Rand al'Thor, also known as the Dragon Reborn, the Coramoor, and the
Car'a'carn, grimaced as he walked down the crowded streets. There is not
enough space, and too many people. Why does anyone want to live in this
Light-forsaken city, anyway?
Actually, it could not properly be called a city. It was more like a large village. Shops lined the dusty roads, interspersed with the small dwellings belonging to the poorer inhabitants, and there were only two center squares where huge trees grew.
Beyond the shops were the larger houses and small manors of the rest of the villagers, who had more money. There were not many of them.
Like Emond's Field, Rand thought, and was suddenly hit by a powerful wave of homesickness. In his mind, he pictured the neat rows of houses, the Winespring Inn, the farm on which he had grown up. I wish I had come with Perrin when he went back. I miss it so much.
I wish I had never left it.
He sensed a vague interest from Lews Therin, who seemed to be studying the images Rand had called up. The man didn't seem insane at all. Your home?
Rand caught his breath. Lews Therin was addressing him, a rare occurence. He wasn't sure what it meant. It was probably a sign that he was going mad.
Yes, he thought back cautiously. My home. Emond's Field.
Lews Therin laughed softly. Home. His laughter grew louder. I once called a place home. Pictures flashed briefly in Rand's mind, and he staggered in surprise, stride halting for an instant. A castle, with tall marble columns. An airy entrance hall with sunlight flooding in. Elaborate hangings, beautiful tapestries.
A lovely woman with hair like the sun.
Ilyena, Lews Therin said. He sounded disbelieving. I killed her.
More images came and went. The same castle, which seemed to have been destroyed. Scorch marks marred walls. The walls and floor seemed to have melted and run. Dead bodies lay everywhere.
The golden haired woman lying lifeless on the floor.
Rand stumbled to a wall and braced himself against it. This had never happened before, not this strongly. You killed them when you went mad, he told Lews Therin, struggling to force the pictures away. They vanished abruptly. They named you Kinslayer, for that.
But it appeared that Lews Therin had lost his moment of temporary sanity. Ilyena, he wept. Ilyena! Voice and presence fled.
Rand shivered uncontrollably, still holding on to the wall. I am going mad. A man dead for Ages lives in my head.
Forcing his legs straight, he made himself come away from the wall. Firmly, he focused on what he had come to Altono to do.
The day before, he had felt Aviendha experience a moment of excruciating pain through the bond. Whatever it was, it had evidently rendered her unconscious. He had run back to where he felt her to be, but too late. He had felt her location change suddenly and drastically, which could only mean someone had taken her through a gateway.
Rand hadn't even stopped to speak with Elayne or Min, and certainly not the Maidens. Right where he was, he had opened a gateway to approximately where she had gone. He had come out in Merandar, a city near Altono. The rest of that day was spent tracking aimlessly through Merandar, only pausing to buy a plain cloak and wrappings for his sword until he had finally followed the bond to Altono.
Rand had spent the night in an inn and risen with the sun to continue looking through Altono.
I think I'm getting close. . . Yes, he definitely was. He could feel Aviendha stronger now, close by. She was still unconscious.
Rand stepped into a dark alley and frowned. He stood before the entrance to an inn. The Gleeman's Secret. The painted sign above the door featured a dark haired gleeman with the traditional patched cloak juggling three red balls with one hand. The other was hidden in his cloak. Rand thought he saw a glint of steel among the folds close to the man's hand.
Hiding a knife. Rand laughed to himself. Looks like Thom.
Something was wrong. Why would the innkeeper want the door to his inn to be in an alley like this? It can't be good for business. Puzzled, he glanced back at the street. None of the crowd even looked toward the alley.
But Aviendha was in that inn. Rand slowly put his hand on the doorknob and swung the door open.
The common room was empty. No taverners sat at the darkly polished tables. No serving maids scurried among the chairs. The innkeeper wasn't even there.
Now Rand knew something was wrong. There was always someone in an inn's common room. Alarmed, he seized saidin. The roiling storm of ice and fire nearly swept him away, and he breathed deeply, reveling in the struggle. Since he had removed the taint on the male half of the True Source, saidin had become more tempting than ever.
