The Gathering Storm

'I suspected as much,' Egwene said. She turned to a group of novices who were standing in a side corridor, pretending to scrub the tiles on the side wall while they gawked at Egwene.

'You,' Egwene said, pointing to one of them. 'Marsial, isn't it?'

'Yes, Mother,' the girl squeaked.

'Go and fetch us some forkroot tea. Katerine should have some at the study of the Mistress of Novices. It's not far. Tell her that Barasine requested it for use on me; bring it to my quarters.'

The novice scrambled off to do as asked.

'I'll dose myself with that, and then at least one of you can go,' Egwene said. 'Your Ajah is collapsing. They're going to need all of the clear minds they can get; maybe you can convince your sisters that it is unwise to let Elaida execute Silviana.'

The two Reds glanced at each other uncertainly. Then the spindly one whose name Egwene didn't know cursed softly and hurried away with a flurry of rustling skirts. Barasine called after her, but the woman didn't return.

Barasine glanced at Egwene, muttered something under her breath, but remained in place. 'We're waiting for that forkroot,' she said, staring Egwene in the eyes. 'Keep moving on to your quarters.'

'Fine,' Egwene said. 'But each minute you delay could cost you deeply.'

They climbed the stairs to the new novices' quarters, which were scrunched up alongside the remainder of the Brown section of the Tower. They stopped by Egwene's door to wait for the forkroot. As they stood there, novices began to crowd around. In the distant corridors, sisters and their Warders ran through hallways with a sense of urgency. Hopefully, the Hall would be able to do something to contain Elaida. If she really went so far as to execute sisters for simply disagreeing with her. . . .

The wide-eyed novice finally returned with a cup and a small packet of herbs. Barasine inspected the packet and apparently determined that it was satisfactory, for she dumped it into the cup and proffered it to Egwene expectantly. With a sigh, Egwene took it and downed the entire cup of warm water. It was enough of a dose that she wouldn't be able to channel a trickle, but hopefully wouldn't be strong enough to render her unconscious.

Barasine turned and hurried away, leaving Egwene alone in the hallway. Not just alone, but alone and able to do exactly as she wished. She didn't get many of these opportunities.

Well, she'd have to see what she could do with that. But first, she'd need to change out of this filthy, bloodstained dress, and wash herself, too. She pushed open the door to her quarters.

And found someone sitting inside.

'Hello, Egwene,' Verin said, taking a sip from a steaming cup of tea. 'My! I was beginning to wonder if I'd have to break into that cell of yours in order to speak with you.'

Egwene shook off her shock. Verin? When had the woman returned to the White Tower? How long had it been since Egwene had seen her? 'There isn't time right now, Verin,' she said, quickly opening the small locker that contained her extra dress. 'I have work to be about.'

'Hmm, yes,' Verin said, taking a calm sip of her tea. 'I suspect that you do. By the way, that dress you are wearing is green.'

Egwene frowned at the nonsense sentence, glancing down at her dress. Of course it wasn't green. What was Verin saying? Had the woman become—

She froze, glancing at Verin.

That had been a lie. Verin could speak lies.

'Yes, I thought that might get your attention,' Verin said, smiling. 'You should sit down. We have much to discuss and little time in which to do it.'

CHAPTER 39 A Visit from Verin Sedai

You never held the Oath Rod,' Egwene accused her, still standing by the closet. Verin remained on the side of the bed, sipping her tea. The stout woman wore a simple brown dress with a matronly cut through the bosom and a thick leather belt at the waist. The skirts were divided, and judging from the dirty boots peeking out from under the hem, she had only just arrived back in the White Tower.

'Don't be silly.' Verin brushed back a lock of hair that had escaped from her bun; the brown was marked with a pronounced streak of gray. 'Child, I held the Oath Rod and swore upon it before your grandmother was born.'

'Then you've had the Oaths removed,' Egwene said. It was possible with the Oath Rod—after all, Yukiri, Saerin and the others had removed their oaths and replaced them.

'Well, yes,' Verin said in a motherly way.

'I don't trust you,' Egwene found herself blurting. 'I don't think I ever have.'

'Very wise,' Verin said, sipping her tea. It was not a scent Egwene recognized. 'I am, after all, of the Black Ajah.'

Egwene felt a sudden chill, like an ice cold spike pounded directly through her back and down into her chest. Black Ajah. Verin was Black. Light!

Egwene immediately reached for the One Power. But of course the forkroot made that effort futile. And Egwene herself had been the one to suggest it be given to her! Light, had she taken leave of her senses? She'd been so confident and certain following her victory that she hadn't anticipated what might happen if she ran into a Black sister. But who could anticipate running into a Black sister? Finding one sitting calmly on your bed, drinking tea and looking at you with those eyes that always had seemed to know too much. What better way to hide than as an unassuming Brown, constantly dismissed by the other sisters because of your distracted, scholarly ways?

'My, but this is good tea,' Verin said. 'When you next see Laras, please thank her on my behalf for providing it. She promised that she had some that hadn't spoiled, but I didn't trust her. Can't trust much these days, can you?'

'What, is Laras a Darkfriend?' Egwene asked.

'Heavens, no,' Verin said. 'She's many things, but not a Darkfriend. You'd sooner find a Whitecloak marrying an Aes Sedai than find Laras swearing to the Great Lord. Extraordinary woman. And quite good at judging the flavor of teas.'

'What are you going to do with me?' Egwene said, forcing herself to speak calmly. If Verin had wanted to kill her, the deed would have been done by now. Obviously Verin wanted to use Egwene, and use would give Egwene opportunity. Opportunity for escape, opportunity to turn the situation around. Light, this was bad timing!

'Well,' Verin said, 'first I will ask you to sit. I would offer you some tea, but I sincerely doubt you want any of what I'm having.'

Think, Egwene! she told herself. Calling for help would be futile; only novices were likely to hear, as her Red keepers had both run off. Of all the times to be alone! She'd never have thought that she'd wish for jailers nearby.

Anyway, if she yelled, Verin would undoubtedly bind and gag her with weaves of Air. And if any novices did hear, they'd run to see what was the problem—and that would only pull them into Verin's clutches as well. So Egwene pulled over the room's single wooden stool and sat upon it, backside protesting the uncushioned wood.

The small room was still and quiet, cold and sterile, as it had been unoccupied for four days. Egwene sought furiously for an avenue of escape.

'I compliment you on what you've done here, Egwene,' Verin said.

'I've followed some little of the foolishness going on between the Aes Sedai factions, though I decided not to get involved personally. It was more important to continue my research and keep an eye on young alThor. He's a