A Memory of Light

its members, at least, had managed to flee—so she should learn what she could.
    Gawyn prodded her softly. She looked to him, and felt his worry for her.
    Now? he mouthed, gesturing behind them. Perhaps, with everyone’s attention drawn by . . . whatever was happening, the two of them could sneak away. They started to back up, shuffling quietly.
    One of the Sharan channelers called out. Egwene froze. She’d been spotted!
    No. No. Egwene breathed deeply, trying to calm her heart, which seemed to be trying to beat its way out through her chest. The woman was speaking to the others. Egwene thought she’d heard the words “It is done” through the thick accent.
    The group of people knelt down. The bejeweled trio bowed their heads further. And then, near the captives, the air bent.
    Egwene couldn’t describe it any other way. It warped and . . . and seemed to rip apart, twisting like it did above the road on a hot day. Something formed from this disruption: a tall man in glistening armor.
    He wore no helmet and had dark hair and light skin. His nose was slightly hooked, and he was very handsome, particularly in that armor. It looked to be constructed all of coins, silvery and overlapping. The coins were polished to such a shine, they reflected the faces around him like a mirror.
    “You have done well,” the man announced to those bowing before him. “You may stand.” His voice bore hints of the Sharan accent, but it was not nearly as thick.
    The man placed his hand on the pommel of the sword at his waist as the others rose. From the darkness behind, a group of the channelers crawled forward. They bobbed for this newcomer in a kind of bow. He removed one of his gauntlets, reached out with an offhanded gesture and scratched the head of one of the men, as a lord might favor a hound.
    “So these are the new inacal ,” the man said speculatively. “Do any of you know who I am?”
    The captives cringed before him. Though the Sharans had risen, the captives were smart enough to remain on the ground. None of them spoke.
    “I suspected not,” the man said. “Though one can never tell if one’s fame has spread unexpectedly. Tell me, if you know who I am. Speak it, and I will let you free.”
    No replies.
    “Well, you will listen and remember,” the man said. “I am Bao, the Wyld. I am your savior. I have crawled through the depths of sorrow and have risen up to accept my glory. I have come seeking what was taken from me. Remember that.”
    The captives cowered further, obviously uncertain what to do. Gawyn tugged on Egwene’s sleeve, motioning backward, but she did not move. There was something about that man . . .
    He looked up suddenly. He focused on the women channelers, then gazed about, peering into the darkness. “Do any of you inacal know the Dragon?” he asked, though he sounded distracted. “Speak up. Tell me.”
    “I did see him,” said one of the captive soldiers. “Several times.”
    “Did you speak with him?” Bao asked, strolling away from the captives.
    No, great Lord,” the soldier said. “The Aes Sedai, they did speak with him. Not I.”
    “Yes. I worried you would be of no use,” Bao said. “Servants, we are being watched. You have not searched this camp as well as you claimed. I sense a woman nearby who can channel.”
    Egwene felt a spike of alarm. Gawyn pulled on her arm, meaning to go, but if they ran, they’d be captured for certain. Light! She—
    The crowd turned at a sudden noise near one of the fallen tents. Bao raised a hand, and Egwene heard a furious yell in the darkness. Moments later, Leane floated through the crowd of Sharans, tied in Air, her eyes wide. Bao brought her up close to him, holding her wrapped in weaves that Egwene could not see.
    Her heart continued to pound. Leane was alive. How had she remained hidden? Light! What could Egwene do?
    “Ah,” Bao said. “One of these . . . Aes Sedai. You, you have spoken with the Dragon?”
    Leane didn’t respond. To her credit, she kept her face blank.
    “Impressive,” Bao said, reaching up fingers and touching her chin. He held up another hand, and the collected captives suddenly started to writhe and scream. They burst into flames, yelling in agony. Egwene had to forcibly stop herself from reaching for the True Source as she watched. She was crying by the time it ended, though she did not remember starting.
    The Sharans shuffled.
    “Do not be displeased,” Bao said to them. “I know you went to great