Waiting her turn to use the washstand did not help, either, nor listening to Elayne’s recital of what had happened after she left them in Elaida’s study. Her own night had been one long futile search through the streets of Tar Valon, empty save for herself, pigeons, rats and heaps of garbage. That had been a shock. Tar Valon was always kept spotless; Elaida must be neglecting the city terribly for garbage to show in Tel’aran’rhiod. Once she had glimpsed Leane through the window of a tavern near South-harbor, of all places, but when she hurried inside, the common room was empty except for the freshly painted blue tables and benches. She should just have given up, but Myrelle had been badgering her lately, and she wanted a clear conscience when she told the woman that she had tried. Myrelle could pounce on an evasion as quickly as anyone Nynaeve had ever seen or heard of. To finish it off, she had stepped out of Tel’aran’rhiod last night to find Elayne’s ring already back on the table and Elayne fast asleep. If there had been a prize for useless effort, she would have won it walking away. And now to learn that Sheriam and the rest had nearly gotten themselves killed . . . Even the song sparrow’s chirping in its wicker cage earned a sour look.
“They think they know everything,” Nynaeve muttered disparagingly. “I told them about nightmares. I warned them, and last night was not the first time.” It made no difference that all six sisters had been Healed before she so much as got back from Tel’aran’rhiod. Much too easily it could have ended much worse—because they thought they knew it all. The irritated tugs she gave her braid delayed redoing it for the day. The a’dam bracelet sometimes caught on her hair, too, but she was not about to take it off. It was Elayne’s turn to wear it today, but she was just as likely to leave it on a peg on the wall. Worry tickled through the bracelet, and the inevitable fear, but more than anything else, frustration. Doubtless “Marigan” was already helping with breakfast; having to do chores seemed to grate at her more than being a prisoner did. “That was good thinking on your part, Elayne. You didn’t say how you ended up in it yourself after trying to warn everybody else.”
Still scrubbing with her facecloth, Elayne shuddered. “It wasn’t so hard to think of it. A nightmare that size needed all of us to handle. Maybe they learned a little humility. Maybe their meeting with the Wise Ones tonight won’t be so bad.”
Nynaeve nodded to herself. As she had thought. Not about Sheriam and the others; Aes Sedai would find humility when goats flew on wings, and a day before the Wise Ones at that. About Elayne. She had probably let herself be caught in the nightmare, though the girl would never admit it. Nynaeve was not sure whether Elayne thought taking credit for bravery was boasting or whether she simply did not realize how brave she was. Either way, Nynaeve was torn between admiration for the other woman’s courage and a wish that just once Elayne would acknowledge it. “I thought I saw Rand.” That brought the facecloth down.
“Was he there in the flesh?” That was dangerous, according to the Wise Ones; it risked losing some part of what made you human. “You warned him about that.”
“When did he start listening to sense? I only glimpsed him. Maybe he just touched Tel’aran’rhiod in a dream.” Unlikely, that. He apparently hedged his dreams with wards so strong she did not think he could reach the World of Dreams any other way than in the flesh, not even if he had been a Dreamwalker and had one of the rings. “Maybe it was somebody who looked a little like him. As I said, I only saw him for a moment, in the square in front of the Tower.”
“I should be there with him,” Elayne muttered. Emptying the basin into the night jar, she moved aside to let Nynaeve reach the washstand. “He needs me.”
“What he needs is what he has always needed.” Nynaeve glowered as she refilled the basin from the pitcher. She did hate washing in water that had stood all night. At least it was not cold; there was no such thing as cold water anymore. “Somebody to box his ears once a week on general principles and keep him on the straight and narrow.”
“It isn’t fair.” A clean shift going over Elayne’s head muffled the words. “I worry about him all the time.” Her face popped out the top, looking more worried than indignant whatever her tone, and she pulled a banded white dress from one of the pegs. “I even worry about him in my dreams! Do you think he spends all his time fretting about me? I don’t.”
Nynaeve nodded, though a part of her considered that it was not exactly the same. Rand had been told Elayne was safe with Aes Sedai, if not where. How could Rand ever be safe? She bent over the basin, and Lan’s ring fell out of her shift, dangling on its leather cord. No, Elayne was right. Whatever Lan was doing, wherever he was, she doubted he thought of her half as often as she did of him. Light, let him be alive even if he doesn’t think of me at all. That possibility made her angry enough to pull her braid out by the roots, if she had not had her hands full of soap and facecloth. “You can’t concern yourself over a man all the time,” she said sourly, “even if you do want to be a Green. What did they find out last night?”
It was a long tale, though with little meat to it, and after a bit Nynaeve sat down on Elayne’s bed to listen and ask questions. Not that the answers told her much either. It was just not the same when you did not see the documents yourself. All very well to learn Elaida finally knew about Rand’s amnesty, but what did she mean to do about it? Proof the Tower was approaching rulers might actually be good news; it might light a fire under the Hall. Something had to. Elaida sending an embassy to Rand was certainly a worry, but he could not be fool enough to listen to anyone who came from Elaida. Could he? There just was not enough in what Elayne had overheard. And what was Rand doing putting the Lion Throne on a pedestal? What was he doing with a throne at all? He might be the Dragon Reborn and this Aiel car-whatever, but she could not get past the fact that she had tended him when he was a child and paddled his bottom when he needed it.
Elayne went right ahead dressing, and was done before her story was. “I’ll tell you the rest later,” she said hastily, and flew out the door.
Nynaeve grunted and went back to clothing herself unhurriedly. Elayne was teaching her first class of novices today, something Nynaeve had not been allowed to do yet. But if she was not trusted to teach novices, there was still Moghedien. She would be done with her
