The Black sisters were spread across all Ajahs. Some were Sitters, others were the lowest and least powerful of Aes Sedai. And there were hundreds of them, a little over two hundred by Verin’s own count. Twenty-one in the Blue, twenty-eight in the Brown, thirty in the Gray, thirty-eight in the Green, seventeen in the White, twenty-one in the Yellow, and a stunning forty-eight in the Red. There were names of Accepted and novices as well. The book noted that those had probably been Darkfriends before they joined the White Tower, as the Black Ajah did not recruit from any except Aes Sedai. It referred her to an earlier page for a longer explanation, but Egwene continued down the list of sisters. She needed to know the names of each woman. She needed to.
There were Black sisters among the rebel Aes Sedai and those of the White Tower, and even some among those unaligned who had been away from the Tower during the split. Other than Sheriam, the most disturbing discovery on the list were the sisters who were Sitters in either the Tower or among the rebels. Duhara Basaheen. Velina Behar. Sedore Dajenna. Delana Mosalaine, of course, and Talene Minly as well. Meidani had admitted to Egwene in confidence that Talene was the member of the Black Ajah that Saerin and the others had discovered, but she had fled the Tower.
Moria Karentanis. That last was a member of the Blue Ajah, a woman who had worn the shawl for over a hundred years, known for her wisdom and level-headedness. Egwene had conferred with her on numerous occasions, and had drawn on her experience, assuming that she—a Blue—would be one of the most reliable in her support. Moria had been one of those who had been eager to elect Egwene as Amyrlin, and had stood quickly in Egwene’s favor at several crucial moments.
Each name was like a thorn through Egwene’s skin. Dagdara Finchey, who had healed Egwene once when she’d stumbled and twisted her ankle. Zanica, who had taught Egwene lessons and had seemed so pleasant. Larissa Lyndel. Miyasi, for whom Egwene had cracked nuts. Nesita. Nacelle Kayama. Nalaene Forrell, who—like Elza—was bound to Rand. Birlen Pena. Melvara. Chai Rugan. . . .
The list went on. Neither Romanda or Lelaine were Black, which was somewhat irritating. Being able to throw one or both of those into chains would have been very convenient. Why Sheriam, but neither of those two?
Stop it, Egwene, she thought. You aren’t behaving rationally. Wishing for certain sisters to be Black got her nowhere.
Cadsuane was not on the list. Neither were any of Egwene’s dearest friends. She hadn’t expected them to be, but it was still good to complete the list without seeing any of their names. The group hunting the Black Ajah in the White Tower really was true, as none of their names were on the list. The list also didn’t contain the names of any of the spies sent from Salidar.
And Elaida’s name wasn’t on the list either. There was a notation at the end, explaining that Verin had looked very closely at Elaida, searching for proof that she was Black. But comments by Black sisters led her to believe strongly that Elaida was not herself Black. Just an unstable woman who was sometimes as frustrating to the Black as she was to the rest of the Tower.
It made sense, unfortunately. Knowing that Galina and Alviarin were Black had led Egwene to suspect that she wouldn’t find Elaida’s name on the list. The Blacks seemed more likely to choose someone they could manipulate to be Amyrlin, then install a Black Keeper to keep her in line.
They probably had used some kind of leverage against Elaida through Galina—whom Verin noted had probably managed to make herself Head of the Red Ajah—or Alviarin. They had bullied or bribed Elaida to do as they wished without her knowing that she was serving the Black. And that helped explain Alviarin’s strange fall. Had she gone too far, perhaps? Overstepped herself, earning Elaida’s ire? It seemed plausible, though they wouldn’t know for certain until Elaida spoke or Egwene could have Alviarin interrogated. Which she meant to do as soon as possible.
She closed the fat red book, thoughtful, her candle burned nearly down to the base. It was growing late in the day. Perhaps it was time to insist on being given some information about the state of the Tower.
Before she could decide how to go about that, a knock came at the door. Egwene looked up, hurriedly twisting the straps of the bookmark around and making both books vanish. A knock meant someone other than a Red was there.
“Come,” she called.