Don't become too fond of the feeling, Rand told himself firmly. You could burn yourself out. He started cautiously across the vacant common room, every detail sharper with his newly heightened senses. It smelled faintly musty, as if it had not been aired out in a while. Rand glimpsed a light coating of dust on the tables.
Aviendha was upstairs. Rand felt her though the bond. He stepped cautiously up the staircase, peering into the dimness with his saidin- enhanced vision. Still, he could see nothing.
He could hear his boots on the wooden steps. The soft sound seemed louder than a shout in the empty inn. Step. Step. Step. He reached the second floor and cautiously entered a carpeted hall.
Doors lined the walls, all closed. No light shone under any of them . . . except one.
Aviendha was in there. Rand stepped slowly towards it and hesitated. What could be in there with her? He surprised himself by considering going back for Elayne, or Nynaeve. Then maybe he would stand a chance.
But what could happen to Aviendha while I'm gone? For a moment he just stood there, undecided, poised either to weave a gateway back to the Palace or fling open the door.
Ilyena! Lews Therin was back.
Go away! Rand ordered the presence. Lews Therin vanished - but not before the image of the dead sunhaired woman flashed in his mind again. Ilyena!
Rand growled under his breath. Fool, you do not base your decision on a madman's thoughts! It was a halfhearted thought.
He kicked the door open, saidin at the ready. But he nearly lost it at what he saw.
Aviendha lay still on a bed across the room, bound with Air made of saidin. Even with his heightened vision, he could not see her chest rise and fall.
In two steps, he was by her side. He took her into his arms, wishing desperately that he knew how to Heal; he might kill her trying. Her skin was cold and pale, and her head lolled on his shoulder. Light, Aviendha! he mouthed silently. He noticed distantly that his hands were trembling as they felt at her throat for a pulse. Aviendha!
Saidin! the working part of his brain screamed at him. Or maybe it was Lews Therin. She is trapped with saidin!
Rand's head snapped up as a shield of Spirit slammed between him and saidin.
He instinctively hurled his strength against the invisible barrier. No effect. Light-blinded fool! It was a trap! Before he could throw himself at the shield again, the door to the back room swung open and a girl stepped in.
His skin rose in goosebumps; she was holding saidar. She was a short woman, with silvery hair, wearing a pure white dress belted in wide silver.
Rand let go of Aviendha with an effort and slowly stood to face the newcomer, who was wearing an amused smile. "What have you done to her?" he demanded with cold fury. Light, if she is dead -
"The wench?" The silvery-haired girl's smile grew. "She is not dead, Lews Therin, if that is what you are asking."
Rand forced himself to think clearly. Only one of the Forsaken would call me that. He looked closely at the short woman before him. I have never seen her before, Lews Therin muttered. How can she be so strong in the Power as to hold a shield on me?
Lanfear, wearing that dress and that condescending smile, surrounded by cool serenity. Fool man! Lanfear is dead! No, it had to be -
"What do you want with me?" Rand gathered his strength. Now or never . . .
The silvery-haired woman seemed to think for a moment, tapping her finger on her lips, and it was then that Rand chose to strike. He shoved suddenly against the shield, which gave way slowly, and then faster and faster -
Lanfear staggered back, eyes wide, and opened her mouth as if to call out. Rand pushed harder, desperately. I have to reach saidin before whoever is with her comes -
With a sensation like shattering glass, the shield broke. Saidin rushed into Rand, and even before he had gotten full control of it, he wove a shield of Spirit and slammed it down where he thought the girl's connection to saidar would be.
It was like forcing a carving knife through thick rubber. Rand started to sweat as he struggled to bring the shield down. Lanfear bit her lip -
Sammael, walked out of the back room, grinning. Behind him came the rest of the thirteen Forsaken, all exactly as he had remembered them. As Lews Therin had remembered them. But how could it be!?
Graendal, Semirhage, Demandred, Mesaana, Ishamael, Balthamel, Aginor, Be'lal, Rahvin, Asmodean, and Moghedien.
All of them held the One Power.
