“I want those holes filled…” Mat whispered to himself. “That’s what I said. The Eelfinn obliged, giving me memories that were not my own.”
Moiraine’s eyes had closed again, but she smiled as she listened to Thom’s music. Mat had thought Thom was playing for the Aelfinn, but now he wondered if he was playing for Moiraine. A last, melancholy song for a failed rescue.
“He sailed as far as a man could steer,” Thom sang, voice sonorous, beautiful. “And he never wished to lose his fear.”
“I want those holes filled,” Mat repeated, “so they gave me memories. That was my first boon.”
“For the fear of man is a thing untold. It keeps him safe, and it proves him bold!”
“I asked something else, not knowing it,” Mat said. “I said I wanted to be free of Aes Sedai and the Power. They gave me the medallion for that. Another gift.”
“Don’t let fear make you cease to strive, for that fear it proves you remain alive!”
“And…and I asked for one more thing. I said I wanted to be away from them and back to Rhuidean. The Eelfinn gave me everything I asked for. The memories to fill my holes. The medallion to keep me free from the Power….”
And what? They sent him back to Rhuidean to hang. But hanging was a price, not an answer to his demands.
“I will walk this broken road,” Thom sang, voice growing louder, “and I will carry a heavy load!”
“They did give me something else,” Mat whispered, looking down at the ashandarei in his hands as the Aelfinn began to hiss more loudly.
Thus is our treaty written; thus is agreement made.
It was carved on the weapon. The blade had two ravens, the shaft inscribed with words in the Old Tongue.
Thought is the arrow of time; memory never fades.
Why had they given it to him? He had never questioned it. But he had not asked for a weapon.
What was asked is given. The price is paid.
No, I didn’t ask for a weapon. I asked for a way out.
And they gave me this.
“So come at me with your awful lies,” Thom bellowed the final line of the song. “I’m a man of truth, and I’ll meet your eyes!”
Mat spun the ashandarei and thrust it into the wall. The point sank into the not-stone. Light sprayed out around it, spilling free like blood gushing from a split vein. Mat screamed, ramming it in farther. Powerful waves of light erupted from the wall.
He drew the ashandarei down at an angle, making a slit. He pulled the weapon up the other side, cutting out a large inverse triangle of light. The light seemed to thrum as it washed across him. The Aelfinn had reached the doorway by Thom, but they hissed, shying back from the powerful radiance.
Mat finished by drawing a wavy line down the middle of the triangle. He could barely see, the light was so bright. The section of the wall in front of him fell away, revealing a glowing white passage that seemed to be cut out of steel.
“Well I’ll…” Thom whispered, standing up.
The Aelfinn screamed with high-pitched anger. They entered the room, arms raised to shield their eyes, wicked swords gripped in opposing hands.
“Get her out!” Mat bellowed, spinning to face the creatures. He lifted the ashandarei, using the butt end to smash the face of the first Aelfinn. “Go!”
Thom grabbed Moiraine, then spared a glance at Mat.
“Go!” Mat repeated, smashing the arm of another Aelfinn.
Thom leaped into the doorway and vanished. Mat smiled, spinning among the Aelfinn with his ashandarei, laying into legs, arms, heads. There were a lot of them, but they seemed dazed by the light, frenzied to get to him. As he tripped the first few, the others stumbled. The creatures became a squirming mass of sinuous arms and legs, hissing and spitting in anger, several of those in back trying to crawl over the pile to reach him.
Mat stepped back and tipped his hat to the creatures. “Looks like the game can be won after all,” he said. “Tell the foxes I’m mighty pleased with this key they gave me. Also, you can all go rot in a flaming pit of fire and ashes, you unwashed lumps on a pig’s backside. Have a grand bloody day.”
He held his hat and leaped through the opening.
All flashed white.
Chapter 56
Something Wrong
A soft knock came at the post outside Egwene’s tent. “Come,” she said, shuffling through the papers on her desk.
Gawyn slipped in. He’d given up his fine clothing, choosing trousers of brown and a slightly lighter shirt. A Warder’s color-shifting cloak hung around his shoulders, making him blend into his surroundings. Egwene herself was wearing a regal dress of green and blue.
His cloak rustled as he took a seat beside her desk. “Elayne’s army is crossing. She sent word that she’s on her way to come visit our camp.”
“Excellent,” Egwene said.
Gawyn nodded, but he was troubled. Such a useful thing, that ball of emotions caused by the bond. If she’d known earlier the depth of his devotion to her, she’d have bonded him weeks ago.
“What?” Egwene asked, setting aside her papers.
“Aybara,” he said. “He hasn’t agreed to meet with you.”
“Elayne said he might be difficult.”
“I think he’s going to take al’Thor’s side,” Gawyn said. “You can see it in the way he set up camp, apart from everyone else. He sent messengers immediately to the Aiel and to the Tairens. He’s got a good army, Egwene. A huge one. With Whitecloaks in it.”
“That doesn’t sound likely to make him side with Rand,” Egwene said.
“Doesn’t seem like it makes him likely to side with us either,” Gawyn said. “Egwene…Galad leads the Whitecloaks.”
“Your brother?”
“Yes.” Gawyn shook his head. “This many armies, this many loyalties, all rubbing against one another. Aybara and his force could be a spark that sends us all up like a firework.”
“It will be better when Elayne settles in,” Egwene said.
“Egwene, what if al’Thor isn’t coming? What if he did this to distract everyone from whatever else he’s doing?”
“Why would he do that?” Egwene said. “He’s already proven that he can avoid being found, if he wants to.” She shook her head. “Gawyn, he knows he shouldn’t break those seals. A part of him does, at least. Perhaps that’s why he told me—so I could gather resistance, so I could t
