Knife of Dreams

Halfway across the town, she looked back toward the gates, no more than a hundred and fifty paces behind. The street was still empty for the moment, but soon the first white-clad men and women would materialize with their water buckets. Fetching water was a task that began early and lasted all day. They had to hurry, now. Turning down a narrower side street, she started to walk faster, although she had trouble keeping her basket balanced. The others must have been having the same difficulty, yet no one complained. They had to be out of sight before those gai’shain appeared. There was no reason for any gai’shain entering the town to leave the main street until they reached the cistern below the fortress. An attempt to curry favor or just a careless word could send Shaido into the town hunting for them, and there was only one way out, short of climbing onto the walls and dropping ten paces to the ground hoping that no one broke a leg.

At a now signless i

Lacile remained by the doorway, but the others hurried to Faile without their baskets.

“At last,” Alliandre said, gingerly touching the rod with her fingertips. “The price of our freedom. What is it?”

“An angreal” Faile said, “or perhaps a ter’angreal. I don’t know for certain, except that Galina wants it very badly, so it must be one or the other.”

Maighdin put her hand on the rod boldly. “It could be either,” she murmured. “They often have an odd feel. So I’ve been told, anyway.” She claimed never to have been to the White Tower, but Faile was not so sure as she once had been. Maighdin could cha

Arrela gave a shake of her head and backed away a step. She was Tairen, and despite traveling with Aes Sedai, she was still uncomfortable over the Power or anything to do with it. She looked at the smooth white rod as if at a red adder and licked her lips. “Galina might be waiting on us. She might get angry if we make her wait long.”

“Is the way still clear, Lacile?” Faile asked as she stuck the rod far down into her basket. Arrela exhaled heavily, clearly as relieved at having the thing out of her sight as she had been to see Faile earlier.

“Yes,” the Cairhienin replied, “but I do not understand why.” She still stood so that one eye could peek around the corner of the doorframe. “The first gai’shain should be coming for water by now.”

“Maybe something has happened in the camp,” Maighdin said. Suddenly, her face was grim and her knife was in her hand, a wooden-handled affair with a chipped and pitted blade.

Faile nodded slowly. Maybe something such as Dairaine having been found already. She could not tell where Faile and the others had been going, but she might have recognized some among the waiting gai’shain. How long would they hold out if put to the question? How long would Alvon hold out if Theril were? “There’s nothing we can do about it, in any case. Galina will get us out.”

Even so, when they left the i

They did not have far to run. In moments, the smell of charred wood that had faded from the rest of Maiden began to grow. The southern end of Maiden was a ruin. They halted at the edge of the devastation and edged around a corner so they would not be seen by anyone glancing down the street. From where they stood to the southern wall, near two hundred paces, marched roofless shells with blackened stone walls interspersed with piles of charred beams washed clean of ash by the rains. In places, not even the heaviest timbers remained. Only on the south side of this street were there any structures even close to whole. This was where the fire that raged after the Shaido took the city had been finally stopped. Half a dozen buildings stood without roofs, though the lower floors looked intact, and twice as many were leaning piles of black timbers and half-burned boards that appeared on the edge of collapse.

“There.” Maighdin said, pointing east along the street. A long length of red cloth fluttered in the breeze where she pointed. It was tied to a house that seemed ready to fall in. Walking to it slowly, they rested their baskets on the paving stones. The red cloth fluttered again.

“Why would she want to meet us here’.” Alliandre muttered. “That could cave in if anybody sneezed.” She rubbed at her nose as though the word had given her the urge.

“It is quite sound. I inspected it.” Galina’s voice behind them jerked Faile’s head around. The woman was striding toward them, plainly from one of the sound buildings on the north side of the street. After so long seeing her in that belt and collar of gold and firedrops, she looked odd without them. She still wore her white silk robes, but the absence of the jewelry was convincing. Galina had not somehow managed to turn truth on its head. She was leaving today.

“Why not in one of the sound buildings?” Faile demanded. “Or right here?”

“Because I don’t want anyone to see it in my hands,’ Galina said, walking past her. “Because no one will look inside that ruin. Because I say so.” She stepped through what had been a doorway, ducking under a heavy, charred roof beam that slanted across the opening, and immediately turned to her right and began descending stairs. “Don’t dawdle.”

Faile exchanged looks with the other women. This was more than passing strange.

“If she’ll get us out of here,” Alliandre growled, snatching up her basket, “I’m willing to hand her the thing in a privy.” Still, she waited on Faile to pick up her own basket and lead the way.

Charred timbers and blackened boards hung low over the stone stairs that led downward, but Galina’s ease at entering reassured Faile. The woman would not risk being buried alive or crushed at the very moment she finally gained the rod. Bars and beams of light filtering through gaps in the wreckage gave enough illumination to show that the basement was quite clear despite the treacherous nature of what lay above. Large barrels stacked along one stone wall, most scorched and with staves sprung from the heat, said this had been an i

Or perhaps a wine merchant’s shop. The area around Maiden had produced a great deal of mediocre wine.

Galina stood in the middle of the grit-covered stone floor, in a small beam of light. Her face was all Aes Sedai calm, her agitation of the previous day completely subdued. “Where is it?” she said coolly. “Give it to me.”