A Memory of Light

two peaks, pulling toward one another, all between shattered and broken. Perrin shifted to the front of the tunnel into the Pit of Doom, then stepped in, passing the violet barrier he’d erected earlier.
    Lanfear lounged inside. Her hair was jet black, as it had been when he’d first met her, and her face was familiar. It looked as it once had.
    I find that dreamspike annoying, she said. “Did you have to place it here?”
    It keeps the other Forsaken away,” Perrin said absently.
    “I suppose it does that,” she said, folding her arms.
    “He is still ahead?” Perrin asked.
    It is the end, she said, nodding. Something amazing just happened.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “This might be the most important moment for humankind since we opened the Bore.”
    “Let’s make sure nothing goes wrong, then,” Perrin said, walking forward down the long maw of stone, Lanfear at his side.
    At the end of the tunnel, they found an unexpected scene. Someone else was holding Callandor .; the man that Rand had been fighting earlier. Maybe that was Demandred? Perrin did not know. He was certainly one of the Forsaken.
    That man knelt on the floor, with Nynaeve’s hand on his shoulder. She stood just behind Rand and to the left. Moiraine was on Rand’s right, all three of them standing tall, with eyes forward, staring into the nothingness ahead.
    The mountain rumbled.
    “Perfect,” Lanfear whispered. “I couldn’t have dreamed that it could come out this well.” She eyed the two women. “We will need to strike quickly. I will kill the taller woman, you the shorter one.”
    Perrin frowned. Something about that seemed very wrong. “Kill . . . ?
    Of course,” Lanfear said. “If we strike quickly, there will still be time to seize control of Moridin while he holds that blade. With that, I can force Lews Therin to bow.” She narrowed her eyes. “He holds the Dark One between his fingers, needing only one squeeze to pinch the life—if it can be called that—away. Only one hand can save the Great Lord. In this moment, I earn my reward. In this moment, I become highest of the high.”
    “You . . . you want to save the Dark One?” Perrin said, raising a hand to his head. “You joined us. I remember . . .”
    She glanced at him. “Such an inferior tool,” she said, smelling dissatisfied. “I hate having to use it. This makes me no better than Graendal.” She shivered. “If they had given me more time, I would have had you fairly.” She patted Perrin fondly on the cheek. “You are troubled. The taller one is from your village, I remember. You grew up together, I presume? I won’t make you kill her, my wolf. You can kill the short one. You hate her, don’t you?
    I . . . yes, I do. She stole me away from my family. It’s because of her that they died, really. I would have been there, otherwise.”
    “That’s right,” Lanfear said. “We must be quick. Our moment of opportunity will not last long.”
    She turned toward the two women. Nynaeve and Moiraine. His friends. And then . . . and then Rand. She would kill him, Perrin knew. She would force him to bow, and then she would kill him. All along, her goal had been to put herself into a position where the Dark One himself would be helpless and she could step in to bring him salvation.
    Perrin came up beside her.
    “We strike together,” Lanfear said softly. “The barriers between worlds have been broken here. They will be able to fight back unless we are quick. We must kill them at the same time.”
    This is wrong, Perrin thought. This is very, very wrong. He couldn’t let it happen, and yet his hands rose.
    IT IS WRONG. He didn’t know why. His thoughts wouldn’t allow him to think of why.
    “Ready,” Lanfear said, eyes on Nynaeve.
    Perrin turned toward Lanfear.
    “I will count to three,” Lanfear said, not looking at him.
    My duty, Perrin thought, is to do the things Rand cannot.
    This was the wolf dream. In the wolf dream, what he felt became reality.
    “One,” Lanfear said.
    He loved Faile.
    “Two.”
    He loved Faile.
    “Three.”
    He loved Faile. The Compulsion vanished like smoke in the wind, thrown off like clothing changed in the blink of an eye. Before Lanfear could strike, Perrin reached out and took her by the neck.
    He twisted once. Her neck popped in his fingers.
    Lanfear crumpled, and Perrin caught her body. She was beautiful. As she died, she changed back to the other form she had been wearing before, her new body.
    Perrin felt a