“Intend, child? He’s the Dragon Reborn. The Amyrlin knows that, and she intends to give him every honor he deserves.” A touch of intensity entered Tarna’s voice. “Think, child. This lot will return to the fold once it dawns on them fully what they do, but every day could be vital. Three thousand years the White Tower has guided rulers; there would have been more wars and worse without the Tower. The world faces disaster if al’Thor lacks that guidance. But you cannot guide what you do not know, any more than I could channel with my eyes closed. The best thing for him is for you to return with me and give your knowledge of him to the Amyrlin now, instead of in weeks or months. Best for you, as well. You can never be made Aes Sedai here. The Oath Rod is in the Tower. The testing can only be done in the Tower.”

Sweat stung Nynaeve’s eyes, but she refused to blink. Did the woman think she could be bribed? “The truth of it is, I never spent much time around him. I lived in the village, you see, and he on a farm off in the Westwood. Mainly all I remember is a boy who never listened to reason. He had to be pushed into doing what he should, or dragged into it. Of course, that was when he was a boy. He may have changed, for all I know. Most men are just the boy grown tall, but he could have.”

For a long moment Tarna merely looked at her. A very long moment, under that frigid stare. “Well,” she said at last, and flowed onto her feet so quickly Nynaeve almost stepped back, though there was nowhere in the tiny room to step back to. That unsettling smile remained in place. “Such an odd group gathered here. I haven’t seen either, but I understand Siuan Sanche and Leane Sharif grace Salidar. Not the sort a wise woman would consort with. And perhaps other odd folk, too? You would do much better to come with me. I leave in the morning. Let me know tonight whether I should expect to meet you on the road.”

“I’m afraid not—”

“Think on it, child. This could be the most important decision you ever make. Think very hard.” The amiable mask vanished, and Tarna swept out of the room.

Nynaeve’s knees gave way, depositing her on the bed. The woman set such a gamut of emotions running through her, she did not know what to make of them. Uneasiness and anger roiled about with exhilaration. She wished the Red had some way to communicate with the Tower Aes Sedai seeking Rand. Oh, to be a fly on the wall when they tried using her assessment of him. Trying to bribe her. Trying to frighten her. And doing a fair job of the latter. Tarna was so sure the Aes Sedai here would kneel to Elaida; it was a foregone conclusion, only the timing in doubt. And had that been a hint about Logain? Nynaeve suspected Tarna knew more of Salidar than the Hall or Sheriam suspected. Perhaps Elaida did have supporters here.

Nynaeve kept expecting Elayne to return, and when a good half hour passed without her, she went out hunting, first loping up and down dusty streets, then trotting, pausing here to climb up on a cart tongue, there to mount an upended barrel or a stone stoop, and peer across the heads of the crowd. The sun descended to less than its own height above the tree line before she stalked back to the room, muttering to herself. And found Elayne, plainly just arrived herself.

“Where have you been? I thought Tarna might have you tied up somewhere!”

“I was getting these from Siuan.” Elayne opened her hand. Two of the twisted stone rings lay on her palm.

“Is one of those the real one? It’s a good idea to take them, but you should have tried to get the real one.”

“Nothing has changed my mind, Nynaeve. I still think we should stay.”

“Tarna—”

“Only convinced me. If we go, Sheriam and the Hall will choose the Tower whole over Rand. I just know it.” She put her hands on Nynaeve’s shoulders, and Nynaeve let herself be sat down on her bed. Elayne took the other opposite her and leaned forward intently. “You remember what you told me about using need to find something in Tel’aran’rhiod? What we need is a way to convince the Hall not to go to Elaida.”

“How? What? If Logain isn’t enough. . . .”

“We will know what when we find it,” Elayne said firmly.

Nynaeve fingered her wrist-thick braid absently. “Will you agree to go if we don’t find anything? I don’t much like the thought of sitting here until they decide to put us under guard.”

“I’ll agree to go provided you agree to stay if we do find something useful. Nynaeve, as much as I want to see him, we can do more good here.”

Nynaeve hesitated before finally muttering, “Agreed.” It seemed safe enough. Without some idea of what they were looking for, she could not imagine they would find anything at all.

If the day had seemed to pass slowly before, it began to crawl now. They lined up at one of the kitchens for plates of sliced ham, turnips and peas. The sun sat on the treetops for hours, it seemed. Most in Salidar went to bed with the sun, but a few lights appeared in windows, especially the Little Tower. The Hall was feasting Tarna tonight. Bits of harp music occasionally drifted from the former inn; the Aes Sedai had found a harper of sorts among the soldiers and had him shaved and stuffed into something like livery. People passing by in the street darted quick glances at it before hurrying on or ignored it so hard they practically shook with the effort. Once again Gareth Bryne was the exception. He ate his meal seated on a wooden box in the middle of the street; any of the Hall looking out a window would have to see him. Slowly, ever so slowly, the sun slid down behind the trees. Dark came abruptly, with no twilight to speak of, and the streets emptied. The harper’s melody began again. Gareth Bryne still sat on his box on the edge of a pool of light from the Hall’s banquet. Nynaeve shook her head; she did not know whether he was being admirable or foolish. Some of each, she suspected.

It was not until she was in her bed with the flecked stone ter’angreal on the cord around her neck with Lan’s heavy gold signet and the candle snuffed that she remembered Theodrin’s instructions. Well, too late for that now. Theodrin would never know whether she slept anyway. Where was Lan?

The sound of Elayne’s breathing slowed, Nynaeve snuggled into her small pillow with a tiny sigh, and . . .

. . . she stood at the foot of her empty bed, looking at a misty Elayne in the not quite light of night in Tel’aran’rhiod. No one to see them here. Sheriam or one of her circle might be about, or Siuan or Leane. True, the pair of them had a right to visit the World of Dreams, but on tonight’s quest neither wanted to answer questions. Elayne apparently saw it as a hunt; consciously or not, she had togged herself out like Birgitte, in green coat and white trousers. She blinked at the silver bow in her hand, and it vanis