The door opened to reveal Nicola, with her large dark eyes and slender build, standing outside beneath the watchful eye of Turese. The Red did not seem pleased that Egwene had a visitor, but the steaming bowl carried on Nicola’s tray indicated why she’d been given leave to knock.
Nicola curtsied to Egwene, her white novice dress fluttering. Turese’s scowl deepened. Nicola didn’t notice, however. “For Verin Sedai,” she said softly, nodding toward the bed. “By orders of the Mistress of Kitchens, after hearing how exhausted Verin Sedai was from her travels.”
Egwene nodded, gesturing toward the table, hiding her excitement. Nicola approached quickly, setting the tray on the table, whispering under her breath, “I’m to ask if you trust her.” She glanced at the bed again.
“Yes,” Egwene answered, covering the sound by scooting her stool back. So her allies didn’t know that Verin was dead. That was good; the secret was still safe, for the moment.
Nicola nodded, then spoke in a louder voice. “It would be good for her to eat it when it’s warm, though I’ll leave it to you if you wish not to wake her. I’m instructed to warn you not to touch it yourself.”
“I won’t do so unless it turns out that she has no need of it,” Egwene replied, turning away. A few moments later, the door closed behind Nicola. Egwene waited a painful few minutes for Turese to open the door and check on her, passing the time by washing her face and hands, and putting on a clean dress. Finally, confident she wouldn’t be interrupted, she grabbed the spoon and fished in the soup. Sure enough, she found a small glass vial with a rolled-up piece of paper in it.
Clever. Her allies had apparently heard of Verin’s presence in Egwene’s room and decided to use it as an excuse to get someone in. She unrolled the paper, which contained only one word. “Wait.”
She sighed, but there was nothing to do. She didn’t dare get out the book and continue reading, however. Soon, she heard voices outside, and what sounded like an argument. Another knock came at the door.
“Come,” Egwene said, curious.
The door opened and Meidani stepped into the room. She pointedly closed the door on Turese. “Mother,” she said, curtsying. The slender woman was wearing a tight gray dress which pulled a little too obviously across her ample chest. Had she been scheduled for a dinner with Elaida this evening? “I am sorry to keep you waiting.”
Egwene waved dismissively. “How did you get past Turese?”
“It is known that Elaida . . . favors me with visits,” she said. “And Tower law says that no prisoner can be forbidden visitors. She could not stop a sister from wishing to visit a simple novice, though she did try to make a point of arguing it.”
Egwene nodded, and Meidani glanced at Verin, frowning. Then she paled. Verin’s features had grown waxy and dull, and it was obvious that something was wrong. It was a good thing that Turese had never looked closely at the “sleeping” woman.
“Verin Sedai is dead,” Egwene said, glancing at the door.
“Mother?” Meidani asked. “What happened? Were you attacked?”
“Verin Sedai was poisoned by a Darkfriend shortly before her conversation with me. She was aware of the poison, and came to pass on some important information to me during her last moments.” It was incredible what a few true statements could conceal.
“Light!” Meidani said. “A murder inside the White Tower? We have to tell someone! Gather the guard and—”
“It will be dealt with,” Egwene said firmly. “Keep your voice down and pull yourself together. I don’t want the guard outside to hear what we are saying.”
Meidani paled, then looked at Egwene, likely wondering how she could be so callous. Good. Let her see the colle
cted, determined Amyrlin. As long as she didn’t see a hint of the grief, confusion and anxiety inside.
“Yes, Mother.” Meidani curtsied. “Of course. I apologize.”
“Now, you bring news, I assume?”
“Yes, Mother,” Meidani said, composing herself. “Saerin instructed me to come to you. She said you would need to know of the day’s events.”
“And I do,” Egwene said, trying not to show her impatience. Light, but she’d already been able to figure out that part. Couldn’t the woman get on with it? There were Black Ajah to deal with!
“Elaida is still Amyrlin,” Meidani said, “but only by a hair. The Hall of the Tower met and censured her formally. They informed Elaida that the Amyrlin was not an absolute ruler, and that she couldn’t continue to make decrees and demands without consulting them.”
