Young Bull, Sparks sent. I am free. The wrongness is gone.
Go, Perrin sent. I’ll take this and get rid of it. Each of you, go a different direction and howl. Confuse Slayer.
The wolves responded. A part of Perrin, the hunter inside of him, was frustrated at not having been able to defeat Slayer directly. But this was more important.
He tried to shift to someplace distant, but it didn’t work. It appeared that even though he was holding the ter’angreal, he was still bound by the dome’s rules.
So, instead, he shifted as far as he could. Neald had said it was about four leagues from their camp to the perimeter, so Perrin shifted that far to the north, then did so again, and again. The enormous dome moved with him, its center always appearing directly over his head.
He would take the spike someplace safe, someplace where Slayer couldn’t find it.
Chapter 36
An Invitation
Egwene appeared in Tel’aran’rhiod wearing a pure white gown sewn with golden thread at the seams and in the embroidery, tiny bits of obsidian—polished but unshaped—sewn in gold along the trim of the bodice. A terribly impractical dress to own, but that didn’t matter here.
She was in her chambers, where she’d wanted to appear. She sent herself to the hallway outside the Yellow Ajah’s quarters. Nynaeve was there, arms folded, her dress a far more sensible tan and brown.
“I want you to be very careful,” Egwene said. “You’re the only one here who has faced one of the Forsaken directly, and you also have more experience with Tel’aran’rhiod than the others. If Mesaana arrives, you are to lead the attack.”
“I think I can manage that,” Nynaeve said, the corners of her mouth rising. Yes, she could manage it. Holding Nynaeve back from attacking, that would have been the difficult task.
Egwene nodded, and Nynaeve vanished. She’d remain hidden near the Hall of the Tower, watching for Mesaana or Black sisters coming to spy on the decoy meeting happening there. Egwene sent herself to another place in the city, a hall where the true meeting would take place between herself, the Wise Ones and the Windfinders.
Tar Valon had several meeting halls used for musical performances or for gatherings. This one, known as the Musician’s Way, was perfect for her needs. It was precisely decorated with leatherleaf wood paneling carved to look like a forest of trees lining the walls. The chairs were of a matching wood, sung by Ogier, each one a thing of beauty. They were arranged in the round, facing a central podium. The domed ceiling was inset with marble carved to look like stars in the sky. The ornamentation was remarkable; beautiful without being gaudy.
The Wise Ones had already arrived—Amys, Bair and Melaine, whose belly was great with the later stages of pregnancy. This amphitheater had a raised platform along one side where the Wise Ones could sit comfortably on the floor, yet those seated in the chairs would not look down at them.
Leane, Yukiri and Seaine sat in chairs facing the Wise Ones, each wearing one of Elayne’s copied dream ter’angreal, looking shadowy and insubstantial. Elayne was supposed to be there, too, but she had warned she might have trouble channeling enough to enter Tel’aran’rhiod.
The Aes Sedai and Wise Ones inspected one another with a nearly palpable air of hostility. The Aes Sedai considered the Wise Ones to be poorly trained wilders; the Wise Ones, in turn, thought the Aes Sedai full of themselves.
As Egwene arrived, a group of women with dark skin and black hair appeared in the very center of the room. The Windfinders glanced about suspiciously. Siuan had said, from her time teaching them, that the Sea Folk had legends about Tel’aran’rhiod and its dangers. That hadn’t stopped the Windfinders from learning everything they could about the World of Dreams the moment they discovered that it was real.
At the head of the Windfinders was a tall, slender woman with narrow eyes and a long neck, numerous medallions on the fine chain connecting her nose to her left ear. That would be Shielyn, one of those Nynaeve had told Egwene about. The three other Windfinders included a dignified woman with white locks of hair woven among her black. That would be Renaile, according to the letters they’d sent and Nynaeve’s instruction. Egwene had been led to believe she’d be foremost among them, but she seemed subservient to the others. Had she lost her place as Windfinder to the Mistress of the Ships?
“Welcome,” Egwene said to them. “Please, sit.”
“We will stand,” Shielyn said. Her voice was tense.
“Who are these ones, Egwene al’Vere?” Amys asked. “Children should not be visiting Tel’aran’rhiod. It is not an abandoned sand-badger’s den to be explored.”
“Children?” Shielyn asked.
“You are children here, wetlander.”
“Amys, please,” Egwene cut in. “I lent them ter’angreal to come here. It was necessary.”
“We could have met outside the World of Dreams,” Bair said. “Choosing the middle of a battlefield might have been safer.”
Indeed, the Windfinders were very unfamiliar with the workings of Tel’aran’rhiod. Their bright clothing periodically changed colors—in fact, as Egwene watched, Renaile’s blouse vanished entirely. Egwene found herself blushing, though Elayne had mentioned that when on the waves, Sea Folk men and women both worked wearing not a stitch above the waist. The blouse was back a moment later. Their jewelry also seemed in almost constant flux.
“There are reasons I have done what I have done, Amys,” Egwene said, striding forward and seating herself. “Shielyn din Sabura Night Waters and her sisters have been told of the dangers of this place, and have accepted responsibility for their own safety.”
“A little like giving a firebrand and a cask of oil to a child,” Melaine muttered, “and claiming you’ve given him responsibility for his own safety.”
“Must we endure this squabbling, Mother?” Yukiri asked.
Egwene took a calming breath. “Please, you are leaders of your separate peoples, women with reputations for great wisdom and acuity. Can we not at least be civil with one another?” Egwene turned to the Sea Folk. “Windfinder Shielyn, you have accepted my invitation. Surely you will not now reject my hospitality by standing through the entire meeting?”
The woman hesitated. She had a proud air to her; recent interaction between the Aes Sedai and the Sea Folk had made her bold. Egwene shoved down a stab of anger; she did not like the details of the bargain regarding the Bowl of Winds. Nynaeve and Elayne should have