Towers of Midnight

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 now not 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 known better. They— No. Elayne and Nynaeve had done their best, and had been under unusual strain. Besides, bargaining with the Sea Folk was said to be only one step safer than bargaining with the Dark One himself.

Shielyn finally gave a curt nod, though her blouse changed colors several times while she considered, settling on crimson, and her jewelry kept vanishing and reappearing. “Very well. We are indebted to you for the gift of this place, and will agree to your hospitality.” She sat down in a chair apart from Egwene and the other Aes Sedai, and those with her did as well.

Egwene released a soft breath of relief and summoned several small tables with cups of warm, fragrant tea. The Windfinders jumped, though the Wise Ones didn’t bat an eye. Amys did, however, reach for her cup and change the rose-blossom tea to something with a much darker cast.

“Perhaps you will tell us the purpose of this meeting,” Bair said, sipping her tea. The Sea Folk did not pick up theirs, though the Aes Sedai did began to drink.

“We have guessed it already,” Shielyn said. “This confrontation is inevitable, though I wish to the winds that it were not so.”

“Well, speak up, then,” Yukiri said. “What is it about?”

Shielyn focused on Egwene. “For many seasons and tides we hid the nature of our Windfinding from the Aes Sedai. The White Tower inhales, but does not exhale—that which is brought in is never allowed to leave. Now that you know of us, you want us, for you cannot stand the thought of women channeling outside of your grasp.”

The Aes Sedai frowned. Egwene caught Melaine nodding in agreement. The words were true enough, though only one side of the issue. If they’d known how useful White Tower training would be, and how important it was for the people to know that channelers were being cared for and trained…

However, that thinking felt hollow to her. The Sea Folk had their own traditions, and made fine use of their channelers without regulation from the White Tower. Egwene hadn’t spent as much time with the Sea Folk as Nynaeve or Elayne, but she’d had detailed reports. The Windfinders were unskilled with many weaves, but their abilities with specific weaves—particularly those focusing on Air—were far more advanced than those practiced by Aes Sedai.

These women deserved the truth. Was that not what the White Tower, and the Three Oaths, stood for? “You are correct, Shielyn din Sabura Night Waters,” Egwene said. “And your people may have been wise to keep their abilities hidden from the Aes Sedai.”

Yukiri gasped, a quite un-Aes Sedai reaction. Shielyn froze, chain from her ear to nose tinkling softly as the medallions on it hit together. Her blouse changed to blue. “What?”

“You may have been wise,” Egwene said. “I would not presume to second-guess the Amyrlins who came before me, but there is an argument to be made. Perhaps we have been overly zealous to control women who can wield the One Power. It is obvious that the Windfinders have done well in training themselves. I should think that the White Tower could learn much from you.”

Shielyn settled back, scanning Egwene’s face. Egwene met the woman’s eyes and kept her expression calm. See that I am resolute, she thought. See that I mean what I say. That is not flattery. I am Aes Sedai. I speak the truth.

“Well,” Shielyn said. “Perhaps we could make a bargain that would allow us to train your women.”

Egwene smiled. “I was hoping that you would see the advantage of that.” To the side, the three other Aes Sedai regarded Egwene with measured hostility. Well, they would see. The best way to gain the upper hand was to shake expectations like findwater beetles in a jar.

“And yet,” Egwene said, “you acknowledge that there are things the White Tower knows that you do not. Otherwise you would not have striven to bargain for our women to train your Windfinders.”

“We will not rescind that agreement,” Shielyn said quickly. Her blouse turned pale yellow.

“Oh, I expect nothing of the sort,” Egwene said. “It is well that you now have Aes Sedai teachers. Those who bargained with you achieved something unexpected.”

True words, every one. However, the way she said them implied something more—that Egwene had wanted the Aes Sedai to be sent to the Sea Folk ships. Shielyn’s frown deepened, and she sat back in her chair. Egwene hoped she was considering whether her people’s grand victory over the Bowl of the Winds had been a setup from the start.

“If anything,” Egwene continued, “I feel that the previous agreement was not ambitious enough.” She turned to the Wise Ones. “Amys, would you agree that the Aes Sedai have knowledge of weaves that the Wise Ones do not?”

