“I may be exposing my legs,” Elayne barked, spots of color rising in her cheeks, “but at least I am not flashing my — You dreamed of her, too?”

It did not take long to compare notes, though Elayne continued to show a viperish tongue; Nynaeve had had a perfectly good reason for screaming at Egwene, and Elayne probably had been dreaming of parading in front of Rand in her sequined costume, if not less. Saying so was simple honesty. Even so, it quickly became clear that Egwene had said the same things in both their dreams, and that left little room for doubt.

“She kept saying she was really there,” Nynaeve muttered, “but I thought it was just part of the dream.” Egwene had told them often enough that it was possible, talking to someone in her dreams, but she had never said that she could. “Why should I have believed? I mean, she said she'd finally recognized some spear he's taken to carrying as Seanchan work. That's preposterous.”

“Of course.” Elayne arched one eyebrow in an irritating manner. “Just as preposterous as finding Cerandin and her s'redit. There must be other Seanchan refugees, Nynaeve, and spears are likely the least of what they left behind.”

Why could the woman not say anything without a barb? “I notice how well you believed.”

Elayne threw the finished braid over her shoulder, then tossed her head again, superciliously, for good measure. “I do hope Rand is all right.” Nynaeve sniffed; Egwene had said he would need days of rest before he was on his feet again but he had been Healed. The other woman continued, “No one has ever taught him he mustn't overextend himself. Doesn't he know the Power can kill him if he draws too much, or weaves when tired? That much is the same for him as for us.”

So she meant to change the subject, did she? “Perhaps he doesn't know,” Nynaeve told her sweetly, “since there isn't a White Tower for men.” That made her think of something else. “Do you think it really was Sammael?”

Caught with a retort on the tip of her tongue, Elayne glowered at her sideways, then heaved a peevish sigh. “It hardly matters to us, does it? What we should be thinking about is using the ring again. For more than meeting Egwene. There is so much to learn. The more I do learn, the more I know how much I don't know yet.”

“No.” Nynaeve did not really expect the other woman to take out the ring ter'angreal then and there, but she took a reflexive step toward the brick stove. “No more trips to Tel'aran'rhiod, for either of us, except to meet her.”

Elayne went right on without appearing to notice. Nynaeve could have been talking to herself. “It isn't as though we need to channel. We won't give ourselves away that way.” She did not look at Nynaeve, but there was a hint of bite in her voice. She maintained that they could use the Power, if they were careful. For all Nynaeve knew, Elayne did just that behind her back. “I'll wager if one of us visited the Heart of the Stone tonight, Egwene would be there. Think, if we could talk to her in her dreams, we'd not need to worry about encountering Moghedien in Tel'aran'rhiod any longer.”

“You think it's easy to learn, then?” Nynaeve asked dryly. “If that's so, why hasn't she taught us already? Why hasn't she done it before this?” Her heart was not in it, though. She was the one worried about Moghedien. Elayne knew the woman was dangerous, but it was like knowing a viper was dangerous; Elayne knew, but Nynaeve had been bitten. And being able to communicate without entering the World of Dreams would be valuable quite aside from avoiding Moghedien.

In any case, Elayne still was paying no attention to her. “I wonder why she was so insistent we not tell anyone. That makes no sense.” For a moment she worried her underlip with her teeth. “There is another reason to talk to her as soon as we can. It didn't mean anything to me then, but the last time she spoke to me, she vanished in midsentence. What I remember now is that before she did, she suddenly looked surprised, and frightened.”

Nynaeve took a deep breath and pressed both hands hard against her stomach in a vain effort to quiet sudden flutters. She managed to keep her voice flat, though. “Moghedien?”

“Light, you do have cheerful thoughts! No. If Moghedien could come into our dreams, I think we would know it by now.” Elayne gave a small shiver; she did have some idea of how dangerous Moghedien was. “Anyway, it wasn't that sort of look. She was frightened, but not enough for that.”

“Then maybe she isn't in any danger. Maybe...” Forcing her hands to her sides, Nynaeve compressed her lips angrily. Only, she was not certain who she was angry with.

Putting the ring away, out of sight, except for meetings with Egwene, had been a good idea. It had. Any venture into the World of Dreams could have found Moghedien, and keeping clear of her was better than a good idea. She already knew she was overmatched. That thought rankled, worse every time she had it, but it was the simple truth.

Yet now there was the chance that Egwene needed help. A small chance. Just because she was properly wary of Moghedien did not mean she was underrating the possibility. And it might be that Rand had one of the Forsaken after him in the same personal way that Moghedien was after her and Elayne. What Egwene reported, both of Cairhien and of the mountains, smacked of one man daring another to knock a chip off his shoulder. Not that she could see anything to do about that. But Egwene...

Sometimes it seemed to Nynaeve that she had forgotten why she had left the Two Rivers in the first place. To protect young people from her village who had been caught in Aes Sedai webs. Not that much younger than herself — only a few years — yet the gap seemed wider when you were the village Wisdom. Of course, the Women's Circle in Emond's Field had certainly chosen a new Wisdom by now, but that did not make it less her village, or them less her people. In her heart of hearts, it made her no less the Wisdom. Somehow, though, protecting Rand and Egwene and Mat and Perrin from Aes Sedai had become helping them survive, and finally, without her quite realizing when or how, even that goal had been submerged in other needs. Entering the White Tower to learn how better to pull down Moiraine had become a burning desire to learn how to Heal. Even her hatred for Aes Sedai meddling in people's lives now coexisted with her desire to become one. Not that she really wanted to, but it was the only way to learn what she wanted to learn. Everything had become as tangled as one of those Aes Sedai webs, herself included, and she d




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