She started to open her mouth to argue, to deny it. But it made sense. In fact, it was the only explanation that made sense. He couldn't possibly have saved himself, not in his condition. And that feeling she'd had right before she passed out… Yes, it made sense, there was no denying it. But how had she done it? What had she done, exactly? Shaking her head slowly, she looked him in the eyes. His absurdly human eyes. "I've never channeled before in my life. I swear," she added when he raised his eyebrow sceptically. "I don't know what I did or how it happened. I just know I really, really didn't want you to be dead."

He was quiet for a long time, as if considering her words. "Of course you didn't," he finally said. "What would you do without me?" he went on with a sneer. "You will have to be careful. You could have burned yourself out. As it were, you're lucky you didn't get both of us killed."

"You were already dying!" she sputtered indignantly. The nerve of the man! "Without me, you would be dead," she went on in a milder tone. "You might want to remember that, next time you plan on getting yourself burnt to a crisp."

He shrugged, waving a hand dismissively. "That won't happen again. I never make the same mistake twice," he said. "I don't see why I should thank you. You saved me because you know perfectly well I'm the only reason you are still alive."

"You're also the reason why I'm here in the first place," she retorted sourly, "and I still don't know why I'm here."

"Fate, pet. Fate brought you to me, or rather, it brought me to you," he replied. "And now I know why," he murmured, so low she didn't think she had been meant to hear. Fate, she thought bitterly. What kind of answer was that?

He cleared his throat once more. "You will not attempt to channel again. It is too dangerous, and I can't provide any tutoring in this particular area." He got up abruptly. "You should rest. The amount of Power you used to Heal me must have depleted you almost entirely. You will feel weak for a while yet, and you will be ill, if this was truly the first time you channeled."

He was gone before she had time to reply.

Just as Ishamael had predicted, she was ill soon afterward, with a fever like none she'd ever experienced before. She slept for the better part of two days, to the best of her estimation, waking up occasionally to take a sip of water from the goblet he'd left on the bedside table.

Eventually, the fever receded, and she decided she had to get up. She was ravenously hungry. She ate almost everything she could eat without having to cook it first then set to make a proper meal. Her hunger had faded somewhat, but it would come back soon enough, she was sure. She hadn't eaten in days.

She didn't expect Ishamael to come back anytime soon, so she decided to give his books a try, now that she was more familiar with the Old Tongue. She wanted to know the man, to understand how he thought. She gave up after chapter three of Reality and the Absence of Meaning. Had the man ever been sane? None of it made sense to her. Maybe she was simply too dense to grasp it all. Either way, she had to think of something else to get closer to him. If only he stayed here for longer than minutes at a time! Preferably without being on the brink of death.

Out of nowhere, she remembered that he mentioned she'd been unconscious for hours after Healing him. Surely he hadn't actually sat there the whole time, watching her? The thought made her slightly uncomfortable. Giving herself a shake, she put the book back in the hidden alcove. The stew would be ready. She was hungry again.

When she came back from the kitchen with her steaming bowl, Ishamael was sitting in front of the fire. Frowning at his back, she decided to ignore him for the time being and settled at the table. He didn't speak, so she ate in silence then went back to the kitchen for a second bowl.

He joined her in the kitchen and filled a bowl for himself, then followed her in the other room, sitting across from her. He ate with as much enthusiasm as she'd ever seen from him. He usually seemed to consider eating a necessary annoyance. When he was done he asked her if he could finish her bowl (she'd finally gotten her fill) and she nodded once, staring at him in astonishment as he gulped down the remaining scraps of her meal. "Healing takes a lot of energy out of the person being Healed," he explained when he saw the look on her face. "Using the Power drains the channeler as well, of course, all the more considering the tremendous amount you must have applied on me."

She had to keep him talking, to make him stay here. She did not lack questions, but she was afraid he would get annoyed, or even angry, if she pestered him with them. She had to take it easy. "Do you want some more?" That seemed safe enough.

He shook his head. "Not now." He got up, and for a moment she was afraid he would disappear again, but he simply settled back in the armchair.

Relief flowed through her. "Do you want some wine?" No reply. She decided to pour them both a goblet. She brought one to him and he took it without a word. She took one of the chairs and moved it near the fire to settle next to him. She was afraid to say anything, afraid he might vanish again.

She was still wondering what to say when he spoke. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she answered, a bit nervously. Silence fell once more. "What does it mean, to burn yourself out?" she finally asked.

"You really don't know anything, do you?" he said with a sigh. "To be burned out is to be severed from the One Power by accident," he explained.

"Oh. Is that lethal, then?" Shaking his head in disbelief, he chuckled darkly, but he didn't answer. Blood and ashes. She had to change the subject. "What's a piano?" She wasn't sure what prompted that particular question. She had seen that word in Lews Therin's autobiography and couldn't find its meaning anywhere.

He looked at her, startled. "Where did you learn that word? Are you really reading the books in the Old Tongue?" he asked her incredulously, eyes wide.

"Well, yes. What else am I supposed to do? Anyway," she went on before he could reply, "I saw the word, but there wasn't much context, and it wasn't in the lexicons."

He was still staring at her and didn't answer right away. "It's a musical instrument," he finally let on. "From the Age of Legends," he added, although that much, at least, she had already figured out. He rose suddenly. "It's easier if I show you." He vanished.

He was back a moment later. As he called to her, she noticed that there was now a massive contraption standing against the opposite wall. It looked like a large desk with little black and white pieces in the front, and a narrow seat. She stared at it in amazement. How did he get that thing here? He grinned at her, apparently pleased by her stunned reaction. He sat down on the seat and began to play.

She wasn't sure how long he played. She was still sitting on the chair, captivated, her goblet of wine forgotten in her hand. When the music died down, she felt almost… hollow. It was as if she'd just awoken from a dream. She thought she could have listened to him forever.

He twisted on his seat to look at her. "Does that answer your question?" he asked smugly. His words rang loudly in the sudden silence. She nodded slowly, mutely. He walked back to the armchair.

She had a thousand more questions about the Age of Legends and he didn't seem to mind answering them now. She asked everything that came to her, but after a while he didn't need any prompting. He told her about the Aes Sedai of old, about the Treesingers and the Da'shain Aiel, the chora trees, the skyscrapers of Paaran Disen, the Collam Daan and the Sharom. She took it all in. Ishamael looked lost in the past, lost in memories.

She had finally found a way to breach him.