A Memory of Light

Gaul, they stayed with him when their fellows went elsewhere. Perrin had not asked them why. He didn’t really care why. Having them with him was useful, and he was grateful.
    The Aiel let him pass their perimeter. He found Edarra sitting beside a fire, well rimmed with stones to prevent the chance of a stray spark escaping. These woods, dry as they were, could go up easier than a barn full of last harvests hay.
    She glanced at Perrin as he settled down near her. The Aiel looked young but smelled of patience, inquisitiveness and control. Wisdom. She did not ask why Perrin had come to her. She waited for him to speak.
    “Are you a dreamwalker?” Perrin asked.
    She studied him in the night; he had the distinct impression this was not a question a man—or an outsider—was supposed to ask.
    He was surprised, then, when she answered.
    “No”
    “Do you know much of it?” Perrin asked.
    “Some.”
    “I need to know of a way to enter the World of Dreams physically. Not just in my dreams, but in my real body. Have you heard of such a thing?”
    She inhaled sharply. “Do not think of that, Perrin Aybara. It is evil.”
    Perrin frowned. Strength in the wolf dream—in Tel’aran’rhiod —was a delicate thing. The more strongly Perrin put himself into the dream—the more solidly there he was—the easier he found it to change things there, manipulate that world.
    That came at a risk, however. Going into the dream too strongly, he risked cutting himself off from his sleeping body in the real world.
    That apparently didn’t bother Slayer. Slayer was strong there, so very strong; the man was in the dream physically. Perrin was increasingly sure of it.
    Our contest will not end, Perrin thought, until you are the prey, Slayer. Hunter of wolves. I will end you.
    “In many ways,” Edarra muttered, looking at him, “you are still a child, for all the honor you have found.” Perrin had grown accustomed to— though not fond of—women who looked not a year or two older than he addressing him so. “None of the dreamwalkers will teach you this thing. It is evil.”
    “Why is it evil?” Perrin said.
    “To enter into the world of dreams in the flesh costs you part of what makes you human. What’s more, if you die while in that place—and you are in the flesh—it can make you die forever. No more rebirth, Perrin Aybara. Your thread in the Pattern could end forever, you yourself destroyed. This is not a thing you should contemplate.”
    “The servants of the Shadow do this, Edarra,” Perrin said. “They take these risks to dominate. We need to take the same risks in order to stop them.”
    Edarra hissed softly, shaking her head. “Do not cut off your foot for fear that a snake will bite it, Perrin Aybara. Do not make a terrible mistake because you fear something that seems worse. This is all I will say on the topic.”
    She stood and left him sitting by the fire.

CHAPTER 13

    What Must Be Done

    T he army split before Egwene as she rode forward toward the hills in southeastern Kandor where they would shortly engage the advancing enemy. She led over a hundred Aes Sedai, many of them from the Green Ajah. Bryne’s tactical revisions had been quick and efficient. He had something better than archers for breaking a charge, something more destructive than heavy cavalry for causing sheer damage.
    It was time to use it.
    Two other smaller forces of Aes Sedai made their way to the flanks of the army. These hills might once have been lush and green. Now they were yellow and brown, as if burned by sunlight. She tried to see the advantages. At least they would have sure footing, and though the sky broke with periodic lightning, rain seemed unlikely.
    The approaching Trollocs seemed to extend forever in either direction. Though Egwene’s army was enormous, it suddenly felt tiny. Fortunately, Egwene had a single advantage: The Trolloc army was driven by a need to continue moving forward. Trolloc armies fell apart if they were not constantly advancing. They’d start bickering. They’d run out of food.
    Egwene’s army was a barrier in their way. And bait. The Shadowspawn couldn’t afford to leave such a force as theirs at large, and so Egwene would draw them along a course she determined.
    Her Aes Sedai reached the battlefront. Bryne had split his army into large, highly mobile strike units to hit the Trollocs wherever and whenever they showed vulnerability.
    The offensive structure of Bryne’s forces seemed to confuse