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"You do not understand, Elayne." Aviendha gestured toward the center of the meadow, where the gateway had been. "That could have been no more than a flash of light, or even less. You ca
Elayne stared at her. She had stayed, knowing that? To risk your life was one thing, but to risk losing the ability to cha
She had only thought Aviendha blushed fiercely before. Even Aiel lovers did not kiss where anyone could see. Fiery sunsets paled beside Aviendha’s face. "I want you for my sister, too," she mumbled. Swallowing hard – and eyeing Birgitte, who was pretending to ignore them – she leaned over and quickly pressed her lips to Elayne’s cheek. Elayne loved her as much for that gesture as for the rest.
Birgitte had been gazing behind them, over her shoulder, and perhaps she had not been pretending after all, because she suddenly said, "Someone’s coming. Lan and Nynaeve, unless I miss my guess."
Awkwardly, they turned, hobbling and stumbling and groaning. It seemed quite ludicrous; heroes in stories never got hurt so they could barely stand. In the distance to the north, two riders appeared briefly through the trees. Briefly, but long enough to make out a tall man on a tall horse, galloping hard, and a woman on a shorter animal ru
Chulein moved the reins slightly, and Segani banked smoothly, turning on a ribbed wing. He was a well-trained raken, swift and agile, her favorite, though she had to share flying him. There were always more morat’rakenthan raken; a fact of life. Down in the farm below, balls of fire were leaping out of the air apparently, scattering in every direction. She tried to pay no attention; her job was to watch for trouble approaching from the area around the farm. At least the smoke had stopped rising from where Tauan and Macu had died in the olive grove.
A thousand paces above the ground, she had a very long view. All the other rakenwere off scouting the countryside; any woman who ran would be marked for checking, to see whether she was one of those who had caused all the excitement, though truth for sure, anyone in these lands who saw a rakenin the air likely would run. All Chulein had to do was watch for approaching trouble here. She wished she did not feel an itch between her shoulder blades; it always meant trouble wason the way. The wind of Segani’s flight was not bad at this speed, but she drew the drawstring of her waxed linen hood tighter under her chin, tested the leather safety straps that held her in the saddle, adjusted her crystal goggles, snugged her gauntlets.
Over a hundred Fists of Heaven were on the ground already, and more importantly, six sul’damwith damaneand another dozen carrying shoulder bags full of spare a’dam. The second flight would be lifting from the hills to the south with reinforcements. Better if more had come in the first strike, but there were few enough to’rakenwith the Hailene, and strong rumor had it that many of those had been given the task of ferrying the High Lady Suroth and her entire entourage down from Amadicia. Bad to think ill of the Blood, yet she wished more to’rakenhad been sent to Ebou Dar. No morat’rakencould think well of the huge, ungainly to’raken, fit only to carry burdens, but they could have put more Fists of Heaven on the ground faster, more sul’dam.
"Rumor says there are hundreds of marath’damanedown there," Eliya said loudly against her back. In the sky, you had to speak loudly, over the rush of wind. "Do you know what I’m going to do with my share of the taking gold? Buy an i
Chulein gri
Every woman flier – three in four were women – talked of a husband and children, but children meant an end to flying, too. More women left the Fists of Heaven in a month than left the sky in half a year.
"I think you should keep your eyes open," she said. But there was no harm in a little talk. She could have seen a child move in the olive groves below, much more anything that might threaten Fists of Heaven. The most lightly armored of soldiers, they were about as hard as the Deathwatch Guard; some said harder. "I’ll use my share to buy a damaneand hire a sul’dam." If there were half as many marath’damanedown there as rumor claimed, her share would buy two damane. Three! "A damanetrained to make Sky Lights. When I leave the sky, I’ll be as rich as one of the Blood." They had something called "fireworks" here – she had seen some fellows vainly trying to interest the Blood in Tanchico – but who would watch such a pitiful thing compared to the Sky Lights? Those fellows had been bundled out and dumped in the road outside the city.
"The farm!" Eliya shouted, and suddenly something hit Segani hard, harder than the worst storm gust Chulein had ever felt, tumbling him wing over wing.
Down the rakenplunged, screaming his raucous cry, spi
With a snap of his broad wings that jerked her sideways and rattled her teeth, Segani leveled out, the tips of his pinons brushing treetops as they swept down. With a calmness born of hard training, she checked the motion of his wings for strain. Nothing, but she would have a der’morat’rakenexamine him thoroughly anyway. A tiny thing that might slip by her eyes would not escape a master.
"It seems we’ve escaped the Lady of the Shadows one more time, Eliya." Turning to look over her shoulder, she let her words tail off. A length of broken safety strap trailed back from the empty seat behind her. Every flier knew that the Lady waited at the bottom of the long fall, but knowing never made seeing easier.
Offering a quick prayer for the dead, she firmly pushed herself back to duty and urged Segani to climb. A slow, spiraling climb, in case of some hidden strain, but as quick as she thought safe. Maybe a little quicker than safe. Smoke rising from beyond the knobby hill ahead made her frown, but what she saw as she cleared the crest dried her mouth. Her hands stilled on the reins, and Segani continued to climb on powerful sweeps of his wings.
The farm was... gone. Foundations scoured clean of the white buildings that had stood on them, the big structures built into a hillside smashed heaps of rubble. Gone. Everything was blackened and burned. Fire raged through the undergrowth on the slopes and made fans a hundred paces long into the olive groves and the forest, stretching from the spaces between the hills. Beyond lay broken trees for another hundred or more, all leaning away from the farm. She had never seen anything like it. Nothing could be alive down there. Nothing could have lived through that. Whatever it had been.