Almost as one, the pair paused in the act of sitting and exchanged glances. Unaccountably, they seemed reluctant to talk of anything but Nynaeve’s Healing Siuan and Leane—Nynaeve repeated three times rather anxiously that Healing Logain had been an accident—and Elayne’s work with ter’angreal. Those were remarkable feats, especially Nynaeve’s, but there was only so much they could say, and there were only so many times Egwene could tell them how marvelous what they had done was and how much she envied them. Trying to demonstrate did not last long; Egwene had no real feel for Healing, especially not this complicated tapestry Nynaeve wove without thought, and though she had an affinity for metals and very good strength in both Fire and Earth, Elayne lost her almost immediately. Of course they wanted to know what life was like among the Aiel. From the startled blinks and shocked laughs, abruptly cut off, she was not sure they believed everything she told them, and she certainly did not tell everything. The Aiel led naturally into Rand. Both women stared all through her rendition of his meeting with the Aes Sedai. They agreed that he was wading waters deeper than he knew and needed someone to guide him before he stepped into a hole. Elayne thought Min might help with that, once the embassy reached Caemlyn—this was the first Egwene knew Min was with him, or had been in Salidar—though in truth, Elayne seemed rather halfhearted. And she muttered something truly peculiar, as if it were a truth she did not like hearing.

“Min is a better woman than I am.” For some reason, that got a sympathetic look from Nynaeve. “I wish I were there,” Elayne went on in a stronger voice. “To guide him, I mean.” She looked from Egwene to Nynaeve, red touching her cheeks. “Well, that, too.” Nynaeve and Egwene began laughing so hard they nearly fell out of their chairs, and Elayne joined in almost immediately.

Advertisement

“There’s one good thing to tell, Elayne,” Egwene said breathlessly, still trying to recover. Then she realized exactly what she was going to say, and why. Light, what a mire she had stepped into, and while laughing! “I’m sorry about your mother, Elayne. You don’t know how I wished I could offer my condolences before this.” Elayne looked confused, as well she might. “The point is, Rand means to give you the Lion Throne and the Sun Throne.” To her surprise, Elayne sat up very straight.

“He does, does he?” she said in a cool flat voice. “He intends to give them to me.” Her chin rose slightly. “I have some claim to the Sun Throne, and if I choose to make it, I will do so in my own right. As for the Lion Throne, Rand al’Thor has no right—none!—to give me what is mine already.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it that way,” Egwene protested. Did he? “He loves you, Elayne. I know he does.”

“If only it were that simple,” Elayne muttered, whatever that was supposed to mean.

Nynaeve sniffed. “Men always say they didn’t mean it that way. You would think they spoke a different language.”

“When I put my hands on him again,” Elayne said firmly, “I will teach him to speak the right language. Give me!”

It was all Egwene could do not to laugh again. The next time Elayne laid hands on Rand she would be too busy hunting a secluded spot to teach him anything. This was very like old times. “Now you’re Aes Sedai, you can go to him any time you want. Nobody can stop you.” A quick look passed between the pair.

“The Hall isn’t letting anyone just pick up and leave,” Nynaeve said. “And even if she could, we found something I think is more important.”

Elayne nodded vigorously. “I think so, too. I’ll admit, the first thought I had when I heard you announced Amyrlin was that now maybe Nynaeve and I could go find it. Well, the second; the first was a sort of stunned joy.”

-- Advertisement --

Egwene blinked in confusion. “You found something. But now you need to find it.” Leaning forward in their chairs, they answered eagerly and almost on top of one another.

“We found it,” Elayne said, “but only in Tel’aran’rhiod.”

“We used need,” Nynaeve added. “We certainly needed something.”

“It’s a bowl,” Elayne continued, “a ter’angreal, and I think it might be strong enough to change the weather.”

“Only, the bowl is somewhere in Ebou Dar, in an awful, tangled warren of streets with no signs or anything to help. The Hall sent a letter to Merilille, but she’ll never find it.”

“Especially since she is supposed to be busy convincing Queen Tylin that the real White Tower is here.”

“We told them it needed a man in the channeling.” Nynaeve sighed. “Of course, that was before Logain, though I don’t think they would trust him.”

“It doesn’t really need a man,” Elayne said. “We just wanted to make them believe they needed Rand. I don’t know how many women it does need; maybe a full circle of thirteen.”

“Elayne says it’s very powerful, Egwene. It could make the weather right again. I’d welcome that just to get my weather sense straight again.”

“The bowl can make it right, Egwene.” Elayne exchanged happy looks with Nynaeve. “All you have to do is send us to Ebou Dar.”

The flood receded, and Egwene leaned back in her chair. “I will do what I can. Maybe there’ll be no objection, now that you’re Aes Sedai.” She had the feeling there would be, though. Raising them had seemed such a bold stroke, but she was beginning to believe it was not quite so simple.

“What you can?” Elayne said incredulously. “You are the Amyrlin Seat, Egwene. You give a command, and Aes Sedai jump.” She flashed a quick grin. “Say ‘jump,’ and I’ll prove it.”

Grimacing, Egwene shifted on the cushions. “I’m the Amyrlin, but. . . . Elayne, Sheriam doesn’t have to think very hard to recall a novice named Egwene, staring goggle-eyed at everything and being sent to rake the New Garden walks for eating apples after bedtime. She means to lead me by the hand, or maybe push me by the scruff of my neck. Romanda and Lelaine both wanted to be Amyrlin, and they see that novice too. They intend to show me where to put my feet as much as Sheriam does.”

Nynaeve frowned worriedly, but Elayne was pure indignation. “You can’t let them get away with trying to . . . to bully you. You are the Amyrlin. The Amyrlin tells the Hall what to do, not the other way around. You have to stand up and make them se

-- Advertisement --