Rand's fingers tightened briefly on Aviendha's body as he flailed wildly at the shield between him and saidin. He realized with a sinking feeling that the shield was the strongest he had ever seen, or not seen, and with a snarl, he drew his sword.
Rand leaped at Sammael with Woodsman Swings His Ax, assuming the Void. They've killed Aviendha! The Forsaken no longer bore the scar that Lews Therin had given him, having a new face, but Rand gave him another - the point of the heron-marked sword cut his cheek as he threw himself aside desperately.
Sammael staggered back, hand to his face, and shouted in rage when he took his fingers away and saw blood. He angrily lashed out with the Power and Rand was knocked backwards by a club of Air.
Still in the Void, he felt but didn't feel the impact. Regaining his balance in a split second, he moved forward, sword at the ready, and swung with River Undercuts the Bank, calculated to slice five of the nearest Forsaken in two. It would have hit, but Ishamael wove a trap of Air, stopped the strike, and pulled the sword from his hands.
The heron-marked sword flew through the air, and Ishamael caught it and studied it with interest, turning it over in his hands. "Lews Therin has again acquired a blademaster's sword," he said. "Fitting."
The Void vanished with Rand's concentration. Aviendha gave me that sword . . . As he tried to find the cool emptiness again, battering uselessly at the shield of Spirit, saidar formed a fist of Air and slammed him to the floor. More blows of saidar started to fall upon him, forcing him to the floor, but Sammael said "Stop!"
One more punch landed, presumably from Lanfear, whose mouth was twisted in contempt. Then blows stopped. Rand gave a silent prayer of thanks. They're going to kill me, right here and now . . . I have to get my sword back!
"Why?" asked Graendal. Her face also portrayed distaste. "He does deserve it."
"I do not argue on that point," Sammael answered, looking as if he wished he did. "But I think Semirhage will agree with me when I say we should do it this way." He walked over to Rand, who was still trying to catch his breath, and kicked him in the stomach. Rand doubled up in pain. Oh, Light, it hurts. Aviendha!
He tried to get up again, but Rahvin kicked him. The Forsaken looked at Sammael with a grin. "You're right, friend, it IS more satisfying this way."
Rand redoubled his efforts to reach saidin. I'm a dead man . . . It was no use. All the female Forsaken had linked to weave the shield. There were five soft points on it; they had not tied it off.
Ishamael, Demandred, and Asmodean joined Rahvin and Sammael, and they all started beating Rand up without the aid of saidin, kicking him with booted feet where he lay on the floor.
He clenched his teeth - I won't make a sound! - and curled up into a ball, trying to protect himself from the blows that just kept coming. It hurt more than anything he had ever experienced, even more than the beatings of Air he had received at the hands of the Red Ajah. My bones must be breaking. He knew his heart was breaking. Aviendha was dead. She must be dead, and it was his fault. I should have made her go somewhere safe . . .
The five Forsaken kept kicking him, taunting him, for a long time, venting their anger and frustration at him with every hit. He closed his eyes as his body absorbed the abuse.
Finally, the beating stopped, and Rand lay on the floor, bruised, battered, and winded. The old half-healed scar had broken open, flooding his side with pain. He couldn't move, much less get up.
But he didn't have a choice. Ishamael and Sammael hauled him to his feet and held him up as Lanfear walked came forward. Dizzy with pain, he hung in their grip, unable even to keep his head up. Have to . . . them . . . in the eye . . .His thoughts came in disjointed sequences. His head felt too heavy to lift, and every time he moved it, a sharp pain shot through his temples.
Lanfear stopped right in front of him, and regarded him thoughtfully. "I like you like this," she said finally. "You were so arrogant the last time I saw you. And now," she continued, putting a finger under his chin and raising his head - he winced - "your fate will be decided by me."
Rand called upon every ounce of strength he had left and threw it at the shield, praying desperately. Please, Light -
Lanfear's mouth quirked in an amused smile. "You don't have a chance, Lews Therin," she chided. "When will you learn you are mine now?"