“It would be foolish not to admit Aes Sedai expertise in these areas,” Amys said carefully. “They spend much time practicing their weaves. But there are things we know that they do not.”

“Yes,” Egwene said. “During my time training beneath the Wise Ones, I learned more about leadership than I did during my time in the White Tower. You also gave me very helpful training in Tel’aran’rhiod and Dreaming.”

“All right,” Bair said, “out with it. We’ve been chasing a three-legged lizard this entire conversation, poking it with a stick to see if it will move any further.”

“We need to share what we know with one another,” Egwene said. “We three groups—women who can channel—need to form an alliance.”

“With the White Tower in control, I assume,” Shielyn said.

“All I am saying,” Egwene replied, “is that there is wisdom in sharing and learning from others. Wise Ones, I would have Accepted from the White Tower be sent to train with you. It would be particularly useful to have you train them to master Tel’aran’rhiod.”

It was unlikely that another Dreamer, such as Egwene, would be discovered among the Aes Sedai, though she could hope. The Talent was very rare. Still, it would be advantageous to have some sisters trained in Tel’aran’rhiod, even if they did have to enter with ter’angreal.

“Windfinders,” Egwene continued. “I would send women to you as well, particularly those skilled in Air, to learn to call the winds as you do.”

“Life for an apprentice Windfinder is not easy,” Shielyn said. “I think your women would find it very different from the soft life in the White Tower.”

Egwene’s backside still remembered the pain of her “soft” life in the White Tower. “I do not doubt that it will be challenging,” she said, “but I do not doubt that it would be very helpful for that very reason.”

“Well, I suspect this could be arranged,” Shielyn said, leaning forward, sounding eager. “There would have to be payment, of course.”

“An equal one,” Egwene said. “In allowing you to send some of your apprentices to the White Tower to train with us.”

“We already send women to you.”

Egwene sniffed. “Token sacrifices sent so we will not become suspicious of your Windfinders. Your women often seclude themselves, or come reluctantly. I would have that practice stop—there is no reason to deny potential Windfinders to your people.”

“Well, what would be the difference?” Shielyn asked.

“The women you send would be allowed to return to you after their training,” Egwene said. “Wise Ones, I would have Aiel apprentices sent to us as well. Not reluctantly, and not to become Aes Sedai, but to train and learn our ways. They, too, would be allowed to return, should they desire it, once they are finished.”

“It would have to be more than that,” Amys said. “I worry what would happen to women who become too accustomed to soft wetlander ways.”

“Surely you wouldn’t want to compel them—” Egwene began.

Bair cut in. “They’d still be apprentice Wise Ones, Egwene al’Vere. Children who need to complete their training. And that is assuming we agree to this plan; something about it unsettles my stomach, like too much food after a day of fasting.”

“If we let the Aes Sedai set hooks into our apprentices,” Melaine said, they will not soon be pulled free.”

“Do you want them to be?” Egwene said. “Do you see what you have in me, Melaine? An Amyrlin Seat who was trained by the Aiel? What sacrifice would it be worth to your people to have more like me? Aes Sedai who understand ji’e’toh and the Three-fold Land, who respect Wise Ones rather than seeing them as rivals or wilders?”

The three Aiel settled back at that, looking at one another, troubled.

“And what of you, Shielyn?” Egwene said. “What would it be worth to your people to have an Amyrlin Seat who, having trained with you, regards you as friends and who respects your ways?”

“That could be valuable,” Shielyn admitted. “Assuming the women you send to us have a better temperament than those whom we have seen so far. I have yet to meet an Aes Sedai who could not benefit from a few days hanging from the high mast.”

“That is because you insisted on getting Aes Sedai,” Egwene said “who are set in their ways. If we were to send you Accepted instead, they would be much more pliable.”

“Instead?” Shielyn said immediately. “This is not the bargain we were discussing.”

“It could be,” Egwene replied. “If we allow Sea Folk channelers to return to you instead of requiring that they stay in the Tower, you will no longer have such a strong need of the Aes Sedai teachers.”

“This must be a different agreement.” Shielyn shook her head. “And it will not be a bargain to make lightly. Aes Sedai are serpents, like those rings you wear.”