Egwene nodded. “Not an unexpected turn,” she said. More than one Amyrlin had become only a figurehead because she’d overextended herself in a similar way. It was what Elaida had been heading for, and that would have been satisfactory, had these not been the end of days. “What of penance?”
“Three months,” Meidani said. “One for what she did to you. Two for behavior unbecoming her station.”
“Interesting,” Egwene said, thoughtful.
“There were some who called for more, Mother. It seemed that for a moment she might be deposed right there.”
“You were watching?” Egwene asked with surprise.
Meidani nodded. “Elaida asked for the proceedings to be Sealed to the Flame, but she gained no support in the move. I think that her own Ajah was behind that, Mother. All three of the Red’s Sitters are out of the Tower. I still wonder where Duhara and the others went.”
Duhara. A Black. What is she up to? And the other two? Were the three together, and if so, could the other two be Black as well?
She’d have to address that later. “How did Elaida take all of this?”
“She didn’t say much, Mother,” Meidani said. “She sat and watched, mostly. She didn’t look very pleased; I was surprised she didn’t start ranting.”
“The Reds,” Egwene said. “If she is really losing support in her own Ajah, they’d have warned her ahead of time not to make more waves.”
“That was Saerin’s assessment as well,” Meidani replied. “She also noted that your own insistence that the Red Ajah not be allowed to fall—spread by a group of novices who overheard you—was part of what kept Elaida from being deposed.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind her deposed,” Egwene said. “I just didn’t want the entire Ajah disbanded. Still, this might be for the best. Elaida’s fall has to come in a way that doesn’t tear the Tower down with her.” Though, if Egwene could do it again, she might retract those words said earlier. She didn’t want anyone to think that Egwene had been supporting Elaida. “I assume that Silviana’s sentence has been dismissed?”
“Not completely, Mother,” Meidani said. “She is being held as the Hall decides what to do to her. She still defied the Amyrlin in a very public way, and there is talk of penance.”
Egwene frowned. It smelled of a compromise; Elaida had probably met in closed conference with the head of the Red Ajah—whoever that was, now that Galina had vanished—hashing out the details. Silviana would still be punished, although not as strongly, but Elaida would submit to the will of the Hall. It indicated that Elaida was on shaky ground, but that she could still make demands. Her support wasn’t as completely eroded within her own Ajah as Egwene had hoped.
Still, this was a fortunate turn of events. Silviana would live, and Egwene—it appeared—would be allowed to return to her life as a “novice.” The Sitters were displeased enough with Elaida to reprimand her. Given just a little more time, Egwene was confident she could get the woman overturned and the Tower reunited. But dare she spend that time?
She glanced at the table, where the precious books lay hidden from eyes. If she staged a mass assault on the Black Ajah, would that precipitate a battle? Would she destabilize the Tower even further? And could she realistically hope to strike at all of them like that? She needed time to consider the information. For now, that meant staying in the Tower and working against Elaida. And, unfortunately, that meant letting most of the Black sisters run free.
But not all of them. “Meidani,” Egwene said. “I want you to report to the others. They must take Alviarin into captivity and test her with the Oath Rod. Tell them to take any reasonable risk to achieve it.”
“Alviarin, Mother?” Meidani asked. “Why her?”
“She’s Black,” Egwene said, stomach turning. “And near the head of their organization in the Tower. This was the information Verin died to bring me.”
Meidani paled. “Are you certain, Mother?”
“I’m confident in Verin’s trustworthiness,” Egwene said. “But it would still be advisable to have others remove, then replace, Alviarin’s oaths and ask her if she’s Black. Every woman should be given that chance to prove herself, no matter the evidence. You have the Oath Rod, I assume?”
“Yes,” Meidani said. “We needed it to prove Nicola’s trustworthiness; the others wanted to bring some Accepted and novices in, as they can run messages where sisters cannot go.”
It was wise, considering the divisions among the Ajahs. “Why her?”
“Because of how often she speaks to the others about you, Mother,” Meidani said. “It’s well known that she’s one of your greatest advocates among the novices.”
It was odd to hear that of a woman who had effectively betrayed her, but the girl couldn’t really be blamed for that, all things considered.