"I'd rather have died at Chambel Pass than live a moment with you, Mierin!" he spat at her, jerking his chin away. Immediately he wished the words back in his mouth. Lews Therin had spoken through him, again - he had never heard of Chambel Pass, much less been there. She is not Mierin, she's Lanfear - one of the Forsaken! Her hair was a silvery color now, her eyes different as well, but her knew who she was.
Lanfear had taken a step back and was looking at Rand with an unreadable expression. Suddenly she drew her hand back and slapped him so hard that his head snapped sideways. His cheek burned, and his head rung.
"Don't speak to me that way, Lews Therin," she said softly. "You'll learn to love me again, more than you ever loved that idiot Ilyena. I'll make sure of that before these 'men' decide to kill you." She smiled at Rahvin and Sammael, and then looked back at Rand. She raised her hand again, and he almost cringed, expecting another slap. Instead, Lanfear drew her fingernail along his cheek, and down to trace around his jawbone, making him wince as it touched his bruises. "I'll make sure."
Rand jerked his head away again, and Sammael's hands tightened painfully on his arm. "What did you do to her, Lanfear?" Rand asked quietly, ignoring the sudden pressure. He carefully avoided looking at the still figure on the bed.
Lanfear only smiled in reply. She turned and started away.
Something broke in Rand. "What did you do to her?!" he yelled, struggling against the two Forsaken who held him, trying in vain to reach Lanfear. She never looked back. "If she's dead, I swear I'll kill you!"
Rahvin punched him in the stomach and he went limp again, taking rasping breaths. Sammael and Ishamael half dragged, half carried him to the back room where the other Forsaken had woven a gateway.
He peered through the oval hanging a few inches off the ground. Inside, he could see marble columns and tapestries of silk and velvet. Graceful-looking people dressed in the same materials lounged and danced in the new area.
Rahvin appeared behind him, carrying Aviendha's unmoving form. Rand almost started toward her again, but stopped himself. In good time . . .
The five women stepped through the gateway first, then seven more Forsaken, and then Rahvin with his precious burden.
Ilyena, Lews Therin was sobbing again.
Aviendha, Rand cried inside his head. Aviendha, I'll always love you . . .
The Forsaken shoved him through the gateway and it turned sideways and closed.
The room in The Gleeman's Secret was empty.
Actually, it could not properly be called a city. It was more like a large village. Shops lined the dusty roads, interspersed with the small dwellings belonging to the poorer inhabitants, and there were only two center squares where huge trees grew.
Beyond the shops were the larger houses and small manors of the rest of the villagers, who had more money. There were not many of them.
Like Emond's Field, Rand thought, and was suddenly hit by a powerful wave of homesickness. In his mind, he pictured the neat rows of houses, the Winespring Inn, the farm on which he had grown up. I wish I had come with Perrin when he went back. I miss it so much.
I wish I had never left it.
He sensed a vague interest from Lews Therin, who seemed to be studying the images Rand had called up. The man didn't seem insane at all. Your home?
Rand caught his breath. Lews Therin was addressing him, a rare occurence. He wasn't sure what it meant. It was probably a sign that he was going mad.
Yes, he thought back cautiously. My home. Emond's Field.
Lews Therin laughed softly. Home. His laughter grew louder. I once called a place home. Pictures flashed briefly in Rand's mind, and he staggered in surprise, stride halting for an instant. A castle, with tall marble columns. An airy entrance hall with sunlight flooding in. Elaborate hangings, beautiful tapestries.
A lovely woman with hair like the sun.
Ilyena, Lews Therin said. He sounded disbelieving. I killed her.
More images came and went. The same castle, which seemed to have been destroyed. Scorch marks marred walls. The walls and floor seemed to have melted and run. Dead bodies lay everywhere.
The golden haired woman lying lifeless on the floor.
Rand stumbled to a wall and braced himself against it. This had never happened before, not this strongly. You killed them when you went mad, he told Lews Therin, struggling to force the pictures away. They vanished abruptly. They named you Kinslayer, for that.
But it appeared that Lews Therin had lost his moment of temporary sanity. Ilyena, he wept. Ilyena! Voice and presence fled.
Rand shivered uncontrollably, still holding on to the wall. I am going mad. A man dead for Ages lives in my head.
