A Memory of Light

Enaila, who had decided to forsake Far Dareis Mai and had laid a bridal wreath at the foot of the siswai’aman Leiran, speared through the gut by four Trol ocs. Rand wept for her.

Karldin Manfor, who had followed him for so long and had been at Dumai’s Wells, died when his strength for channeling gave out and he dropped to the ground in exhaustion.

Sharans fell upon him and stabbed him with their black daggers. His Aes Sedai, Beldeine, stumbled and fel moments later. Rand wept for them both.

He wept for Gareth Bryne and Siuan. He wept for Gawyn.

So many. So very many.

YOU ARE LOSING.

Rand huddled down further. What could he do? His dream of stopping the Dark One .. he would create a nightmare if he did that. His own intentions betrayed him.

GIVE IN, ADVERSARY. WHY KEEP FIGHTING? STOP FIGHTING AND REST.

He was tempted. Oh, how he was tempted. Light. What would Nynaeve think? He could see her, fighting to save Alanna. How ashamed would she and Moiraine be if they knew that in that moment, Rand wanted to just let go?

Pain washed across him, and he screamed again.

“Please, let it end!”

IT CAN.

Rand huddled down, writhing, trembling. But stil , their screams assaulted him. Death upon death. He held on, barely. “No,” he whispered.

VERY WELL, the Dark One said. I HAVE ONE MORE THING TO SHOW YOU. ONE MORE

PROMISE OF WHAT CAN BE . . .

The Dark One spun threads of possibility one last time.

All became darkness.

Taim lashed out with the One Power, thrashing Mishraile with weaves of Air. “Go back, then, you fool! Fight! We will not lose that position!”

The Dreadlord ducked back, gathering his two companions and slinking away to do as ordered. Taim smoldered, then shattered a nearby stone with a surge of power. That Aes Sedai ridgecat! How dare she best him?

“M’Hael,” a calm voice said.

Taim . . . M’Hael. He had to think of himself as M’Hael. He crossed the hillside toward the voice that had called to him. He had taken a gateway to safety, panicked, across the Heights, and he was now at the edge of the southeastern slope of the Heights. Demandred used this location to monitor the battle below and to send destruction down into the formations of Andorans, Cairhienin and Aiel.




Demandred’s Trol ocs control ed the entire corridor between the Heights and bogs, and were wearing down the defenders at the dry river. It was only a matter of time. Meanwhile, the Sharan army fought northeast of here on the Heights. It concerned him that Cauthon had arrived so quickly to stop the advance of the Sharans. No matter. That was a move of desperation for the man. He wouldn’t be able to stand up against the Sharan army. But the most important thing right now was destroying those Aes Sedai on the other side of the Heights. That was key to winning this battle.

M’Hael passed between suspicious Sharans with their strange dress and tattoos.

Demandred sat, cross-legged, at their center. His eyes closed, he breathed in and out slowly.

That sa’angreal he used .. it took something out of him, something more than just the normal strength required for channeling.

Would that provide M’Hael with an opening? How it gal ed to continue to put himself beneath another. Yes, he had learned much from this man, but now Demandred was obviously unfit to lead. He coddled these Sharans, and he wasted energy on his vendetta with al’Thor. The weakness of another was M’Hael’s potential opening.

“I hear that you are failing, M’Hael,” Demandred said.

Before them, across the dry riverbed, the Andoran defenses were final y starting to buckle.

Trollocs were always testing to find weak points in their lines, and they were breaking through pike formations in various areas all

up and down the river. The Legions heavy cavalry and the Cairhienin light were in constant motion now, making sweeps of desperation against Trol ocs as they broke through the Andoran defenses. The Aiel were stil holding them back down near the bogs, and the Legion’s crossbowmen combined with Andoran pike were still keeping the Trollocs from sweeping around their right flank. But the pressure of the Trol oc onslaught was relentless, and Elayne’s lines were gradually bowing out, moving deeper into Shienaran territory.

“M’Hael?” Demandred said, opening his eyes. Ancient eyes. M’Hael refused to feel intimidated, looking into them. He would not be intimidated! “Tel me how you failed.”

“The Aes Sedai witch,” M’Hael spat. “She has a sa’angreal of great power. I almost had her, but the True Power failed me.”

“You are given only a trickle for a reason,” Demandred said, closing his eyes again. “It is unpredictable for one unaccustomed to its ways.”

M’Hael said nothing. He would practice with the True Power; he would learn its secrets. The other Forsaken were old and slow. New blood would soon rule.

With a relaxed sense of inevitability, Demandred stood. He gave off the impression of a massive boulder shifting its position. “You will return and kill her, M’Hael. I have slain her Warder. She should be easy meat.”