A Memory of Light

The first Aiel reached for his spear with a growl, but Perrin grabbed him by the neck.

He wanted so badly to crush this man’s throat. He had lost Slayer again, and wolves were dead because of these two. He held himself back. Slayer . . . Slayer deserved worse than death for what he had done. He didn’t know about these men, and he wasn’t certain if killing them here would kill them forever, without rebirth.

It seemed to him that everyone, including creatures like these, should have another chance.

The red-veil in his hand struggled, trying with weaves of Air to envelop Perrin.

“You are an idiot,” Perrin said softly. Then he looked to the other one. “You too.”

Both blinked, then looked at him with eyes that grew slack. One started drooling. Perrin shook his head. Slayer hadn’t trained them at al . Even Gaul, after only a . . . how long had it been? Anyway, even Gaul knew not to be caught like that, in the grip of someone who could change the very capacity of one’s mind.

Perrin had to keep thinking of them as idiots to maintain the transformation. He knelt, seeking among the wolves for the wounded he could help. He imagined bindings on the wounds of those who were hurt. They would heal quickly in this place. Wolves seemed to be able to do that. They had lost eight of their members, for whom Perrin howled. The others joined him, but there was no regret to their sendings. They had fought. That was what they had come to do.

After that, Perrin saw to the fallen red-veils. All were dead. Gaul limped up beside him, holding a burned arm. The wound was bad, but not immediately life-threatening.

“We need to take you out of here,” Perrin said to him, “and get you some Healing. I’m not certain what time it is, but I think we should go to Merrilor and wait for the gateway out.”

Gaul gave him a toothy grin. “I killed two of those myself, Perrin Aybara. One could channel.

I think myself great with honor, then you slide in and take two captive.” He shook his head.

“Bain would laugh herself all the way back to the Three-fold Land if she saw this.”

Perrin turned to his two captives. Killing them here seemed heartlessly cruel, but to release them meant fighting them again—perhaps losing more wolves, more friends.

“I do not suspect these keep to ji’e’tolo,” Gaul said. “Would you take a man who could channel as gai’shain anyway?” He shuddered visibly.

“Just kil them and be done with it,” Lanfear said.

Perrin eyed her. He didn’t jump as she spoke—he had grown somewhat accustomed to the way she popped in and out. He did find it annoying, however.

“If I kill them here, will that kill them forever?”

“No,” she said. “It doesn’t work that way for men.”

Did he trust her? On this point, for some reason, he found that he did. Why would she lie?

Still, killing unarmed men . . . they were barely more than babies here to him.

No, he thought, considering the dead wolves, not babies. Far more dangerous than that.

“Those two have been Turned,” she said, folding her arms, nodding to the two channelers.

“Many are born to their life these days, but those two have the filed teeth. They were taken and Turned.”

Gaul muttered something. It sounded like an oath, but it also sounded reverent. It was in the Old Tongue, and Perrin didn’t catch its meaning. After that, however, Gaul raised a spear. He smelled regretful. “You spat in his eye, and so he uses you, my brothers.

Horrible . . .”

Turned, Perrin thought. Like those men at the Black Tower. He frowned, walking up and taking the head of one of the men in his hands. Could he will the man back to the Light? If he could be forced to be evil, could he be restored?

Perrin hit something vast as he pushed against the minds of these men. His wil bounced free, like a twig used to try beating down an iron gate. Perrin stumbled back.

He looked at Gaul, and shook his head. “I can do nothing for them.”

“I will do it,” Gaul said. “They are brothers.”

Perrin nodded, reluctant, as Gaul slit the throats of the two men. It was better this way. Still, it ripped Perrin up inside to see it. He hated what fighting did to people, what it did to him.

The Perrin of months ago could never have stood and watched this. Light .. if Gaul hadn’t done it, he would have himself. He knew it.

“You can be such a child,” Lanfear said, arms still folded beneath her breasts as she watched him. She sighed, then took him by the arm. A wave of icy Healing washed through him. The wound on his cheek closed.

Perrin took a deep breath, then nodded toward Gaul.

“I am not your errand woman, wolf pup,” she said.

“You want to convince me that you’re not a foe?” he asked. “That’s a good place to start.”

She sighed, then waved impatiently for Gaul to approach. He did so, limping, and she Healed him.

A distant rumbling shook the cavern behind them. She looked at it, and narrowed her eyes.