Forcing his legs straight, he made himself come away from the wall. Firmly, he focused on what he had come to Altono to do.
The day before, he had felt Aviendha experience a moment of excruciating pain through the bond. Whatever it was, it had evidently rendered her unconscious. He had run back to where he felt her to be, but too late. He had felt her location change suddenly and drastically, which could only mean someone had taken her through a gateway.
Rand hadn't even stopped to speak with Elayne or Min, and certainly not the Maidens. Right where he was, he had opened a gateway to approximately where she had gone. He had come out in Merandar, a city near Altono. The rest of that day was spent tracking aimlessly through Merandar, only pausing to buy a plain cloak and wrappings for his sword until he had finally followed the bond to Altono.
Rand had spent the night in an inn and risen with the sun to continue looking through Altono.
I think I'm getting close. . . Yes, he definitely was. He could feel Aviendha stronger now, close by. She was still unconscious.
Rand stepped into a dark alley and frowned. He stood before the entrance to an inn. The Gleeman's Secret. The painted sign above the door featured a dark haired gleeman with the traditional patched cloak juggling three red balls with one hand. The other was hidden in his cloak. Rand thought he saw a glint of steel among the folds close to the man's hand.
Hiding a knife. Rand laughed to himself. Looks like Thom.
Something was wrong. Why would the innkeeper want the door to his inn to be in an alley like this? It can't be good for business. Puzzled, he glanced back at the street. None of the crowd even looked toward the alley.
But Aviendha was in that inn. Rand slowly put his hand on the doorknob and swung the door open.
The common room was empty. No taverners sat at the darkly polished tables. No serving maids scurried among the chairs. The innkeeper wasn't even there.
Now Rand knew something was wrong. There was always someone in an inn's common room. Alarmed, he seized saidin. The roiling storm of ice and fire nearly swept him away, and he breathed deeply, reveling in the struggle. Since he had removed the taint on the male half of the True Source, saidin had become more tempting than ever.
Don't become too fond of the feeling, Rand told himself firmly. You could burn yourself out. He started cautiously across the vacant common room, every detail sharper with his newly heightened senses. It smelled faintly musty, as if it had not been aired out in a while. Rand glimpsed a light coating of dust on the tables.
Aviendha was upstairs. Rand felt her though the bond. He stepped cautiously up the staircase, peering into the dimness with his saidin- enhanced vision. Still, he could see nothing.
He could hear his boots on the wooden steps. The soft sound seemed louder than a shout in the empty inn. Step. Step. Step. He reached the second floor and cautiously entered a carpeted hall.
Doors lined the walls, all closed. No light shone under any of them . . . except one.
Aviendha was in there. Rand stepped slowly towards it and hesitated. What could be in there with her? He surprised himself by considering going back for Elayne, or Nynaeve. Then maybe he would stand a chance.
But what could happen to Aviendha while I'm gone? For a moment he just stood there, undecided, poised either to weave a gateway back to the Palace or fling open the door.
Ilyena! Lews Therin was back.
Go away! Rand ordered the presence. Lews Therin vanished - but not before the image of the dead sunhaired woman flashed in his mind again. Ilyena!
Rand growled under his breath. Fool, you do not base your decision on a madman's thoughts! It was a halfhearted thought.
He kicked the door open, saidin at the ready. But he nearly lost it at what he saw.
Aviendha lay still on a bed across the room, bound with Air made of saidin. Even with his heightened vision, he could not see her chest rise and fall.
In two steps, he was by her side. He took her into his arms, wishing desperately that he knew how to Heal; he might kill her trying. Her skin was cold and pale, and her head lolled on his shoulder. Light, Aviendha! he mouthed silently. He noticed distantly that his hands were trembling as they felt at her throat for a pulse. Aviendha!
Saidin! the working part of his brain screamed at him. Or maybe it was Lews Therin. She is trapped with saidin!
Rand's head snapped up as a shield of Spirit slammed between him and saidin.
He instinctively hurled his strength against the invisible barrier. No effect. Light-blinded fool! It was a trap! Before he could throw himself at the shield again, the door to the back room swung open and a girl stepped in.
