Towers of Midnight

12 An Empty Ink Bottle

Min sat on a window ledge in the Stone of Tear, enjoying the warmth. The afternoon breeze was refreshing, laden though it was with humidity and the scents of the city below. The Tairens had been calling the weather “chilly,” which made Min smile. How would these folk respond to a good Andoran winter, with snow piled up at the sides of buildings and icicles hanging from the eaves?

All that could be said of the weather lately was that it was less sweltering than usual. The warmth that Min was enjoying, however, had nothing to do with the heat in the air.

Sunlight shone upon the city. In the Stone’s courtyards, Defenders in their striped sleeves and breeches kept stopping and looking up toward the open sky. The clouds still lurked on the horizon, but they were broken around the city in an unnatural ring. Perfectly circular.

The warmth that Min felt was not caused by the sunlight. How can you just sit there?” Nynaeve demanded. Min turned her head. The window was wide open, and the walls of the Stone were thick. Min sat on the windowsill with her knees bent, her bare toes touching the wall on the other side. Her boots and stockings lay on the floor beside a stack of books.

Nynaeve paced the room. The Stone of Tear had withstood sieges and storms, wars and desolation, but Min wondered if it had ever survived anything quite like Nynaeve al’Meara in a pique. The dark-haired Aes Sedai had spent the last three days stalking through the corridors like a crackling thunderhead, intimidating Defenders, terrifying servants.

“Three days,” Nynaeve said. “Three days he’s been gone! The Last Battle looms, and the Dragon Reborn is missing.”

“He’s not missing,” Min said softly. “Rand knows where he is.”

“You do as well,” Nynaeve said, her voice curt.

“I’m not leading you to him, Nynaeve.”

“And why not? Surely you can’t—”

“He needs to be alone.”

Nynaeve cut off. She walked over to the corner table and poured herself a cup of chilled Tremalking black. Chilled tea. That seemed so odd. Tea was meant to be warming during cold days.

Min turned her eyes northward again, into the distant, cloud-smothered haze. As far as she could determine through the bond, she was looking directly at him. Was he in Andor, perhaps? Or in the Borderlands? She’d been tempted to use the bond to seek him out at first, when he’d felt that awful anguish. Pain deeper than the wounds in his side. Agony, anger and despair. In those moments, Rand had seemed more dangerous than he ever had before. Not even that night—when he’d knelt above her, strangling her with one hand—had he been as frightening.

And then…

She smiled. And then had come the warmth. It radiated from the bond like the comfort of a winter hearth. Something wonderful was happening, something she’d been awaiting without knowing it.

“It will be all right, Nynaeve,” she said.

“How can you say that?” The woman took a sip of her tea. “He didn’t destroy Ebou Dar, but that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous. You heard what he nearly did to Tam. His own father, Min.”

“A man should not be condemned for what he ‘nearly’ did, Nynaeve. He stopped himself.”

“He didn’t stop himself at Natrin’s Barrow.”

“That was necessary.”

“You didn’t believe that at the time.”

Min took a deep breath. Nynaeve had been goading her into arguments lately; she certainly had good reason to be tense. Her husband was riding toward his death. The Dragon Reborn—a man she saw as her charge, still—was wandering alone, and there was nothing Nynaeve could do. And if there was one thing Nynaeve hated, it was being powerless.

“Nynaeve,” Min said. “If this lasts much longer, I’ll lead you to him. I promise.”

The Aes Sedai narrowed her eyes. “Much longer?”

“A few days.”

“In a few days he could level Cairhien.”

“Do you really think he would do that, Nynaeve?” Min asked softly. “Truly?”

“Do I?” Nynaeve gripped her cup of tea, staring down at its contents.

“Once I would have laughed at the idea. I knew Rand al’Thor, and the boy still inside him. The man he’s become frightens me. I always told him he needed to grow up. And then… and then he did.” She shivered visibly.

Min started to reply, but motion drew her attention. Two Maidens—Surial and Lerian—guarded the open doorway to the hallway; they’d turned to watch someone approach. There were always Maidens around Min, these days.

Sarene Nemdahl entered the small room a moment later. Min’s quarters in the Stone were not expansive—she rarely used them, instead staying with Rand. Her sitting room had a thick blue-and-white rug and a small cherry desk, but nothing else.

Sarene wore her dark hair in its customary beaded braids framing her near-perfect face. “Cadsuane Sedai,” Sarene said, “she has need of you.”

“Is that so?” Nynaeve said. “Well, perhaps Cadsuane Sedai can—”

“Alanna is gone,” Sarene continued, unruffled. “Vanished right from her chambers. The Defenders, they didn’t see her go, and there was no sign of a gateway.”

“Oh. Well, let’s go then.” Nynaeve bustled out of the chamber.

