"And how will it seem," Egwene asked, "if those who know me best fuse my authority? Might it seem to the others that there is something he do not know? Some weakness that only my friends have seen?"

Nynaeve froze. Suddenly, her honesty melted into suspicion, her eyes narrowing. "This wasn't about asking me for advice at all, was it?"

"Of course it was," Egwene said. "Only a fool would ignore the advice of those who support her. But how did it feel for you, those first weeks when you became Wisdom? When all the women you were supposed to be leading looked at you only as the girl they had known?"

"Terrible," Nynaeve said softly.

"And were they wrong to do so?"

"Yes. Because I'd become something more. It wasn't me any longer, it was my station."

Egwene met the older woman's eyes, holding them, and an understanding passed between them.

"Light," Nynaeve said. "You caught me quite soundly, didn't you?"

"I need you, Nynaeve," Egwene said. "Not just because you're so strong in the Power, not just because you're a clever, determined woman. Not just because you're refreshingly untainted by Tower politics, and not just because you're one of the few who knew Rand before this all began. But because I need people I can trust implicitly. If you can be one of those."

"You'll have me kneeling on the ground," Nynaeve said. "Kissing your ring."

"And? Would you have done it for another Amyrlin?"

"Not happily."

"But you'd have done it."

"Yes."

"And do you honestly think there is another who would do a better job than I?"

Nynaeve hesitated, then shook her head.

"Then why is it so bitter for you to serve the Amyrlin? Not me, Nynaeve, but the station."

Nynaeve's face looked as if she'd drunk something very bitter. "This will … not be easy for me."

"I've never known you to avoid a task because it was difficult, Nynaeve."

"The station. All right. I'll try."

"Then you might begin by calling me Mother." Egwene held up a finger to cut off Nynaeve's objection. "To remind yourself, Nynaeve. It needn't be permanent, at least not in private. But you must begin thinking of me as I Amyrlin."

"All right, all right. You've pricked me with enough thorns. I already feel as if I've been drinking windsatter's draught all day." She hesitated, then added, "Mother." She almost seemed to choke on the word.

Egwene smiled encouragingly.

"I won't treat you the way women did me after I was first named Wisdom," Nynaeve promised. "Light! Odd to be able to feel as they did. Well, they were still fools. I'll do better; you'll see it. Mother."

It sounded a little less forced that time. Egwene broadened her smile. There were few ways to motivate Nynaeve better than a competition.

Suddenly, a tinkling bell rang in Egwene's mind. She'd almost forgotten her wards. "I think Elayne has arrived."

"Good," Nynaeve said, sounding relieved. "Let's go to her, then." She began striding back toward the Hall, then froze. She glanced back. "If it pleases you, Mother."

I wonder if she'll ever be able to say that without sounding awkward, Egwene thought. Well, so long as she's trying. "An excellent suggestion." She joined Nynaeve. Upon arriving in the Hall, however, they found it empty. Egwene folded her arms, looking around.

"Maybe she went looking for us," Nynaeve said.

"We'd have seen her in the hallway," Egwene said. "Besides…"

Elayne popped into the room. She wore a regal white gown, sparkling with diamonds. As soon as she saw Egwene, she smiled broadly, rushing over and taking her hands. "You did it, Egwene! We're whole again!"

Egwene smiled. "Yes, though the Tower is still injured. There is much to do."

"You sound like Nynaeve." Elayne glanced at Nynaeve, smiling.

"Thank you," Nynaeve said dryly.

"Oh, don't be so silly." Elayne walked over and gave Nynaeve a friendly hug. "I'm glad you're here. I'd worried that you wouldn't come, and Egwene would have to hunt you down and pull your toes off one at a time."

"The Amyrlin," Nynaeve said, "has much better things to do. Isn't that right, Mother?"

Elayne started, looking amazed. She got a glimmer in her eye, and hid a smile. She assumed that Nynaeve had been given a tongue-lashing. But, of course, Egwene knew that wouldn't have worked with Nynaeve; it would be like trying to yank a burr out of your skin when its spines had gone in the wrong way.

"Elayne," Egwene said. "Where did you go, before we returned?"

"What do you mean?" she said.

"When you first came here, we were gone. Did you go somewhere looking for us?"

Elayne seemed perplexed. "I channeled into my ter'angreal, went to sleep, and you were here when I appeared."

"Then who set off the wards?" Nynaeve asked.

Troubled, Egwene reset the wards and then—thinking carefully—she wove an inverted ward against eavesdropping but altered it to allow a little bit of sound through. With another weave, she projected that little bit far out around them.

Someone who grew near would hear them as if whispering. They'd edge closer, but the sound would remain a whisper. Perhaps that would draw them closer, inch by inch, as they strained to hear.

Nynaeve and Elayne watched her make the weaves, Elayne looking awed, though Nynaeve nodded thoughtfully to herself.

"Sit, please," Egwene said, making herself a chair and sitting in it. "We have much to discuss." Elayne made herself a throne, probably unconsciously, and Nynaeve made a seat copying the chairs of the Sitters in the room. Egwene, of course, had moved the Amyrlin Seat.

Nynaeve looked from one throne to another, obviously dissatisfied. Maybe that was why she'd resisted these meetings for so long; Egwene and Elayne had risen so far.

It was time for some honey to take away the bitterness. "Nynaeve," Egwene said. "I'd like it very much if you could return to the Tower and teach more of the sisters in your new method of Healing. Many are learning it, but they could use more instruction. And there are others who are reluctant to abandon the old ways."

"Stubborn goats," Nynaeve said. "Show them cherries and they'll still eat the rotten apples, if they've been doing it long enough. I'm not sure it would be prudent for me to come, though. Er, Mother."

"Why is that?"

"Rand," Nynaeve said. "Someone has to keep an eye on him. Someone other than Cadsuane, at least." Her lips turned down at that woman's name. "He's changed recently."

"Changed?" Elayne said, sounding concerned. "What do you mean?"

"Have you seen him recently?" Egwene asked.

"no," Elayne said immediately. Too quickly. It was undoubtedly the truth—Elayne wouldn't lie to her—but there were things she was hiding about Rand. Egwene had suspected it for a time. Could she have bonded him?

"He has changed," Nynaeve said. "And it's a very good thing. Mother… you don't know how bad he grew. There were times when I was terrified of him. Now… that's gone. He's the same person—he even talks the same way as before. Quietly, without anger. Before it was like the quiet of a knife being drawn, and now it's like the quiet of a breeze."

"He's awakened," Elayne said suddenly. "He's warm now."