His skin rose in goosebumps; she was holding saidar. She was a short woman, with silvery hair, wearing a pure white dress belted in wide silver.
Rand let go of Aviendha with an effort and slowly stood to face the newcomer, who was wearing an amused smile. "What have you done to her?" he demanded with cold fury. Light, if she is dead -
"The wench?" The silvery-haired girl's smile grew. "She is not dead, Lews Therin, if that is what you are asking."
Rand forced himself to think clearly. Only one of the Forsaken would call me that. He looked closely at the short woman before him. I have never seen her before, Lews Therin muttered. How can she be so strong in the Power as to hold a shield on me?
Lanfear, wearing that dress and that condescending smile, surrounded by cool serenity. Fool man! Lanfear is dead! No, it had to be -
"What do you want with me?" Rand gathered his strength. Now or never . . .
The silvery-haired woman seemed to think for a moment, tapping her finger on her lips, and it was then that Rand chose to strike. He shoved suddenly against the shield, which gave way slowly, and then faster and faster -
Lanfear staggered back, eyes wide, and opened her mouth as if to call out. Rand pushed harder, desperately. I have to reach saidin before whoever is with her comes -
With a sensation like shattering glass, the shield broke. Saidin rushed into Rand, and even before he had gotten full control of it, he wove a shield of Spirit and slammed it down where he thought the girl's connection to saidar would be.
It was like forcing a carving knife through thick rubber. Rand started to sweat as he struggled to bring the shield down. Lanfear bit her lip -
Sammael, walked out of the back room, grinning. Behind him came the rest of the thirteen Forsaken, all exactly as he had remembered them. As Lews Therin had remembered them. But how could it be!?
Graendal, Semirhage, Demandred, Mesaana, Ishamael, Balthamel, Aginor, Be'lal, Rahvin, Asmodean, and Moghedien.
All of them held the One Power.
Rand's fingers tightened briefly on Aviendha's body as he flailed wildly at the shield between him and saidin. He realized with a sinking feeling that the shield was the strongest he had ever seen, or not seen, and with a snarl, he drew his sword.
Rand leaped at Sammael with Woodsman Swings His Ax, assuming the Void. They've killed Aviendha! The Forsaken no longer bore the scar that Lews Therin had given him, having a new face, but Rand gave him another - the point of the heron-marked sword cut his cheek as he threw himself aside desperately.
Sammael staggered back, hand to his face, and shouted in rage when he took his fingers away and saw blood. He angrily lashed out with the Power and Rand was knocked backwards by a club of Air.
Still in the Void, he felt but didn't feel the impact. Regaining his balance in a split second, he moved forward, sword at the ready, and swung with River Undercuts the Bank, calculated to slice five of the nearest Forsaken in two. It would have hit, but Ishamael wove a trap of Air, stopped the strike, and pulled the sword from his hands.
The heron-marked sword flew through the air, and Ishamael caught it and studied it with interest, turning it over in his hands. "Lews Therin has again acquired a blademaster's sword," he said. "Fitting."
The Void vanished with Rand's concentration. Aviendha gave me that sword . . . As he tried to find the cool emptiness again, battering uselessly at the shield of Spirit, saidar formed a fist of Air and slammed him to the floor. More blows of saidar started to fall upon him, forcing him to the floor, but Sammael said "Stop!"
One more punch landed, presumably from Lanfear, whose mouth was twisted in contempt. Then blows stopped. Rand gave a silent prayer of thanks. They're going to kill me, right here and now . . . I have to get my sword back!
"Why?" asked Graendal. Her face also portrayed distaste. "He does deserve it."
"I do not argue on that point," Sammael answered, looking as if he wished he did. "But I think Semirhage will agree with me when I say we should do it this way." He walked over to Rand, who was still trying to catch his breath, and kicked him in the stomach. Rand doubled up in pain. Oh, Light, it hurts. Aviendha!
He tried to get up again, but Rahvin kicked him. The Forsaken looked at Sammael with a grin. "You're right, friend, it IS more satisfying this way."
