A Memory of Light

becoming even more common.
    There was something distinctive about these. Egwene leaned forward, and found that the cracks seemed to empty into nothing. A deep blackness. Unnaturally so.
    “What is it?” Egwene asked.
    “Our people report seeing these,” Amys said softly. “Those fighting in Andor and those in the Blasted Lands with Rand al’Thor. They appear like fractures in the pattern itself. They remain dark like that for a few moments, then fade, leaving behind ordinary cracks.”
    “It is a very dangerous sign,” Bair said. “We sent one of ours to ask at the Borderlands, where Lan Mandragoran fights. It appears that the cracks are most common there.”
    “They appear more frequently when the Dreadlords fight,” Amys said. “When they use the weave known as balefire.”
    Egwene stared at that darkness, shivering. “Balefire weakens the Pattern. During the War of Power, even the Forsaken grew to fear using it, lest they unravel the world itself.”
    “We must spread the word to all of our allies,” Amys said. “We must not use this weave.”
    “It is forbidden of Aes Sedai already,” Egwene said. “But I will make it known that nobody is to consider breaking that rule.”
    “That is wise,” Melaine said. “For a people with so many rules for themselves, I have found that the Aes Sedai are very proficient at ignoring guidelines if their situation allows it.”
    “We trust our women,” Egwene said. “The Oaths hold them; otherwise, their own wisdom must guide them. If Moiraine had not been willing to bend this rule, Perrin would be dead—as would Mat, had Rand ignored the rule. But I will speak to the women.”
    Balefire bothered her. Not that it existed or did what it did. It was uniquely dangerous. And yet, what was it Perrin had said to her in the dream? It’s only another weave . . .
    It seemed unfair that the Shadow should have access to such a weapon as this, one that unraveled the Pattern as it was used. How would they fight it, how could they counter it?
    “This is not the only reason we sent to you, Egwene al’Vere,” Melaine said. “You have seen the changes to the World of Dreams?”
    Egwene nodded. “The storm grows worse here.”
    “We will not be visiting here often in the future,” Amys said. “We have made the decision. And, despite our complaints about him, the Car’a’carn does prepare his armies to move. It will not be long before we march with him to the Shadow’s own hold.”
    Egwene nodded slowly. “So this is it.”
    “I am proud of you, girl,” Amys said. Amys, tough-as-rocks Amys, looked teary-eyed. They rose, and Egwene embraced them one at a time.
    “Light shelter you, Amys, Melaine, Bair,” Egwene said. “Give my love to the others.”
    “It will be done, Egwene al’Vere,” Bair said. “May you find water and shade, now and always.”
    One by one, they faded from Tear. Egwene took a deep breath, looking upward. The building groaned, like a ship in a tempest. The rock itself seemed to shift around her.
    She had loved this place—not the Stone, but Tel’ararirhiod. It had taught her so much. But she knew, as she prepared to leave, that it was like a river in dangerous flood. Familiar and loved it might be, but she could not risk herself here. Not while the White Tower needed her.
    “And farewell to you, old friend,” she said to the air. “Until I dream again.”
    She let herself wake.
    Gawyn waited beside the bed, as usual. They were back in the Tower, Egwene fully dressed, in the chamber near her study. It was not yet evening, but the request from the Wise One was not something she had wished to ignore.
    “Hes here,” Gawyn said quietly, glancing at the door to her study.
    “Then let us meet him,” Egwene said. She prepared herself, rising, smoothing her skirt. She nodded to Gawyn, and they stepped out and went to meet the Dragon Reborn.
    Rand smiled when he saw her. He waited inside with two Maidens she did not know.
    “What is this about?” Egwene asked tiredly. “Convincing me to break the seals?”
    “You’ve grown cynical,” Rand noted.
    “The last two times we met,” Egwene said, “you pointedly tried to infuriate me. Am I not to expect it again?”
    “I am not trying to infuriate you,” Rand said. “Look, here.” He pulled something from his pocket. A hair ribbon. He held it out to her. “You always looked forward so to being able to braid your hair.”
    “So now you imply I’m a child?” Egwene asked,