A Memory of Light

could have peace, an end to suffering. Or we could have another Breaking. Light, Egwene. I don’t know for certain if I could mend the seals, or make new ones, in the same way. The Dark One has to be ready for that plan.”
    “And you have another one?”
    “I’ve been telling it to you. I break the seals to get rid of the old, imperfect plug, and try again in a new way.”
    “The world itself is the cost of failure, Rand.” She thought a moment. “There’s more here. What aren’t you telling me?”
    Rand looked hesitant, and for a moment, he seemed the child she’d once caught sneaking bites of Mistress Cauthon’s pies with Mat. “I’m going to kill him, Egwene.”
    “Who? Moridin?”
    “The Dark One.”
    She drew back in shock. “I’m sorry. What did you—”
    “I’m going to kill him,” Rand said passionately, leaning in. “I’m going to end the Dark One. We will never have true peace so long as he is there, lurking. I’ll rip open the prison, I’ll enter it and I’ll face him. I’ll build a new prison if I have to, but first, I’m going to try to end all of this. Protect the Pattern, the Wheel, for good.”
    “Light, Rand, you’re insane!”
    “Yes. That is part of the price I have paid. Fortunately. Only a man with shaken wits would be daring enough to try this.”
    “I’ll fight you, Rand,” she whispered. “I won’t let you pull all of us into this. Listen to reason. The White Tower should be guiding you here.”
    “I’ve known the White Tower’s guidance, Egwene,” he replied. “In a box, beaten each day.”
    The two locked eyes across the table. Nearby, other arguments continued.
    “I don’t mind signing this,” Tenobia said. “It looks fine to me.”
    “Bah!” Gregorin snarled. “You Borderlanders never care anything for southern politics. You’ll sign it? Well, good for you. I, however, won’t chain my country to the wall.”
    “Curious,” Easar said. The calm man shook his head, pure white topknot bobbing. “As I understand, it’s not your country, Gregorin. Unless you’re assuming that the Lord Dragon will die, and that Mattin Stepaneos will not demand his throne back. He may be willing for the Lord Dragon to wear the Laurel Crown, but not you, I’m sure.”
    “Isn’t all of this meaningless?” Alliandre asked. “The Seanchan are our worry now, aren’t they? Peace can never exist so long as they are there.
    Yes,” Gregorin said. “The Seanchan and those cursed Whitecloaks.
    We will sign it,” Galad said. Somehow the Lord Captain Commander of the Children of the Light had ended up holding the official copy of the document. Egwene didn’t look at him. It was hard not to stare. She loved Gawyn, and not Galad, but . . . well ... it was hard not to stare.
    “Mayene will sign it as well,” Berelain said. “I find the Lord Dragon’s will to be perfectly just.”
    “Of course you’d sign it.” Darlin sniffed. “My Lord Dragon, this document seems designed to protect the interests of some nations more than others.”
    “I want to hear what his third requirement is,” Roedran said. “I don’t care anything for talk of the seals; that is Aes Sedai business. He claimed there were three requirements, and we have heard only two.”
    Rand raised an eyebrow. “The third and final price—the last thing you will pay me in exchange for my life on the slopes of Shayol Ghul—is this: I command your armies for the Last Battle. Utterly and completely. You do as I say, go where I say, fight where I say.”
    This caused a larger eruption of arguments. It was obviously the least outrageous of the three demands, though it was impossible for reasons Egwene had already determined.
    The rulers treated it as an attack on their sovereignty. Gregorin glowered at Rand through the din, only maintaining the most threadbare respect. Amusing, since he had the least authority of them all. Darlin shook his head, and Elayne’s face was livid.
    Those on Rand’s side argued back, primarily the Borderlanders. They’re desperate, Egwene thought. They’re being overrun. They probably thought that if command were given to the Dragon, he would immediately march to the defense of the Borderlands. Darlin and Gregorin would never agree to that. Not with the Seanchan breathing down their necks.
    Light, what a mess.
    Egwene listened to the arguments, hoping they would set Rand on edge. Once, they might have. Now, he stood and watched, arms folded behind his back. His face