Rand redoubled his efforts to reach saidin. I'm a dead man . . . It was no use. All the female Forsaken had linked to weave the shield. There were five soft points on it; they had not tied it off.
Ishamael, Demandred, and Asmodean joined Rahvin and Sammael, and they all started beating Rand up without the aid of saidin, kicking him with booted feet where he lay on the floor.
He clenched his teeth - I won't make a sound! - and curled up into a ball, trying to protect himself from the blows that just kept coming. It hurt more than anything he had ever experienced, even more than the beatings of Air he had received at the hands of the Red Ajah. My bones must be breaking. He knew his heart was breaking. Aviendha was dead. She must be dead, and it was his fault. I should have made her go somewhere safe . . .
The five Forsaken kept kicking him, taunting him, for a long time, venting their anger and frustration at him with every hit. He closed his eyes as his body absorbed the abuse.
Finally, the beating stopped, and Rand lay on the floor, bruised, battered, and winded. The old half-healed scar had broken open, flooding his side with pain. He couldn't move, much less get up.
But he didn't have a choice. Ishamael and Sammael hauled him to his feet and held him up as Lanfear walked came forward. Dizzy with pain, he hung in their grip, unable even to keep his head up. Have to . . . them . . . in the eye . . .His thoughts came in disjointed sequences. His head felt too heavy to lift, and every time he moved it, a sharp pain shot through his temples.
Lanfear stopped right in front of him, and regarded him thoughtfully. "I like you like this," she said finally. "You were so arrogant the last time I saw you. And now," she continued, putting a finger under his chin and raising his head - he winced - "your fate will be decided by me."
Rand called upon every ounce of strength he had left and threw it at the shield, praying desperately. Please, Light -
Lanfear's mouth quirked in an amused smile. "You don't have a chance, Lews Therin," she chided. "When will you learn you are mine now?"
"I'd rather have died at Chambel Pass than live a moment with you, Mierin!" he spat at her, jerking his chin away. Immediately he wished the words back in his mouth. Lews Therin had spoken through him, again - he had never heard of Chambel Pass, much less been there. She is not Mierin, she's Lanfear - one of the Forsaken! Her hair was a silvery color now, her eyes different as well, but her knew who she was.
Lanfear had taken a step back and was looking at Rand with an unreadable expression. Suddenly she drew her hand back and slapped him so hard that his head snapped sideways. His cheek burned, and his head rung.
"Don't speak to me that way, Lews Therin," she said softly. "You'll learn to love me again, more than you ever loved that idiot Ilyena. I'll make sure of that before these 'men' decide to kill you." She smiled at Rahvin and Sammael, and then looked back at Rand. She raised her hand again, and he almost cringed, expecting another slap. Instead, Lanfear drew her fingernail along his cheek, and down to trace around his jawbone, making him wince as it touched his bruises. "I'll make sure."
Rand jerked his head away again, and Sammael's hands tightened painfully on his arm. "What did you do to her, Lanfear?" Rand asked quietly, ignoring the sudden pressure. He carefully avoided looking at the still figure on the bed.
Lanfear only smiled in reply. She turned and started away.
Something broke in Rand. "What did you do to her?!" he yelled, struggling against the two Forsaken who held him, trying in vain to reach Lanfear. She never looked back. "If she's dead, I swear I'll kill you!"
Rahvin punched him in the stomach and he went limp again, taking rasping breaths. Sammael and Ishamael half dragged, half carried him to the back room where the other Forsaken had woven a gateway.
He peered through the oval hanging a few inches off the ground. Inside, he could see marble columns and tapestries of silk and velvet. Graceful-looking people dressed in the same materials lounged and danced in the new area.
Rahvin appeared behind him, carrying Aviendha's unmoving form. Rand almost started toward her again, but stopped himself. In good time . . .
The five women stepped through the gateway first, then seven more Forsaken, and then Rahvin with his precious burden.
Ilyena, Lews Therin was sobbing again.
Aviendha, Rand cried inside his head. Aviendha, I'll always love you . . .
The Forsaken shoved him through the gateway and it turned sideways and closed.
The room in The Gleeman's Secret was empty.