Min gave a start and looked back over her shoulder. A sul'dam and damane came down the steps she had used and turned the other way, toward the stables and horse yards. Another woman with the lightning panels on her dress stood at the top of the stairs talking with someone still inside. Min grabbed her friends by the arms and hurried them down the street toward the harbor. “It's dangerous for you two here. Light, it's dangerous for you to be in Falme. There are damane everywhere, and if they find you ... You do know what damane are? Oh, you don't know how good it is to see you both.”

“I imagine about as half as good as it is to see you,” Nynaeve said. “Do you know where Egwene is? Is she in one of those buildings? Is she all right?”

Min hesitated a fraction before saying, “She's as well as can be expected.” Min could see it all too well, if she told them what was happening to Egwene right that moment. Nynaeve was as likely as not to go storming back in an attempt to stop it. Light, let it be over by now. Light, make her bend her stubborn neck just once before they almost break it first. “I don't know how to get her out, though. I found a ship captain who I think will take us if we can reach his ship with her — he won't help unless we make it that far, and I cannot say I blame him — but I have no idea how to do even that much.”

“A ship,” Nynaeve said thoughtfully. “I had meant to simply ride east, but I must say I've worried about it. As nearly as I can make out, we would have to be almost off Toman Head before we were clear of Seanchan patrols completely, and then there's supposed to be fighting of some sort on Almoth Plain. I never thought of a ship. We have horses, and we do not have money for passage. How much does this man want?”

Min shrugged. “I never got that far. We don't have any money, either. I thought I could put off paying until after we sail. Afterwards ... well, I don't think he'll put into any port where there are Seanchan. Wherever he threw us off, it would have to be better than here. The problem is convincing him to sail at all. He wants to, but they patrol off the harbor, too, and there is no way of telling if there's a damane on one of their ships until it's too late. 'Give me a damane of my own on my deck,' he says, 'and I will sail this instant.' Then he starts talking about drafts and shoals and lee shores. I don't understand any of that, but as long as I smile and nod every now and then, he keeps talking, and I think if I can keep him talking long enough, he'll talk himself into sailing.” She drew a shuddering breath; her eyes started stinging again. “Only, I don't think there's time to let him talk himself into it anymore. Nynaeve, they're going to send Egwene back to Seanchan, and soon.”

Elayne gasped. “But, why?”

“She is able to find ore,” Min said miserably. “A few days, she says, and I don't know if a few days is enough for this man to convince himself to sail. Even if it is, how do we take that Shadowspawned collar off her? How do we get her out of the house?”

“I wish Rand were here.” Elayne sighed, and when they both looked at her, she blushed and quickly added, “Well, he does have a sword. I wish we had somebody with a sword. Ten of them. A hundred.”

“It isn't swords or brawn we need now,” Nynaeve said, “but brains. Men usually think with the hair on their chests.” She touched her chest absently, as if feeling something through her coat. “Most of them do.”

“We would need an army,” Min said. “A large army. The Seanchan were outnumbered when they faced the Taraboners, and the Domani, and they won every battle easily, from what I hear.” She hurriedly pulled Nynaeve and Elayne to the opposite side of the street as a damane and sul'dam climbed past them on the other side. She was relieved there was no need for urging; the other two watched the linked women go as warily as she. “Since we don't have an army, the three of us will have to do it. I hope one of you can think of something I haven't; I've wracked my brains, and I always stumble when it comes to the a'dam, the leash and collar. Sul'dam don't like anyone watching too closely when they open them. I think I can get you inside, if that will help. One of you, anyway. They think of me as a servant, but servants may have visitors, as long as they keep to the servants' quarters.”

Nynaeve wore a thoughtful frown, but her face cleared almost immediately, taking on a purposeful look. “Don't you worry, Min. I have a few ideas. I have not spent my time here idly. You take me to this man. If he is any harder to handle than the Village Council with their backs up, I will eat this coat.”

Elayne nodded, grinning, and Min felt the first real hope she had had since arriving in Falme. For an instant Min found herself reading the auras of the other two women. There was danger, but that was to be expected — and new things, too, among the images she had seen before; it was like that, sometimes. A man's ring of heavy gold floated above Nynaeve's head, and above Elayne's, a redhot iron and an axe. They meant trouble, she was sure, but it seemed distant, somewhere in the future. Only for a moment did the reading last, and then all she saw was Elayne and Nynaeve, watching her expectantly.

“It's down near the harbor,” she said.

The sloping street became more crowded the further down they went. Street peddlers rubbed elbows with merchants who had brought wagons in from the inland villages and would not go out again until winter had come and gone, hawkers with their trays called to the passersby, Falmen in embroidered cloaks brushed past farm families in heavy fleece coats. Many people had fled here from villages further from the coast. Min saw no point to it—they had leaped from the possibility of a visit from the Seanchan to the certainty of Seanchan all around them—but she had heard what the Seanchan did when they first came to a village, and she could not blame the villagers too much for fearing another appearance. Everyone bowed when Seanchan walked past or a curtained palanquin was carried by up the steep street.

Min was glad to see Nynaeve and Elayne knew about the bowing. Barechested bearers paid no more mind to the people who bent themselves than did arrogant, armored soldiers, but failure to bow would surely catch their eyes.

They talked a little as they moved down the street, and she was surprised at first to learn they had been in the town only a few days less than Egwene and herself. After a moment, though, she decided it was no wonder they had not met earlier, not with the crowds in the streets. She had been reluctant to spend time further from Egwene than was necessary; there was always the fear that she would go for her allowed visit and find Egwene gone. And now she will be. Unless Nynae