Renna wore a fixed stare of horror. Seta's shoulders shook as she sobbed into her hands. Nynaeve hardened her heart — It is justice, she told herself. It is — and herded the others out of the room.

No one paid any more attention to them going out than they had coming in. Nynaeve supposed she had the sul'dam dress to thank for that, but she could not wait to change into something else. Anything else. The dirtiest rag would feel cleaner on her skin.

The girls were silent, walking close behind her, until they were out on the cobblestone street again. She did not know if it was what she had done or the fear that someone might stop them. She scowled. Would they have felt better if she had let them work themselves up to cutting the women's throats?

“Horses,” Egwene said. “We will need horses. I know the stable where they took Bela, but I don't think we can get to her.”

“We have to leave Bela here,” Nynaeve told her. “We are leaving by ship.”

“Where is everybody?” Min said, and suddenly Nynaeve realized the street was empty.

The crowds were gone, not a sign of them to be seen; every shop and window along the street were shuttered tight. But up the street from the harbor came a formation of Seanchan soldiers, a hundred or more in ordered ranks, with an officer at their head in his painted armor. They were still halfway down the street from the women, but they marched with a grim, implacable step, and it seemed to Nynaeve that every eye was fixed on her. That's ridiculous. I can't see their eyes inside those helmets, and if anybody had given an alarm, it would be behind us. She stopped anyway.

“There are more behind us,” Min murmured. Nynaeve could hear those boots, now. “I don't know which will reach us first.”

Nynaeve took a deep breath. “They are nothing to do with us.” She looked beyond the approaching soldiers, to the harbor, filled with tall, boxy Seanchan ships. She could not make out Spray; she prayed it was still there, and ready. “We will walk right past them.” Light, I hope we can.

“What if they want you to join them, Nynaeve?” Elayne asked. “You are wearing that dress. If they start asking questions ...”

“I will not go back,” Egwene said grimly. “I'll die first. Let me show them what they've taught me.” To Nynaeve's eye, a golden nimbus suddenly seemed to surround her.

“No!” she said, but it was too late.

With a roar like thunder, the street under the first ranks of Seanchan erupted, dirt and cobblestones and armored men thrown aside like Spray from a fountain. Still glowing, Egwene spun to stare up the street, and the thunderous roar was repeated. Dirt rained down on the women. Shouting Seanchan soldiers scattered in good order to shelter in alleys and behind stoops. In moments they were all out of sight, except for those who lay around the two large holes marring the street. Some of those stirred feebly, and moans drifted along the street.

Nynaeve threw up her hands, trying to look in both directions at once. “You fool! We are trying not to attract attention!” There was no hope of that now. She only hoped they could manage to work their way around the soldiers to the harbor through the alleys. The damane must know, too, now. They could not have missed that.

“I won't go back to that collar,” Egwene said fiercely. “I won't!”

“Look out!” Min shouted.

With a shrill whine, a fireball as big as a horse arched into the air over the rooftops and began to fall. Directly toward them.

“Run!” Nynaeve shouted, and threw herself into a dive toward the nearest alleyway, between two shuttered shops.

She landed awkwardly on her stomach with a grunt, losing half her breath, as the fireball struck. Hot wind washed over her down the narrow passage. Gulping air, she rolled onto her back and stared back into the street.

The cobblestones where they had been standing were chipped and cracked and blackened in a circle ten paces across. Elayne was crouched just inside another alley on the other side of the street. Of Min and Egwene, there was no sign. Nynaeve clapped a hand to her mouth in horror.

Elayne seemed to understand what she was thinking. The DaughterHeir shook her head violently and pointed down the street. They had gone that way.

Nynaeve heaved a sigh of relief that immediately turned to a growl. Fool girl! We could have gotten by them! There was no time for recriminations, though. She scooted to the corner and peered cautiously around the edge of the building.

A headsized fireball flashed down the street toward her. She leaped back just before it exploded against the corner where her own head had been, showering her with stone chips.

Anger had her awash in the One Power before she was aware of it. Lightning flashed out of the sky, striking somewhere up the street with a crash near the origin of the fireball. Another jagged bolt split the sky, and then she was running down the alley. Behind her, lightning lanced the mouth of the alley.

If Domon doesn't have that ship waiting, I'll ... Light, let us all reach it safely.

Bayle Domon jerked erect as lightning streaked across the slategray sky, striking somewhere in the town, then again. There do no be enough clouds for that!

Something rumbled loudly up in the town, and a ball of fire smashed into a rooftop just above the docks, throwing splintered slates in wide arcs. The docks had emptied themselves of people a while back, except for a few Seanchan; they ran wildly, now, drawing swords and shouting. A man appeared from one of the warehouses with a grolm at his side, running to keep up with the beast's long leaps as they vanished into one of the streets leading up from the water.

One of Domon's crewmen jumped for an axe and swung it high over a mooring cable.

In two strides, Domon seized the upraised axe with one hand and the man's throat with the other. “Spray do stay till I do say sail, Aedwin Cole!”

“They're going mad, Captain!” Yarin shouted. An explosion sent echoes rumbling across the harbor, sending the gulls into screaming circles, and lightning flickered again, crashing to earth inside Falme. “The damane will kill us all! Let us go while they're busy killing one another. They will never notice us till we are gone!”

“I did give my word,” Domon said. He wrenched the axe from Cole's hand and threw it clattering onto the deck. “I did give my word.” Hurry, woman, he thought, Aes Sedai or whatever you be. Hurry!

Geofram Bornhald eyed the lightning flashing over Falme and dismissed it from his mind. Some huge flying creature — one of the Seanchan monsters, no doubt — flew wildly to escape the bolts. If there was a storm, it would hinder the Seanchan as much as it did him. Nearly treeless hills, a few topped by sparse thickets, still hid the town