“And I’m telling you that I felt nothing,” Corele said. She smiled, tapping the side of her nose. “I don’t know how she got out. Unless you think she somehow invented flying—which I daresay wouldn’t be outside reason, considering some of what has occurred lately.”

Fool woman, Cadsuane thought, leveling a flat stare at Corele. The woman’s flippancy was preferable to the self-importance of some other Aes Sedai, but today Cadsuane hadn’t the patience for it.

The Yellow shrugged, still smiling, but said nothing further. Cadsuane placed hands on hips, surveying the small chamber. Room for a trunk to hold clothing, a cot for sleeping and a desk. Cadsuane would have expected Aes Sedai to demand more, even in Tear. Of course, Alanna didn’t often reveal her intimate connection to the Dragon. Most didn’t know of it.

Two other Aes Sedai—Rafela Cindal and Bera Harkin—stood at the side of the room. Bera said she’d felt Alanna channeling, but nothing demanding. Certainly not enough to create a gateway.

Burn that woman! Cadsuane had thought Alanna well in hand, despite recent stubbornness. She’d obviously slipped out intentionally. The clothing from the trunk was gone and the writing desk was mostly bare. Only an empty ink bottle remained.

“She said nothing to you?” Cadsuane said.

“No, Cadsuane Sedai,” Bera replied. “We haven’t spoken more than passing words in weeks. I… well, I did often hear weeping in her room.”

“What is all the fuss about?” a new voice said. Cadsuane glanced at the doorway as Nynaeve arrived and met Cadsuane’s stare. “She’s only one person, and so far as I understand, she was free to leave when she wished.”

“Phaw,” Cadsuane said. “The girl isn’t ‘only one person.’ She’s a tool. An important one.” She reached over to the desk, holding up a sheet of paper that they’d found in the room. It had been folded with a blood-red seal of wax on one side. “Do you recognize this?”

Nynaeve frowned. “No. Should I?”

Lying or truthful? Cadsuane hated not being able to trust the words of someone who called herself an Aes Sedai. But Nynaeve al’Meara had never held the Oath Rod.

Those eyes looked genuinely confused. Nynaeve should be trustworthy; she prided herself on her honesty. Unless that was a front. Unless she was Black.

Careful, she thought. You’ll end up as distrustful as the boy is. Nynaeve hadn’t given Alanna the note, which eliminated her last good theory on its origin.

“So, what is it, Cadsuane Sedai?” Nynaeve demanded. At least she used the honorific; Cadsuane nearly chided the girl for her tone. But, truth be told, she felt as frustrated as Nynaeve did. There were times when such emotions were justified. Facing the end of the world with the Dragon Reborn completely out of control was one of them.

“I’m not sure,” Cadsuane said. “The letter was opened in haste—the paper was torn. It was dropped on the floor, and the note inside taken, along with clothing and emergency items.”

“But why does it matter?” Nynaeve asked. Behind her, Min slipped into the room, two Maidens taking up positions by the door. Had Min yet figured out the real reason the Aiel trailed her?

“Because, Nynaeve,” Min said. “She is a pathway to him.”

Nynaeve sniffed. “She’s been no more helpful than you, Min.”

“As persuasive as you can be, Nynaeve,” Cadsuane said dryly, “the Shadow has means to make people more forthcoming.”

Nynaeve blushed furiously, then began muttering under her breath. Alanna could point the way to the Dragon Reborn. If agents of the Dark One had taken her, there would be no hiding Rand from them. Their traps had been deadly enough when they’d needed to coax and lure him into them.

“We’ve been fools,” Nynaeve said. “There should have been a hundred Maidens guarding her.”

“The Forsaken have known where to find him before,” Cadsuane said, though inwardly she agreed. She should have seen Alanna better watched. “And he has survived. This is simply one more thing to be aware of.” She sighed. “Can someone bring us some tea?”

Bera was actually the one who went to fetch it, though Cadsuane hadn’t taken any care to cultivate influence with the woman. Well, a reputation was worth something, it appeared.

Bera returned shortly; Cadsuane had stepped out into the hall to think. She accepted the cup and braced herself for the tea’s bitter taste—she’d asked for it partially because she needed a moment to think, and an empty-handed woman often looked nervous.

She raised the cup to her lips. What next? Ask the Defenders at the gate of the Stone? Last night, Alanna—after being prodded—had confirmed that al’Thor was still in the same place. Up north, Andor perhaps. For three days. What was the fool boy— Cadsuane froze. The tea tasted good.

It was wonderful, as a matter of fact. Perfectly sweetened with honey. Faint bitterness and a relaxing flavor. It had been weeks, perhaps months, since Cadsuane had tasted tea that wasn’t spoiled.

Min gasped, turning sharply toward the northern quarter of the city. The two Maidens in the doorway were gone in a heartbeat, dashing down the hallway. Cadsuane’s suspicions were confirmed; their careful watch of Min had been less about protecting her and more about watching for signs of…

“He’s here,” Min said softly.