Shifting a small portion of the Air holding him, she forced it between his jaws for a gag. His brows lowered in dark anger, gone in a flash, but she did not care. She had him secure now. At least. . . . He had not attempted to struggle at all, but that could be because he had known from the first that she would only snare him. It could. But how hard had he tried to break through her shield? That push, not exactly slow in building but certainly not fast. Almost like a man stretching muscles long unused, pushing at something not with the intent of moving it but just from the need to feel those muscles again. The thought turned her belly to ice.
Infuriatingly, Logain’s eyes crinkled in amusement, almost as though he knew everything that had passed through her head. He sat there with his mouth gaping foolishly, bound and shielded, and he was the one at his ease. How could she have been such a fool? She was not fit to be Aes Sedai, not if her block crumbled this instant. She was not fit to be let out alone. They ought to tell Birgitte to make sure she did not fall on her face in the dust trying to cross the street.
It was not intentional, but berating herself kept her anger on a slow simmer until the door burst open. It was not Elayne.
Sheriam followed Romanda in, with Myrelle and Morvrin and Takima close behind, then Lelaine and Janya, Delana and Bharatine and Beonin, more, crowding in until they filled the room. Nynaeve could see others through the door that had no room to close. Those inside peered at her, and her weaving, so intently that she swallowed hard and all her fine anger collapsed. And of course, so did her shield and the bonds holding Logain.
Before Nynaeve could ask somebody to shield him again, Nisao planted herself in front of her. Short as Nisao was, she managed to loom. “Now what is all this nonsense about you Healing him?”
“Is that what she says she did?” Logain actually managed to sound surprised.
Varilin crowded in beside Nisao. The slender red-haired Gray loomed by virtue of being as tall as Logain. “I feared this as soon as everyone began petting her over her discoveries. Once they ran out, the petting stopped, and she was sure to make some wild claim to get it back.”
“It was letting her moon over Siuan and Leane,” Romanda said firmly. “And this fellow. She should have been told there are things that cannot be Healed, and there’s an end to it!”
“But I did!” Nynaeve protested. “I did! Please shield him. Please, you must!” The Aes Sedai in front of her turned to look at Logain, opening just enough space for her to see him too. He met all the stares with a bland face. He even shrugged!
“I think the least we can do is shield him until we are absolutely certain,” Sheriam suggested. Romanda nodded, and a shield sprang into being strong enough to hold a giant as the glow of saidar surrounded nearly every woman in the room. Romanda restored a little order by briskly naming six to maintain a lesser but adequate shield.
Myrelle’s hand closed around Nynaeve’s arm. “If you will forgive us, Romanda, we need to talk to Nynaeve alone.”
Sheriam’s hand closed on the other arm. “Best if we don’t leave it too long.”
Romanda nodded absently. She was frowning at Logain. Most of the Aes Sedai were; nobody was leaving.
Sheriam and Myrelle pulled Nynaeve to her feet and propelled her toward the door.
“What are you doing?” she demanded breathlessly. “Where are you taking me?” Outside they jostled through the throng of Aes Sedai, many of whom peered at her sharply, even accusingly. They pushed right by Elayne, who grimaced apologetically. Nynaeve looked over her shoulder as the two Aes Sedai hustled her along so quickly she kept stumbling. Not that she expected Elayne to help her, but it might be the last time she saw her. Beonin was saying something to Elayne, who darted away though the crowd. “What are you going to do to me?” Nynaeve moaned.
“We could keep you scrubbing pots for the rest of your natural life,” Sheriam said conversationally.
Myrelle nodded. “You could work in the kitchens all day.”
“We could have you switched every day instead.”
“Peel your hide off in strips.”
“Nail you into a barrel and feed you through the bunghole in the end.”
“Only mush, though. Stale mush.”
Nynaeve’s knees sagged. “It was an accident! I swear! I didn’t mean to!”
Sheriam gave her a hard shake without slowing a step. “Don’t be a fool, child. You may just have done the impossible.”
“You believe me? You believe me! Why didn’t you say something when Nisao and Varilin and—Why didn’t you say something?”
“I said ‘may,’ child.” Sheriam’s voice was depressingly neutral.
“Another possibility,” Myrelle said, “is that your brain has swollen from strain.” Her lidded eyes regarded Nynaeve. “You would be surprised at the number of Accepted, and even novices, who claim they’ve rediscovered some lost Talent, or found a new. When I was a novice, an Accepted named Echiko was so convinced she knew how to fly, she leaped from the top of the Tower.”
Head spinning, Nynaeve looked from one woman to the other. Did they believe her or not? Did they really think her mind had bent? What under the Light are they going to do to me? She tried to find words to convince them—she was not lying, not crazy; she had Healed Logain—but her mouth was still working soundlessly when they hurried her into the Little Tower.
Not until they entered what had been a private dining room, a long chamber where now a narrow table stood with chairs behind it near one wall, did Nynaeve realize they had gained a train of followers. More than a dozen Aes Sedai entered on their heels, Nisao folding her arms tightly beneath her breasts, and Dagdara with her chin thrust forward as though meaning to walk through a wall, Shanelle and Therva and. . . . All Yellow Ajah, save Sheriam and Myrelle. That table suggested a magistrate’s chamber; that line of grim faces spoke of a trial. Nynaeve swallowed hard.
Sheriam and Myrelle left her standing and walked over to the table to confer quietly, their backs to her. When they turned again, their faces were unreadable.
“You claim that you Healed Logain.” There was a hint of contempt in Sheriam’s voice. “You claim you Healed a gentled man.”
“You must believe me,” Nynaeve protested. “You said you did.” She jumped as something unseen struck her