Towers of midnight

All three pulled to a halt. "Mirrors," Noal said. "I've seen it before. That's how they do it, obscuring things with mirrors." He sounded u

They were in the right place; Mat could smell it. The stink of the Eelfi

The room beyond was as he remembered it. No columns here, though the room was distinctly star-shaped. Eight tips and only the one doorway. Those glowing yellow strips ran up the sharp ends of the room, and eight empty pedestals stood, black and ominous, one at each point.

It was exactly the same. Except for the woman floating at its center.

She was clothed only in a fine white mist that shifted and shone around her, the details of her figure obfuscated but not hidden. Her eyes were closed, and her dark hair—curly but no longer in perfect ringlets—fluttered as if in a wind blowing up from beneath. Her hands rested atop her stomach, and there was a strange bracelet of something that looked like aged ivory on her left wrist.

Moiraine.

Mat felt a surge of emotions. Worry, frustration, concern, awe. She was the one who had started this all. He had hated her at times. He also owed her his life. She was the first one who had meddled, yanking him this way and that. Yet—looking back—he figured that she had been the most honest about it of anyone who had used him. Unapologetic, unyielding. And selfless.

She had dedicated everything to protecting three foolish boys, all ignorant of what the world would demand of them. She had determined to take them to safety. Maybe train them a little, whether they wanted it or not.

Because they needed it.

Light, her motives seemed clear to him now. That did not make him any less angry with her, but it did make him grateful. Burn her, but this was a confusing set of emotions! Those bloody foxes—how dare they keep her like this! Was she alive?

Thom and Noal were staring—Noal solemn, Thom disbelieving. So Mat stepped forward to pull Moiraine free. As soon as his hands touched the mist, however, he felt a blazing pain. He screamed, pulling back, shaking his hand.

"It's bloody hot," Mat said. "It—"

He cut off as Thom stepped forward.

"Thom…" Mat said warningly.

"I don't care," the gleeman said. He stepped up to the mist, reaching in, his clothing begi

Light! Mat had forgotten how small she was. A good head shorter than he was. Thom knelt, pulling off his gleeman's cloak and wrapping her in it. Her eyes were still closed.

"Is she…" Noal asked.

"She lives," Thom said quietly. "I felt her heartbeat." He took the bracelet off her arm. It was in the shape of a man bent backward with his wrists bound to his ankles, clothed in a strange suit of clothing. "It looks like a ter'angreal of some sort," Thom said, tucking it into his cloak pocket. "I—"

"It is an angreal," a voice proclaimed. "Strong enough to be nearly sa'angreal. It can be part of her price, should you wish to pay it."

Mat spun. The pedestals were now occupied by Eelfi

"Mark your tongues," Mat said to Thom and Noal, trying to contain his worry. "Speak amiss, and they'll have you strung up, claiming it was your own desire. Ask nothing of them."

The other two fell silent, Thom holding Moiraine close, Noal carrying his torch and staff warily, pack over his shoulder.

"This is the great hall," Mat said to the Eelfi

"The bargain has been arranged," one of the Eelfi

The other Eelfi

"What bargain?" Mat snapped, glancing around at the pedestals. "Burn you, what bargain?"

"A price must be paid," one said.

"The demands must be met," said another.

"A sacrifice must be given." This from one of the females. She smiled more broadly than the others. Her teeth were pointed, too.

"I want the way out restored as part of the bargain," Mat said. "I want it back where it was and open again. And I'm not bloody done negotiating, so don't assume that this is my only request, burn you."

"It will be restored," an Eelfi

"I want you to leave that way out open until we get through," Mat continued. "No blocking it up or making it bloody vanish when we arrive. And I want the way to be direct, no changing rooms about. A straight pathway. And you bloody foxes can't knock us unconscious or try to kill us or anything like that."

They did not like that. Mat caught several of them frowning. Good. They would see they were not negotiating with a child.

"We take her," Mat said. "We get out."

"These demands are expensive," one of the Eelfi

"The price has been set," another whispered from behind.

And it had been. Somehow, Mat knew. A part of him had known from the first time he had read that note. If he had never spoken to the Aelfi

They had warned him of a payment to come. For life. For Moiraine.

And he would have to pay it. In that moment, he knew that he would. For he knew that if he did not, the cost would be too great. Not just to Thom, not just to Moiraine, and not just to Mat himself. By what he'd been told, the fate of the world itself depended on this moment.

Well burn me for a fool, Mat thought. Maybe I am a hero after all. Didn't that beat all?

"I'll pay it," Mat a

"Done!" one of the male Eelfi

The eight creatures leaped—as if one—from their pedestals. They enclosed him in a tightening circle, like a noose. Quick, supple and predatory.

"Mat!" Thom cried, struggling to hold the unconscious Moiraine while reaching for one of his knives.

Mat held up a hand toward Thom and Noal. "This must be done," he said, taking a few steps away from his friends. The Eelfi

Noal raised his sword.

"No!" Mat yelled. "Don't break this agreement. If you do, we all will die here!"

The Eelfi

"Do it, burn you," Mat growled. "But know this is the last you'll get of me. I'll escape your tower, and I'll find a way to free my mind from you forever. You won't have me. Matrim Cauthon is not your bloody puppet."