Egwene avoided looking at the table where the other sheets lay. She did not want to think about them, but she could not avoid it. The list of ter'angreal had etched itself into her mind.

Item. A rod of clear crystal, smooth and perfectly clear, one foot long and one inch in diameter. Use unknown. Last study made by Corianin Nedeal. Item. A figurine of an unclothed woman in alabaster, one hand tall. Use unknown. Last study made by Corianin Nedeal. Item. A disc, apparently of simple iron yet untouched by rust, three inches in diameter, finely engraved on both sides with a tight spiral. Use unknown. Last study made by Corianin Nedeal. Item. Too many items, and more than half the “use unknowns” last studied by Corianin Nedeal. Thirteen of them, to be exact.

Egwene shivered. It's getting so I do not even like to think of that number.

The knowns on the list were fewer, not all of any apparent real use, but hardly more comforting, as she saw it. A wooden carving of a hedgehog, no bigger than the last joint of a man's thumb. Such a simple thing, and surely harmless. Any woman who tried to channel through it went to sleep. Half a day of peaceful, dreamless sleep, but it was too close not to make her skin crawl. Three more had to do with sleep in some way. It was almost a relief to read of a fluted rod of black stone, a full pace in length, that produced balefire, with the notation DANGEROUS AND ALMOST IMPOSSIBLE TO CONTROL writ so strong in Verin's hand that it tore the paper in two places. Egwene still had no idea what balefire was, but though it surely sounded dangerous if anything ever did, it just as surely had nothing to do Corianin Nedeal or dreams.

Nynaeve carried the smoothedout pages to the table and set them down. She hesitated before spreading the others out and running her finger down one page, then the next. “Here's one Mat would enjoy,” she said in a voice much too light and airy. “Item. A carved cluster of six spotted dice, joined at the corners, less than two inches across. Use unknown, save that channeling through it seems to suspend chance in some way, or twist it.” She began to read aloud.“ 'Tossed coins presented the same face every time, and in one test landed balanced on edge one hundred times in a row. One thousand tosses of the dice produced five crowns one thousand times.' ” She gave a forced laugh. “Mat would love that.”

Egwene sighed and got to her feet, walked stiffly to the fireplace. Elayne scrambled up, watching as silently as Nynaeve. Pushing her sleeve as far up her arm as it would go, Egwene reached carefully up the chimney. Her fingers touched wool on the smoke shelf, and she pulled out a wadded, singed stocking with a hard lump in the toe. She brushed a smear of soot from her arm, then took the stocking to the table and shook it out. The twisted ring of striped, flecked stone spun across the tabletop and fell flat atop a page of the ter'angreal list. For a few moments they just stared at it.

“Perhaps,” Nynaeve said finally, “Verin simply missed the fact that so many of them were last studied by Corianin.” She did not sound as if she really believed it.

Elayne nodded, but doubtfully. “I saw her walking in the rain once, soaking wet, and took a cloak to her. She was so wrapped up in whatever she was thinking, I do not believe she knew it was raining until I put the cloak around her shoulders. She could have missed it.”

“Maybe,” Egwene said. “If she did not, she had to know I'd notice as soon as I read the list. I do not know. Sometimes I think Verin notices more than she lets on. I just do not know.”

“So there's Verin to suspect,” Elayne sighed. “If she is Black Ajah, then they know exactly what we are doing. And Alanna.” She gave Egwene an uncertain, sidelong look.

Egwene had told them everything. Except what happened inside the ter'angreal during her testing; she could not bring herself to talk about that, any more than Nynaeve or Elayne could tell of their testings. Everything that happened in the testing chamber, what Sheriam had said about the terrible weakness conferred by the ability to channel, every word Verin had said, whether it seemed important or not. The one part they had had trouble accepting was Alanna; Aes Sedai just did not do things like that. No one in her right mind did anything like that, but Aes Sedai least of all.

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Egwene glowered at them, almost hearing them say it. “Aes Sedai are not supposed to lie, either, but Verin and the Mother seem awfully close with what they tell us. They are not supposed to be Black Ajah.”

“I like Alanna.” Nynaeve tugged her braid, then shrugged. “Oh, very well. Perha— That is, she did behave oddly.”

“Thank you,” Egwene said, and Nynaeve gave her an acknowledging nod as if she had heard no sarcasm.

“In any case, the Amyrlin knows of it, and she can keep an eye on Alanna far more easily than we can.”

“What about Elaida and Sheriam?” Egwene asked.

“I have never been able to like Elaida,” Elayne said, “but I cannot truly believe she is Black Ajah. And Sheriam? It's impossible.”

Nynaeve snorted. “It should be impossible for any of them. When we do find them, there is nothing says they'll all be women we do not like. But I don't mean to put suspicion — not this kind of suspicion! — on any woman. We need more to go on than that they might have seen something they shouldn't.” Egwene nodded agreement as quickly as Elayne, and Nynaeve went on: “We will tell the Amyrlin that much, and put no more weight to it than it deserves. If she ever looks in on us as she said she would. If you are with us when she comes, Elayne, remember she does not know about you.”

“I am not likely to forget it,” Elayne said fervently. “But we should have some other way to get word to her. My mother would have planned it better.”

“Not if she could not trust her messengers,” Nynaeve said. “We will wait. Unless you two think one of us should have a talk with Verin? No one would think that remarkable.”

Elayne hesitated, then gave her head a small shake. Egwene was quicker and more vigorous with hers; slip of the mind or not, Verin had left out too much to be trusted.

“Good.” Nynaeve sounded more than satisfied. “I am just as pleased we cannot talk to the Amyrlin when we choose. This way we make our own decisions, act when and as we decide, without her directing our every step.” Her hand ran down the pages listing stolen ter'angreal as if she were reading it again, then closed on the striped stone ring. “And the first decision concerns this. It's the first thing we have seen that has any real connection to Liandrin and the others.” She frowned at the ring, then took a deep breath. “I am going to sle




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