“What if I offer to include the dream ter’angreal you were loaned?” Egwene asked.

Shielyn glanced at her hand where, in the real world, she would be holding the small plate that—with a channeled bit of Spirit—let a woman enter Tel’aran’rhiod. Egwene hadn’t given them the ter’angreal that let one enter without needing to channel, of course. Those were more versatile, and therefore more powerful. Best to keep those a secret.

“In Tel’aran’rhiod,” Egwene said, leaning forward, “you can go anywhere. You can meet those who are distant without needing to Travel there, can learn what is hidden, and can confer in secret.”

“This is a dangerous thing you suggest, Egwene al’Vere,” Amys said sternly. “To let them loose would be like letting a group of wetlander children run wild in the Three-fold Land.”

“You cannot keep this place for yourself, Amys,” Egwene said.

“We are not so selfish,” the Wise One said. “It is their safety I speak of.”

“Then perhaps,” Egwene said, “it would be best if the Sea Folk sent some of their apprentices to train with you Wise Ones—and perhaps you could send some back.”

“To live on ships?” Melaine said, aghast.

“What better way to conquer your fears of the water?”

“We aren’t afraid of it,” Amys snapped. “We respect it. You wetlanders…” She always spoke of ships as one spoke of a caged lion.

“Regardless.” Egwene turned back to the Sea Folk. “The ter’angreal could be yours, should we have a bargain.”

“You already gave these to us,” Shielyn said.

“They were lent to you, Shielyn, as was made very clear by the women who delivered them.”

“And you would give them to us permanently?” Shielyn asked. “With none of this nonsense about all ter’angreal belonging to the White Tower?”

“It is important that there be a rule to prevent ter’angreal from being kept by those who discover them,” Egwene said. “That way, we can remove a potentially dangerous item from a foolish merchant or farmer. But I would be willing to make a formal exception for the Windfinders and Wise Ones.”

“So the glass pillars…” Amys said. “I have wondered if the Aes Sedai would ever try to lay claim to them.”

“I doubt that would happen,” Egwene said. “But I also suspect that it would ease Aiel minds if we were to proclaim it officially, that those ter’angreal—and others you possess—belong to you, and that sisters cannot claim them.”

That gave the Wise Ones serious thought.

“I still find this agreement odd,” Bair said. “Aiel, training in the White Tower, but not becoming Aes Sedai? It is not the way things have been.”

“The world is changing, Bair,” Egwene said softly. “Back in Emond’s Field, there was a patch of fine, cultivated Emond’s Glory flowers near a brook. My father liked to walk there, and loved their beauty. But then when the new bridge was built, people began traipsing across the patch to get to it.

“My father tried for years to keep them off the patch. Small fences, signs. Nothing worked. And then he thought to build a neat path of river stones through the patch, cultivating the flowers to the sides. After that, people stopped walking on them.

“When change comes, you can scream and try to force things to stay the same. But you’ll usually end up getting trampled. However, if you can direct the changes, they can serve you. Just as the Power serves us, but only after we surrender to it.”

Egwene looked at each woman in turn. “Our three groups should have begun working together long ago. The Last Battle is upon us, and the Dragon Reborn threatens to free the Dark One. If that weren’t enough, we have another common foe—one who would see Aes Sedai, Windfinders and Wise Ones alike destroyed.”

“The Seanchan,” Melaine said.

Renaile, sitting at the back of the Windfinders, let out a soft hiss at the word. Her clothing changed, and she was wearing armor, holding a sword. It was gone in a moment.

“Yes,” Egwene said. “Together, we can be strong enough to fight them Apart…”

“We must consider this bargain,” Shielyn said. Egwene noticed a wind blowing through the room, likely created by one of the Sea Folk by accident. “We will meet again and perhaps make a promise. If we make it, the terms will be this: We will send you two apprentices a year, and you will send two to us.”

“Not your weakest,” Egwene said. “I want your most promising.”

“And you will send the same?” Shielyn said.

“Yes,” Egwene said. Two was a start. They would probably wish to move to larger numbers once the plan was proven effective. But she would not push for that at the start.

“And us?” Amys said. “We are part of this ‘bargain’ as you put it?”

