Nynaeve plucked her handkerchief from her sleeve and fanned her face uselessly with the lacy square. “I still think they’re hiding something.”

“Really, Nynaeve,” Elayne said, shaking her head. “I do not like how we’re treated any more than you, but you are trying to make a bull out of a mouse. If Vandene and Adeleas want to look for runaways, let them. Would you rather have them trying to take over looking for the bowl?” During the whole journey they had hardly mentioned the ter’angreal they sought, for fear the pair would do just that.

Whether they would have or not, Nynaeve still thought they were hiding things. Elayne just did not want to admit it. Adeleas had not realized that Nynaeve had overheard that remark about looking for runaways once they reached Ebou Dar, and when Nynaeve asked whether they really expected to find any, Vandene replied just a bit too quickly that they always kept an eye out for young women who had run from the Tower. It did not make sense. No one had ran away from Salidar, but novices did run sometimes—the life was hard, especially with years of obedience to look forward to before you could even think of thinking for yourself—and an occasional Accepted who had begun to despair of ever reaching the shawl tried to slip away, yet even Nynaeve knew that few made it off the island of Tar Valon and almost all were dragged back. You could be put out at any time, for not being strong enough to go on, for refusing or failing your test for Accepted or the test for Aes Sedai that she and Elayne had slipped by, but leaving was never your decision unless you wore the shawl.

So if successful runaways were so rare, why did Vandene and Adeleas think they might find one in Ebou Dar, and why had they shut up like mussels when she asked? She was afraid she knew the answer to the last, anyway. Not tugging her braid required considerable self-control. She thought she was becoming better at that.

“At least Mat finally knows we’re Aes Sedai,” she growled. At least she could deal with him now. Let him try anything, and he would see what it was like being thumped with everything she could wrap a flow around. “He had better.”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding him like a Cheltan flinching from the tax collector?” Birgitte asked with a grin, and Nynaeve felt her face coloring. She thought she had hidden her feelings better than that.

“He is very irritating, even for a man,” Aviendha murmured. “You must have traveled very far, Birgitte. You often speak of places I have never heard of. One day I would like to travel the wetlands and see all these strange places. Where is this . . . Cheltan? Chelta?”

That wiped Birgitte’s grin right off; wherever it was, it might be dead a thousand years, or since an earlier Age altogether. Her and her slipping ancient places and things into the conversation. Nynaeve wished she had been there to see her admit to Egwene what Egwene already knew. Egwene had grown impressively forceful in her time with the Aiel, and put up with little she considered nonsense. Birgitte had actually come back looking chastened.

Even so, Nynaeve liked Birgitte rather better than she did Aviendha, who made her very uneasy at times with her hard stares and bloodthirsty talk. And however irritating Birgitte could be, Nynaeve had promised to help her keep her secret.

“Mat . . . threatened me,” she said hurriedly. It was the first way that came to mind to divert Aviendha and the last thing she wanted anyone else to know. Her cheeks heated all over again. Elayne actually smiled, though she had the grace to hide it in her teacup. “Not like that,” Nynaeve added when Aviendha began frowning and fingering her belt knife. The Aiel woman seemed to think the proper response to everything was a violent one. “It was just. . . .” Aviendha and Birgitte looked at her, all ears and interest. “He just said. . . .” As she had rescued Birgitte, Elayne rescued her.

“I really think that is enough about Master Cauthon,” Elayne said firmly. “He is only here to pull him out of Egwene’s hair, and I can puzzle out what to do about the ter’angreal later.” Her lips compressed for a moment. She had not been happy when Vandene and Adeleas began channeling at Mat without so much as a by-your-leave, and even less when he slipped off to that inn. There had been nothing she could do, of course. She claimed that by only telling him to do what he had to do anyway in the beginning, she could bring him into the habit. Well, good luck to her. “He is the least important part of this trip,” she said, even more firmly.

“Yes.” Nynaeve just kept the relief out of her voice. “Yes, the bowl is what’s important.”

“I suggest I scout about first,” Birgitte said. “Ebou Dar seems rougher than I remember, and the district you describe could be rougher than . . .” She did not quite glance at Aviendha. “. . . Than the rest of the city,” she finished with a sigh.

“If there is scouting to be done,” Aviendha put in eagerly, “I wish to be part of it. I have a cadin’sor.”

“A scout is supposed to blend in,” Elayne said gently. “I think we should find Ebou Dari dress for all of us; then we can all search together from the start, and none of us will stand out. Though Nynaeve will have the easiest time of it,” she added, smiling at Birgitte and Aviendha. The Ebou Dari they had seen so far all had dark hair, and most seemed to have nearly black eyes.

Aviendha exhaled glumly, and Nynaeve felt like echoing her, thinking of those deep necklines. Very deep, however narrow. Birgitte actually grinned; the woman had no shame at all.

Before the discussion could go any further, a woman with short black hair, in the livery of House Mitsobar, entered without knocking, which Nynaeve thought rude no matter what Elayne said was proper for servants. Her dress was white, the skirt sewn up to the knee on the left side to expose a green petticoat, with a snug bodice embroidered on the left breast with a green Anchor and Sword. Even the livery’s narrow neckline plunged as far as Nynaeve recalled. Plump and somewhere in her middle years, the woman hesitated, then curtsied and addressed herself to everyone. “Queen Tylin wishes to see the three Aes Sedai, if it pleases them.”

Nynaeve exchanged wondering looks with Elayne and the others.

“There are only two of us Aes Sedai here,” Elayne said after a moment. “Perhaps you meant to go to Merilille?”

“I was directed to this apartment . . . Aes Sedai.” The pause was barely long enough to notice, and the woman just missed turning