She felt only the smallest surprise when a sword blade flashed over her shoulder to pierce the Draghkar's breast, and little more when a second crossed her other shoulder to strike beside the first.
Dazed, swaying, she watched as if from a great distance as the creature was pushed back, away from her. Lan came into her view, then Jaem, the grayhaired Warder's bony arms holding his blade as straight and true as the younger man's. The Draghkar's pale hands bloodied as they tore at the sharp steel, wings buffeting the two men with thunderclaps. Suddenly, wounded and bleeding, it began to croon again. To the Warders.
With an effort, Moiraine gathered herself; she felt almost as drained as if the thing had managed its kiss. No time to be weak. In an instant she opened herself to saidar and, as the Power filled her, steeled herself to touch the Shadowspawn directly. The two men were too close; anything else would harm them, as well. Even using the One Power, she knew she would feel soiled by the Draghkar.
But even as she began, Lan cried out, “Embrace death!” Jaem echoed him firmly. “Embrace death!” And the two men stepped within reach of the Draghkar's touch, drove home their blades to the hilt.
Throwing back its head, the Draghkar bellowed, a shriek that seemed to pierce Moiraine's head with needles. Even wrapped in saidar she could feel it. Like a tree falling, the Draghkar toppled, one wing knocking Jaem to his knees. Lan sagged as if exhausted.
Lanterns hurried from the house, borne by Vandene and Adeleas.
“What was that noise?” Adeleas demanded. She was almost a mirror image of her sister. “Has Jaem gone and ...” The lantern light fell on the Draghkar; her voice trailed off.
Vandene took Moiraine's hands. “It did not ... ?” She left the question unfinished as, to Moiraine's eyes, a nimbus surrounded her. Feeling strength flowing into her from the other woman, Moiraine wished, not for the first time, that Aes Sedai could do as much for themselves as they could for others.
“It did not,” she said gratefully. “See to the Gaidin.”
Lan looked at her, mouth tight. “If you had not made me so angry I had to go work forms with Jaem, so angry I gave it up to come back to the house ...”
“But I did,” she said. “The Pattern takes everything into the weaving.” Jaem was muttering, but still allowing Vandene to see to his shoulder. He was all bone and tendon, yet looked as hard as old roots.
“How,” Adeleas demanded, “could any creature of the Shadow come so close without us sensing it?”
“It was warded,” Moiraine said.
“Impossible,” Adeleas snapped. “Only a sister could —” She stopped, and Vandene turned from Jaem to look at Moiraine.
Moiraine said the words none of them wanted to hear. “The Black Ajah.” Shouts drifted from the village. “Best you hide this— ”she gestured to the Draghkar, sprawled across a flower bed — “quickly. They will be coming to ask if you need help, but seeing this will start talk you will not like.”
“Yes, of course,” Adeleas said. “Jaem, go and meet them. Tell them you don't know what made the noise, but all is well here. Slow them down.” The grayhaired Warder hurried into the night toward the sound of approaching villagers. Adeleas turned to study the Draghkar as if it were a puzzling passage in one of her books. “Whether Aes Sedai are involved or not, whatever could have brought it here?” Vandene regarded Moiraine silently.
“I fear I must leave you,” Moiraine said. “Lan, will you ready the horses?” As he left, she said, “I will leave letters with you to be sent on to the White Tower, if you will arrange it.” Adeleas nodded absently, her attention still on the thing on the ground.
“And will you find your answers where you are going?” Vandene asked.
“I may already have found one I did not know I sought. I only hope I am not too late. I will need pen and parchment.” She drew Vandene toward the house, leaving Adeleas to deal with the Draghkar.
Chapter 23
(Flame of Tar Valon)
The Testing
Nynaeve warily eyed the huge chamber, far beneath the White Tower, and eyed Sheriam, at her side, just as warily. The Mistress of Novices seemed expectant, perhaps even a little impatient. In her few days in Tar Valon, Nynaeve had seen only serenity in the Aes Sedai, and a smiling acceptance of events coming in their own time.
The domed room had been carved out of the bedrock of the island; the light of lamps on tall stands reflected from pale, smooth stone walls. Centered under the dome was a thing made of three rounded, silver arches, each just tall enough to walk under, sitting on a thick silver ring with their ends touching each other. Arches and ring were all of one piece. She could not see what lay inside; there the light flickered oddly, and made her stomach flutter with it if she looked too long. Where arch touched ring, an Aes Sedai sat crosslegged on the bare stone of the floor, staring at the silvery construction. Another stood nearby, beside a plain table on which sat three large silver chalices. Each, Nynaeve knew — or at least, she had been told — was filled with clear water. All four Aes Sedai wore their shawls, as Sheriam did; bluefringed for Sheriam, red for the swarthy woman by the table, green, white, and gray for the three around the arches. Nynaeve still wore one of the dresses she had been given in Fal Dara, pale green embroidered with small white flowers.
“First you leave me to stare at my thumbs from morning to night,” Nynaeve muttered, “and now it's all in a rush.”
“The hour waits on no woman,” Sheriam replied. “The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills, and when it wills. Patience is a virtue that must be learned, but we must all be ready for the change of an instant.”
Nynaeve tried not to glare. The most irritating thing she had yet discovered about the flamehaired Aes Sedai was that she sometimes sounded as if she were quoting sayings even when she was not. “What is that thing?”
“A ter'angreal.”
“Well, that tells me nothing. What does it do?”
“Ter'angreal do many things, child. Like angreal and sa'angreal, they are remnants of the Age of Legends that use the One Power, though they are not quite so rare as the other two. While some ter'angreal must be made to work by Aes Sedai, as this one must, others will do what they do simply with the presence of any woman who can channel. There are even supposed to be some that will function for anyone at all. Unlike angreal and sa'angreal, they were made to do specific things. One other we have in the Tower makes oaths binding. When you are raised to full sisterhood, you will take your final vows holding that ter'angreal. To speak no word that is not true. To make no weapon for one man to kill another. Never to use the One Power as a weapon except against Darkfriends or Shadowspawn, or in the last extreme of defending your own life, that of your Warder, or that
