do. It makes them feel safe."

  "Aes Sedai are different," Egwene said.

  "The Aes Sedai keep implying that we should all be training in the White Tower," Amys said. Her tone indicated what she thought of that idea. "They drone on, as noisy as a blind chippabird that cannot tell if it's day or night. They need to see that we will never do such a thing. Tell them that you're sending women to us to study our ways so we can understand one another. It is only the truth; they needn't know that you also expect them to be strengthened by the experience."

  "That might work." Egwene was pleased; the plan was only a few hairs off from what she eventually wanted to accomplish.

  "This is a topic to consider in easier days," Bair said. "I sense greater trouble in you than this, Egwene al'Vere."

  "There is a greater trouble," she said. "Rand al'Thor. Has he told you what he declared when he visited the White Tower?"

  "He said he angered you," Amys said. "I find his actions odd. He visits you after all his talk of the Aes Sedai locking him up and putting him in a box?"

  "He was . . . different when he came here," Egwene said. "He has embraced death," Bair said again, nodding. "He becomes the Car'a'carn truly."

  He spoke powerfully," Egwene said, "but his words were those of madness. He said he is going to break the seals on the Dark One's prison." Amys and Bair both froze. You are certain of this?" Bair asked. "Yes."

  "This is disturbing news," Amys said. "We will consult with him on this. Thank you for bringing this to us."

  "I will be gathering those who resist him." Egwene relaxed. Until that moment, she hadn't been certain which way the Wise Ones would go. "Perhaps Rand will listen to reason if enough voices are present."

  "He is not known for his willingness to listen to reason," Amys said with a sigh, rising. Egwene and Bair did so as well. The Wise Ones' blouses were laced in an instant.

  "The time is long past for the White Tower to ignore the Wise Ones" Egwene said, "or for the Wise Ones to avoid the Aes Sedai. We must work together. Hand in hand as sisters."

  "So long as it isn't some sun-blinded ridiculous thought about the Wise Ones training in the Tower," Bair said. She smiled to show it was a joke, but succeeded only in baring her teeth.

  Egwene smiled. She did want the Wise Ones to train in the Tower. There were many methods of channeling that the Aes Sedai did better than the Wise Ones. On the other hand, the Wise Ones were better about working together and—Egwene admitted reluctantly—with leadership.

  The two groups could learn much from one another. She would find a way to tie them together. Somehow.

  She fondly bade farewell to the two Wise Ones, watching as they faded from Tel'aran'rhiod. Would that their counsel alone proved enough to turn Rand from his insane plan. But it was unlikely.

  Egwene took a breath. In an instant she stood in the Hall of the Tower, her feet planted directly on the Flame of Tar Valon painted on the floor. Seven spirals of color wound out from her, spinning toward the perimeter of the domed chamber.

  Nynaeve was not there. Egwene drew her lips to a line. That woman! Egwene could bring the White Tower to its knees, turn a staunch member of the Red Ajah to her side, earn the respect of the toughest Wise Ones. But Light help her if she needed the loyalty of her friends! Rand, Gawyn, Nynaeve—all infuriating in their own ways.

  She folded her arms to wait. Perhaps Nynaeve would still come. If not, this wouldn't be the first time she had disappointed Egwene. A massive rose window dominated the far wall behind the Amyrlin Seat itself. The Flame at the center sparkled, as if there were sunlight beyond, though Egwene knew those boiling black clouds covered all the sky of the World of Dreams.

  She turned from the window, then froze.

  There, set into the glass below the Flame of Tar Valon, was a large segment in the shape of the Dragon's Fang. That wasn't part of the original window. Egwene stepped forward, inspecting the glass.

  There is a third constant besides the
Creator and the Dark One, Verin's me-ticulous voice said, a memory from another time. There is a world that lies ithin each of these others, inside all of them at the same time. Or perhaps sur~ rounding them. Writers in the Age of Legends called it Tel'aran'rhiod.

  Did this window represent one of those, another world where Dragon and Amyrlin ruled Tar Valon side by side?

  "That's an interesting window," a voice said from behind her.

  Egwene started, spinning. Nynaeve stood there, wearing a dress of bright yellow trimmed with green across the high bodice and along the skirt. She wore a red dot at the center of her forehead, and had her hair woven into its characteristic braid.

