A Memory of Light

tenmi.
    She coughed at the smoke, but now that she was outside, the air was clearer. None of the Sharans were here on this side of the building. They were all attacking from the other directions. She sprinted along the wall. Channelers were dangerous, but if she could put a knife in one, all of the One Power in the world wouldn’t matter.
    She peeked around the corner, and was surprised by a man crouching there, a feral look in his eyes. He had an angular face; his blood-red neck tattoos looked like claws, cupping his light-skinned head and chin.
    He growled, and Min threw herself backward to the ground, ducking a ribbon of fire and throwing her knife.
    The man caught it in the air. He prowled forward in a crouch, bestial, smiling at her.
    Then he jerked, suddenly, and fell over, thrashing. A trickle of blood came from his lips.
    “That,” a woman said nearby, a sound of utter distaste in her tone, “is something I’m not supposed to know how to do, but stopping someone’s heart with the One Power is quiet. It requires very little Power, surprisingly, which is pertinent to me.”
    “Siuan!” Min said. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
    “Lucky for you I am,” Siuan said with a snort, inspecting the body, staying low. “Bah. Nasty business that, but if you’re going to eat a fish, you should be willing to gut it yourself. What’s wrong, girl? You’re safe now. No need to look so pale.”
    “You’re not supposed to be here!” Min said. “I told you. Stay near Gareth Bryne!”
    “I did stay near him, almost near as his own smallclothes, I’ll have you know. We saved one another’s lives because of it, so I guess the viewing was right. Are they ever wrong?”
    “No, I’ve told you that,” Min whispered. “Never. Siuan ... I saw an aura around Bryne that meant you had to stay together, or the two of you would die. It hangs above you, right now. Whatever you think you did, the viewing has not been accomplished yet. It’s still there”
    Siuan stood frozen for a moment. “Cauthon is in danger.”
    “But—”
    “I don’t care, girl!” Nearby, the ground trembled with the force of the One Power. The damane were fighting back. “If Cauthon falls, this battle is lost! I don’t care if we both die from this. We must help. Move!”
    Min nodded, then joined her as she moved around the side of the ragged building. The firefight outside was a raw mix of explosions, smoke and flames. Members of the Deathwatch Guard charged the Sharans, swords out, heedless of their companions being slaughtered around them. That, at least, was keeping the channelers busy.
    The command post burned with such heat that Min had to shy back, raising an arm.
    “Hold on,” Siuan said, then used the One Power to draw a small column of water out of a nearby barrel, spraying them both. “I’ll try to dampen the flames,” she said, redirecting the small column of water to the command post. “All right. Lets go.”
    Min nodded, bursting through the flames, Siuan joining her. The tenmi walls inside had all started aflame, burning away quickly. Fire dripped from the ceiling.
    “There,” Min said, blinking away tears from the heat and the smoke. She pointed toward dark figures struggling near the center of the building and Mat’s blazing map table. There seemed to be a group of three or four people fighting Mat. Light, they were all Gray Men—not just one of them! Tuon was down.
    Min ran past the corpse of a sul’dam alongside several guards. Siuan used the One Power to haul one of the Gray Men away from Mat. Guards’ corpses created shadows of firelight on the floor. One damane still lived, huddled in a corner, looking terrified, her leash on the floor. Her sul’dam lay a distance away, unmoving. Her grip had been knocked free, it appeared, and then she was killed as she tried to get back to her damane.
    “Do something!” Min shouted at the girl, grabbing her by the arm.
    The damane shook her head, crying.
    “Burn you—” Min said.
    The ceiling of the structure groaned. Min ran for Mat. One Gray Man was dead, but there were two others, wearing the uniforms of Seanchan guards. Min had trouble seeing the living ones; they were inhumanly average in every way. Utterly nondescript.
    Mat bellowed, knifing one of the men, but he didn’t have his spear. Min didn’t know where it was. Mat pushed forward, reckless, taking a gash along his side. Why?
    Tuon, Min realized, stumbling to a halt. One of the Gray Men knelt