“Two Accepted,” Egwene said, “in return for two apprentices. They train for a period of no less than six months, but no more than two years. Once our women are among you, they are to be considered your apprentices, and must follow your rules.” She hesitated. “At the end of their training, all apprentices and Accepted must return to their people for at least one year. After that, if yours decide they want to be Aes Sedai, they can return to be considered. The same goes for women among us, should they decide to join with you instead.”

Bair nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps there will be women like yourself who, seeing our ways, will know them superior. It is still a shame we lost you.”

“My place was elsewhere,” Egwene said.

“Will you accept this between us as well?” Shielyn said to the Wise Ones. “Should we agree to this bargain, two for two, in a similar manner?

“If the bargain is agreed to,” Bair said, looking to the other Wise Ones, “we will make it with you as well. But we must speak with the other Wise Ones about it.”

“And what of the ter’angreal?” Shielyn said, turning back to Egwene.

“Yours,” Egwene said. “In exchange, you will release us from out promise to send sisters to train you, and we will let any Sea Folk currently among us return to their people. All of this is subject to the approval of your people, and I will have to bring this before the Hall of the Tower.”

Of course, as Amyrlin, her decrees were law. If the Hall balked, however, those laws could end up being ignored. In this, she would need to get their support—and she wanted to, particularly considering her stance that the Hall should work together with her more and meet in secret less.

She was reasonably certain she could get approval for this proposal, however. The Aes Sedai wouldn’t like giving up ter’angreal, but they also did not like the bargain that had been made with the Sea Folk over the Bowl of the Winds. To be rid of that, they would give almost anything.

“I knew you would try to end the sisters training us,” Shielyn said, sounding self-satisfied.

“Which would you rather have?” Egwene asked. “Women who are among our weakest members, and who see their service as a punishment? Or instead, your own Sea Folk, who have learned the best we can offer and return happily to share?” Egwene had been half-tempted to simply send Sea Folk Aes Sedai to them to fulfill the bargain anyway; it seemed a proper twisting of the situation.

Hopefully, however, this new bargain would supplant the old one. She had a feeling she’d lose the Sea Folk sisters anyway, at least the ones who longed to be back with their people. The world was changing, and now that the Windfinders were no longer a secret, the old ways need not be maintained.

“We will discuss,” Shielyn said. She nodded to the others, and they vanished from the room. They certainly did learn quickly.

“This dance is a dangerous one, Egwene al’Vere,” Amys said, standing and adjusting her shawl. “There was a time when the Aiel would have taken pride to have served the Aes Sedai. That time has passed.”

“The women you thought you would find are nothing more than a dream, Amys,” Egwene said. “Real life is often more disappointing than dreams, but at least when you find honor in the real world, you know it to be more than a fancy.”

The Wise One nodded. “We will likely agree to this bargain. We have need to learn what the Aes Sedai can teach.”

“We will pick our strongest women,” Bair added. “Those who will not be corrupted by wetlander softness.” There was no condemnation in those words. Calling wetlanders soft was not an insult, in Bair’s mind.

Amys nodded. “This work you do is a good one so long as you do not presume to tie us in steel bands.”

No, Amys, Egwene thought. I will not tie you in bands of steel. I’ll use lace instead.

“Now,” Bair said. “You still have need of us this day? You indicated a battle…?”

“Yes,” Egwene said. “Or so I hope.” No word had come. That meant Nynaeve and Siuan hadn’t discovered anyone listening. Had her ploy failed?

The Wise Ones nodded to her, then walked to the side, conferring quietly. Egwene trailed over to the Aes Sedai.

Yukiri stood. “I don’t like this, Mother,” Yukiri said, speaking softly and eyeing the Wise Ones. “I don’t think the Hall will agree to this. Many are adamant that all objects of the One Power should belong to us.”

“The Hall will see reason,” Egwene said. “We’ve already returned the Bowl of Winds to the Sea Folk, and now that Elayne has rediscovered the method of crafting ter’angreal, it is only a matter of time before there are so many we cannot keep track of them all.”

“But Elayne is an Aes Sedai, Mother,” Seaine said, rising, face troubled. “Surely you can keep her in line.”