  Egwene felt a surge of relief. Finally! It had been months since she'd seen Nynaeve. Cursing inside for letting herself be surprised, she smoothed her face and embraced the Source, weaving Spirit. A few inverted wards might help keep her from being startled again. Elayne was supposed to arrive a little later.

  "I didn't choose this pattern," Egwene said, looking back at the Rose Window. "This is Tel'aran'rhiod's interpretation."

  "But the window itself is real?" Nynaeve asked.

  "Unfortunately," Egwene said. "One of the holes the Seanchan left when they attacked."

  "They attacked}" Nynaeve asked.

  "Yes," Egwene said. Something you would have known if you'd ever responded to my summons!

  Nynaeve folded her arms, and the two of them regarded one another across the room, Flame of Tar Valon centering the floor beneath them. This would have to be handled very carefully; Nynaeve could be as prickly as the worst of thornbushes.

  'Well," Nynaeve said, sounding distinctly uncomfortable, "I know you're busy, and Light knows I have enough things to be doing. Tell me the news you think I need to know, and I'll be off."

  "Nynaeve," Egwene said, "I didn't bring you here only to give you news."

  Nynaeve grasped her braid. She knew she should be rebuked for the way she'd avoided Egwene.

  Actually," Egwene continued, "I wanted to ask your advice."

  Nynaeve blinked. "Advice on what?"

  Well," Egwene said, strolling across the Flame, "you're one of the few people I can think of who has been in a situation similar to mine."

  "Amyrlin?" Nynaeve asked flatly.

  "A leader," Egwene said, passing Nynaeve and nodding for her to walk beside her, "that everyone thinks is too young. Who rose to her position abruptly. Who knows she is the right woman for the job, yet has only grudging acceptance from most of those near her."

  "Yes," Nynaeve said, walking with Egwene, eyes growing distant. "You I could say I know something of being in that situation."

  "How did you deal with it?" Egwene asked. "It seems that everything I do, I need to do myself—because if I don't, they ignore me once I'm out of sight. Many assume that I give orders just to be seen making noise, or they resent my position above them."

  "How did I deal with it when I was Wisdom?" Nynaeve asked. "Egwene, I don't know if I did. I could barely keep myself from boxing Jon Thane's ears half the days, and don't get me talking about Cenn!"

  "But eventually they respected you."

  "It was a matter of not letting them forget my station. They couldn't be allowed to continue to think of me as a young girl. Establish your authority quickly. Be firm with the women in the Tower, Egwene, because they'll begin by seeing how far they can push you. And once you've let them push you a handspan, it's harder than winter molasses to get back what you've lost."

  "All right," Egwene said.

  "And don't come up with idle work for them to do," Nynaeve said. They passed out of the Hall of the Tower, strolling through the hallways. "Get them used to you giving orders, but make those orders good ones. Make sure they don't bypass you. I'd guess that it might be easy for them to start looking to the Sitters or the Ajah heads instead of you; women in Emond's Field started going to the Women's Circle instead of me.

  "If you discover that the Sitters are making decisions that should have come before the entire Hall, you have to make a big fuss about it. Trust me. They'll grouse that you're making too much noise over small things, but they'll think twice about doing something important without your attention."

  Egwene nodded. It was good advice, though—of course—it came colored by Nynaeve's view of the world. "I think the biggest problem," Egwene said, "is that I have so few true supporters."

  "You have me. And Elayne."

  "Do I?" Egwene said, stopping in the hallway and looking at Nynaeve. "Do I really have you, Nynaeve?"

  The former Wisdom stopped beside her. "Of course you do. Don't be

  silly"

  "And how will it seem," Egwene asked, "if those who know me best

  fuse my authority? Might it seem to the others that there is something

  hev do not know? Some weakness that only my friends have seen?"

  Nynaeve froze. Suddenly, her honesty melted into suspicion, her eyes narrowing. "This wasn't about asking me for advice at all, was it?"

  "Of course it was," Egwene said. "Only a fool would ignore the advice of those who support her. But how did it feel for you, those first weeks when you became Wisdom? When all the women you were supposed to be leading looked at you only as the girl they had known?"

  "Terrible," Nynaeve said softly.

  "And were they wrong to do so?"

  "Yes. Because I'd become something more. It wasn't me any longer, it was my station."

  Egwene met the older woman's eyes, holding them, and an understanding passed between them.

  "Light," Nynaeve said. "You caught me quite soundly, didn't you?"

