A Memory of Light

“I think they must be the men we sent to kill Sightblinder,” Aviendha said.

Sorilea hissed softly. “If this is true, child, then this night will mark great toh for us all. Toh toward the Car’a’cam, toh toward the land itself.”

“I know.”

“Bring me word,” Sorilea said. “I will organize a third circle; maybe make some of those off-duty Windfinders join in.”

Aviendha nodded, then accepted control of the circle as it was handed to her. She had three Aes Sedai who had sworn to Rand and two Wise Ones. By her order, Flinn did not join the circle. She wanted him to be on the watch for signs of men channeling, ready to point the direction, and being in a circle might make that impossible for him to do.

They moved off like a squad of spear-sisters. They passed clusters of Tairen Defenders pulling on burnished breastplates over uniforms with wide striped sleeves. In one group, she found King Darlin bel owing orders. “A moment,” she said to the others, hastening to the Tairen.

“ . . . them all!” Darlin said to his commanders. “Don’t let the front lines weaken! We can’t let those monsters spil into the val ey!” It appeared that he’d been awakened from sleep by the attack, for he stood dressed only in trousers and a white undershirt. A disheveled serving man held out Dar-lin’s coat, but the King, distracted by a messenger, turned away.



When Darlin saw Aviendha, he waved her forward urgently. The serving man heaved a sigh, lowering the coat.

“I’d given up on them attacking tonight,” Darlin said, then glanced at the sky. “Or, wel , this morning. The scout reports are so confused, I feel like I’ve been thrown into a coop full of crazed chickens and told to catch the one with a single black feather.”

“Those reports,” Aviendha said, “do they mention Aiel men, fighting for the Shadow?

Possibly channeling?”

Darlin turned sharply. “It’s true?”

“Yes.”

“And the Trol ocs are pushing with everything they have to force their way into the val ey,”

Darlin said. “If those Aiel Dreadlords start attacking our troops, we won t stand a chance without you lot being there to hold them off.”

“We’re moving,” Aviendha said. “Send for Amys and Cadsuane to make gateways. But I warn you. I caught a Dreadlord sneaking around near your tent . . ”

Darlin paled. “Like Ituralde . . . Light, they didn’t touch me. I swear it. I .. ” He raised a hand to his head. “Who do we trust if we cannot trust our own minds?”

“We must make the dance of spears as simple as possible,” Aviendha said. Go to Rhuarc, gather your leaders. Plan how you wil face the Shadow together, do not let one man control the battle—and set your plans in place; do not al ow them to be changed.”

“That could lead to disaster,” Darlin said. “If we don’t have flexibility .. ” “What needs be changed?” Aviendha asked grimly. “We hold. With everything we have, we hold. We don’t pull back. We don’t try anything clever. We just hold”

Darlin nodded. “I’l send for gateways to put Maidens atop those slopes. They can take out those Trol ocs shooting arrows down at our lads. Can you deal with the enemy channelers?”

“Yes.”

Aviendha returned to her group, then started to draw on their power. The more of the One Power you held, the harder it was to cut you off from the True Source. She intended to hold so much that no man could separate her from it.

Helplessness. She hated feeling helpless. She let the anger at what had been done to her rage inside of her, and led her group toward the nearest source of male channeling that Flinn could identify.





CHAPTER


34


Drifting

Rand stood in a place that was not.

A place outside of time, outside of the Pattern itself.

Al around him spread a vast nothingness. Voracious and hungry, it longed to consume. He could actually see the Pattern. It looked like thousands upon thousands of twisting ribbons of light; they spun around him, above him, undulating and shimmering, twisting together. At least, that was how his mind chose to interpret it.

Everything that had ever been, everything that could be, everything that could have been ..

it all lay right there, before him.

Rand could not comprehend it. The blackness around it sucked on him, pulled him toward it.

He reached out to the Pattern and somehow anchored himself in it, lest he be consumed.

That changed his focus. It locked him, slightly, into a time. The pattern before him rippled, and Rand watched it being woven. It was not actual y the Pattern, he knew, but his mind saw it that way. Familiar, as it had been described, the threads of lives weaving together.

Rand anchored himself in reality again and moved with it. Time had meaning again, and he could not see ahead or behind. He still could see all places, like a man standing above a globe as it turned.