“Perhaps,” Egwene said, speaking softly. “But doesn’t it strike you odd that—after all of these years—so many Talents are returning, so many discoveries being made? My Dreaming, Elayne’s ter’angreal, Foretelling. Rare Talents seem in abundance. An Age is ending, and the world is changing. I doubt that Elayne’s Talent will remain unique. What if one of the Wise Ones or Sea Folk manifest it?”

The other three sat quietly, troubled.

“It still isn’t right to give up, Mother,” Yukiri finally said. “With effort, we could bring the Wise Ones and Windfinders under control.”

“And the Asha’man?” Egwene said softly, unable to keep a hint of discomfort out of her voice. “Will we insist that all angreal and sa’angreal created for men belong to us, though we cannot use them? What if there are Asha’man who learn to create objects of Power? Will we force them to give up everything they create to us? Could we enforce that?”

“I…” Yukiri said.

Leane shook her head. “She’s right, Yukiri. Light, but she is.”

“The world as it was cannot be ours any longer,” Egwene said softly, not wanting the Wise Ones to overhear. “Was it ever? The Black Tower bonds Aes Sedai, the Aiel no longer revere us, the Windfinders have hidden their best channelers from us for centuries and are becoming increasingly belligerent. If we try to hold too tightly to all of this, we will either become tyrants or fools, depending upon how successful we are. I accept neither title.

“We will lead them, Yukiri. We must become a source that women look to, all women. We achieve that by not holding too tightly, by bringing their channelers to train with us and by sending our most talented Accepted to become experts in the things they are best at.”

“And if they are saying the same thing right now?” Leane asked softly, looking over at the Wise Ones, who were speaking in hushed tones on the far side of the room. “If they try to play us as we play them?”

“Then we have to play the best,” Egwene said. “All of this is secondary, for now. We need unity against the Shadow and the Seanchan. We have to—” A frazzled-looking Siuan appeared in the room, her dress singed on one side. “Mother! We need you!”

“The battle has begun?” Egwene said, urgent. To the side, the Wise Ones perked up.

“It has,” Siuan said, panting. “It happened right off. Mother, they didn’t come to eavesdrop! They attacked!”

Perrin streaked across the land, covering leagues with each step. He needed to take the spike someplace away from Slayer. Perhaps the ocean? He could— An arrow hissed through the air, slicing his shoulder. Perrin cursed and spun. They were on a high rocky hillside. Slayer stood downhill from him, bow raised to his angular face, dark eyes alight with anger. He released another arrow.

A wall, Perrin thought, summoning a wall of bricks in front of him. The arrow punched several inches into the bricks, but stopped. Perrin immediately sent himself away. He couldn’t go far, though, not while carrying the dome.

Perrin changed so that he wasn’t going straight north any longer, but moving toward the east. He doubted that would throw off Slayer—he could probably see the dome moving and judge its direction.

What to do? He’d planned to toss the spike into the ocean, but if Slayer was following, he’d just recover it. Perrin concentrated on moving as quickly as he could, covering leagues with each heartbeat. Could he outrun his foe? The landscape passed him in a blur. Mountains, forests, lakes, meadows.

Just as he thought he might have gotten ahead, a figure appeared just beside him, swinging a sword at his neck. Perrin ducked, barely dodging the attack. He growled, raising his hammer, but Slayer vanished.

Perrin stopped in place, frustrated. Slayer could move faster than Perrin, and could get under the dome by jumping ahead of it, then waiting for Perrin to move it on top of him. From there, he could jump directly to Perrin and attack.

I can’t outrun him, Perrin realized. The only way to be certain, the only way to protect Faile and the others, was to kill Slayer. Otherwise the man would recover the spike from wherever Perrin put it, then return it to trap his people.

Perrin glanced around, getting his bearings. He was on a lightly forested slope, and could see Dragonmount to the north of him. He glanced eastward, and saw the tip of a large structure peeking out over the tree-tops. The White Tower. The city might give Perrin an advantage, make it easier to hide in one of the many buildings or alleys.

Perrin leaped off in that direction, carrying the spike with him, the dome it created traveling with him as he moved. It would come down to a fight after all.