A Memory of Light

pointed to the Seanchan pair. “Take these somewhere safe and keep watch on them. I’ll deal with them later.”
    The soldiers nodded. The man went reluctantly, the woman more easily. She couldn’t channel, so she wasn’t a freed damane. That didn’t mean she wasn’t a sul’dam , though.
    Egwene returned to Nynaeve, who still knelt beside Talmanes. The sickness had retreated from the man’s skin, leaving it pale. “Take him somewhere to rest,” Nynaeve said tiredly to several watching members of the Band. “I’ve done what I can.”
    She looked up at Egwene as the men carried him away. “Light,” Nynaeve whispered, “that took a lot out of me. Even with my angreal. I’m impressed that Moiraine managed it with Tam, all that time ago . . .” There seemed to be a note of pride in Nynaeve’s voice.
    She had wanted to heal Tam, but could not—though, of course, Nynaeve had not known what she had been doing at the time. She had come a long, long way since then.
    “Is it true, Mother?” Nynaeve asked, rising. “About Caemlyn?”
    Egwene nodded.
    “This is going to be a long night,” Nynaeve said, looking at the wounded still pouring through the gateways.
    “And a longer tomorrow,” Egwene said. “Here, let us link. I’ll lend you my strength.”
    Nynaeve looked shocked. “Mother?”
    “You are better at Healing than I.” Egwene smiled. “I may be Amyrlin, Nynaeve, but I am still Aes Sedai. Servant of all. My strength will be of use to you.”
    Nynaeve nodded and they linked. The two of them joined the group of Aes Sedai that Romanda had set Healing the refugees with the worst wounds.

    “Faile has been organizing my network of eyes-and-ears,” Perrin said to Rand as the two of them hurried toward Perrin’s camp. “She might be there with them tonight. I’ll warn you, I’m not certain she likes you.”
    She would be a fool to like me, Rand thought. She probably knows what I’m going to require of you before this is over.
    “Well,” Perrin said, “I guess that she does like that I know you. She’s cousin to a queen, after all. I think she still worries you’ll go mad and hurt me.”
    “The madness has already come,” Rand said, “and I have it in my grip. As for hurting you, she’s probably right. I don’t think I can avoid hurting those around me. It was a hard lesson to learn.”
    “You implied that you’re mad,” Perrin said, hand resting on his hammer again as he walked. He wore it at his side, large though it was; he’d obviously needed to construct a special sheath for it. An amazing piece of work. Rand kept intending to ask whether it was one of the Power-wrought weapons his Asha’man had been making— “But Rand, you’re not. You don’t seem at all crazy to me.”
    Rand smiled, and a thought fluttered at the edge of his mind. “I am mad, Perrin. My madness is these memories, these impulses. Lews Therin tried to take over. I was two people, fighting over control of myself. And one of them was completely insane.”
    “Light,” Perrin whispered, “that sounds horrible.”
    “It wasn’t pleasant. But . . . here’s the thing, Perrin. I’m increasingly certain that I needed these memories. Lews Therin was a good man. I was a good man, but things went wrong—I grew too arrogant, I assumed I could do everything myself. I needed to remember that; without the madness . . . without these memories, I might have gone charging in alone again.”
    “So you are going to work with the others?” Perrin asked, looking up toward where Egwene and the other members of the White Tower were camped. “This looks an awful lot like armies gathering to fight one another.
    I’ll make Egwene see sense,” Rand said. “I’m right, Perrin. We need to break the seals. I don’t know why she denies this.”
    “She’s the Amyrlin now.” Perrin rubbed his chin. “She’s Watcher of the Seals, Rand. It’s up to her to make sure they’re cared for.”
    “It is. Which is why I will persuade her that my intentions for them are correct.”
    “Are you sure about breaking them, Rand?” Perrin asked. “Absolutely sure?”
    “Tell me, Perrin. If a metal tool or weapon shatters, can you stick it back together and make it work properly?”
    “Well, you can? Perrin said. “It’s better not to. The grain of the steel . . . well, you’re almost always better off reforging it. Melting it down, starting from scratch.”
    “It is the same here. The seals are broken, like a sword. We