“They didn’t let her swear all three oaths, of course,” Meidani said. “She’s not Aes Sedai. But she did take the oath about lying and proved herself not a Darkfriend. They removed the oath after.”
“And you, Meidani?” Egwene asked. “Have they removed the fourth oath from you?”
The woman smiled. “Yes, Mother. Thank you.”
Egwene nodded. “Go, then. Pass on my message. Alviarin must be taken.” She glanced at Verin’s body. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to take her with you as well. It will be better if she vanishes, as opposed to my having to explain her death in my room.”
“But—”
“Use a gateway,” Egwene said. “Skim if you don’t know the area well enough.”
Meidani nodded, then Embraced the Source.
“Weave something else, first,” Egwene said thoughtfully. “It doesn’t matter what; something that requires a lot of power. Perhaps one of the hundred weaves one takes in the test to become Aes Sedai.”
Meidani frowned, but did as asked, weaving something very complicated and power-intensive. Soon after she began, Turese poked her head into the room suspiciously. The weave blocked her sight of Verin’s face, fortunately, but Turese wasn’t focused on the “sleeping” Brown. She focused on the weave, opening her mouth.
“She is showing me some of the weaves I will need to know if I take the test to become Aes Sedai,” Egwene said curtly, cutting off Turese’s words. “Is that forbidden?”
Turese glared at her, but pulled the door shut and withdrew.
“That was to prevent her from poking in and seeing the weaves for gateways,” Egwene said. “Quickly now. Take the body. When Turese looks in again, I will tell her the truth—that you and Verin left through a gateway.”
Meidani glanced at Verin’s corpse. “But what should we do with the body?”
“Whatever seems appropriate,” Egwene said, growing testy. “I’ll leave that to you. I don’t have the time to deal with it now. And take that cup with you; the tea is poisoned. Dispose of it carefully.”
Egwene glanced at her flickering candle; it was burned nearly all the way down to the table itself. To the side, Meidani sighed softly, then created a gateway. Weaves of Air moved Verin’s body in through the opening, and Egwene watched her go with a pang of regret. The woman had deserved better. Someday, it would be known what
she had suffered and what she had accomplished. But not for a time yet.
Once Meidani was gone with the corpse and the tea, Egwene lit another candle, then lay down on her bed, trying not to think of the body that had occupied it previously. She relaxed herself, thinking of Siuan. The woman would be going to sleep soon. She needed to be warned about Sheriam and the others.
Egwene opened her eyes in Tel’aran’rhiod. She was in her room, or at least the dream version of it. The bed was made, the door closed. She changed her dress to that of a stately green gown fitting an Amyrlin, then moved herself to the Tower’s Spring Garden. Siuan wasn’t there yet, but it was probably still a little early for their meeting.
Here, at least, one could see none of the filth that piled up in the city or the corruption that worked at the roots of Ajah unity. The Tower gardeners moved like natural forces, planting, cultivating, and harvesting as Amyrlins rose and fell. The Spring Garden was smaller than most of the other Tower gardens; it was a triangular plot of land pressed between two walls. Perhaps in another city, this plot would have been used for storage or simply filled in with stone. But in the White Tower, both options would have been unsightly.
The solution was a small garden full of plants that thrived in the shade. Hydrangeas ran up the walls and surged around planters. Bleeding hearts sat in rows, with their tiny pink blossoms drooping from delicate three-pronged compound leaves. Flowering bristleboughs, with their thin, fingerlike leaves, and other small shade trees ran along the insides of the triangular walls, meeting in a single point.
Walking up and down the lines of trees as she waited, Egwene thought of Sheriam being Black. How many things had the woman had a hand in? She’d been Mistress of Novices for years during Siuan’s tenure as Amyrlin. Had she used her position to bully, perhaps to turn, other sisters? Had she been behind the attack of the Gray Man so long ago?
Sheriam had been part of the group that Healed Mat. Surely she could have done nothing malicious while in a circle with so many other women—but anything involving the woman was suspect. That was so much! Sheriam had been one of those in charge of Salidar before Egwene’s rise to power. What had Sheriam done, how much manipulation had she exerted then, how much had she betrayed to the Shadow?