  "I need you, Nynaeve," Egwene said. "Not just because you're so strong in the Power, not just because you're a clever, determined woman. Not just because you're refreshingly untainted by Tower politics, and not just because you're one of the few who knew Rand before this all began. But because I need people I can trust implicitly. If you can be one of those."

  "You'll have me kneeling on the ground," Nynaeve said. "Kissing your ring."

  "And? Would you have done it for another Amyrlin?"

  "Not happily."

  "But you'd have done it."

  "Yes."

  "And do you honestly think there is another who would do a better job than I?"

  Nynaeve hesitated, then shook her head.

  Then why is it so bitter for you to serve the Amyrlin? Not me, Nynaeve, but the station."

  Nynaeve's face looked as if she'd drunk something very bitter. "This will • . . not be easy for me."

  I ve never known you to avoid a task because it was difficult, Nynaeve." "The station. All right. I'll try." Then you might begin by calling me Mother." Egwene held up a finger

  to cut off Nynaeve's objection. "To remind yourself, Nynaeve. It needn't be permanent, at least not in private. But you must begin thinking of me as I Amyrlin."

  "All right, all right. You've pricked me with enough thorns. I already feel as if I've been drinking windsatter's draught all day." She hesitated, then added, "Mother." She almost seemed to choke on the word.

  Egwene smiled encouragingly.

  "I won't treat you the way women did me after I was first named Wisdom," Nynaeve promised. "Light! Odd to be able to feel as they did Well, they were still fools. I'll do better; you'll see it. Mother."

  It sounded a little less forced that time. Egwene broadened her smile. There were few ways to motivate Nynaeve better than a competition.

  Suddenly, a tinkling bell rang in Egwene's mind. She'd almost forgotten her wards. "I think Elayne has arrived."

  "Good," Nynaeve said, sounding relieved. "Let's go to her, then." She began striding back toward the Hall, then froze. She glanced back. "If it pleases you, Mother."

  I wonder if she'll ever be able to say that without sounding awkward, Egwene thought. Well, so long as she's trying. "An excellent suggestion." She joined Nynaeve. Upon arriving in the Hall, however, they found it empty. Egwene folded her arms, looking around.

  "
Maybe she went looking for us," Nynaeve said.

  "We'd have seen her in the hallway," Egwene said. "Besides . . ."

  Elayne popped into the room. She wore a regal white gown, sparkling with diamonds. As soon as she saw Egwene, she smiled broadly, rushing over and taking her hands. "You did it, Egwene! We're whole again!"

  Egwene smiled. "Yes, though the Tower is still injured. There is much to do."

  "You sound like Nynaeve." Elayne glanced at Nynaeve, smiling.

  "Thank you," Nynaeve said dryly.

  "Oh, don't be so silly." Elayne walked over and gave Nynaeve a friendly hug. "I'm glad you're here. I'd worried that you wouldn't come, and Egwene would have to hunt you down and pull your toes off one at a time."

  "The Amyrlin," Nynaeve said, "has much better things to do. Isn't that right, Mother?"

  Elayne started, looking amazed. She got a glimmer in her eye, and hid a smile. She assumed that Nynaeve had been given a tongue-lashing. But, of course, Egwene knew that wouldn't have worked with Nynaeve; it would be like trying to yank a burr out of your skin when its spines had gone in the wrong way.

  "Elayne," Egwene said. "Where did you go, before we returned?"

  "What do you mean?" she said.

  "When you first came here, we were gone. Did you go somewhere looking for us?"

  Elayne seemed perplexed. "I channeled into my terangreal, went to sleep, and you were here when I appeared."

  "Then who set off the wards?" Nynaeve asked.

  Troubled, Egwene reset the wards and then—thinking carefully—she wove an inverted ward against eavesdropping but altered it to allow a little bit of sound through. With another weave, she projected that little bit far out around them.

  Someone who grew near would hear them as if whispering. They'd edge closer, but the sound would remain a whisper. Perhaps that would draw them closer, inch by inch, as they strained to hear.

  Nynaeve and Elayne watched her make the weaves, Elayne looking awed, though Nynaeve nodded thoughtfully to herself.

  "Sit, please," Egwene said, making herself a chair and sitting in it. "We have much to discuss." Elayne made herself a throne, probably unconsciously, and Nynaeve made a seat copying the chairs of the Sitters in the room. Egwene, of course, had moved the Amyrlin Seat.