Towers of Midnight (The Wheel of Time #13)

Towers of Midnight (The Wheel of Time #13) Page 164

“I need to know the way out!” Perrin said. “We have to return to the city.”

She met his eyes. “He’s coming,” she hissed. Her hand slipped from his and she ran, vanishing into the night, the darkness enfolding her like a shroud. Perrin took a step forward, hand outstretched.

He heard something behind him. He turned slowly to find something enormous. A looming shadow that sucked in the moonlight. The thing seemed to draw breath away, absorbing his very life and will.

The thing reared up taller. It was taller than the trees, a hulking monster with arms as thick as barrels, its face and body lost in shadow. It opened deep red eyes, like two huge coals flaring to life.

I need to fight it! Perrin thought, hammer appearing in his hand. He took a step forward, then thought better of it. Light! That thing was enormous. He couldn’t fight it, not out in the open like this. He needed cover.

He turned and ran through the hostile woods. The thing followed. He could hear it snapping branches, its footsteps making the earth shake. Ahead of him, he saw the woman, her thin white gown slowing her as it caught on a branch. She pulled free and continued to run.

The creature loomed. It would catch him, consume him, destroy him! He yelled for the woman, reaching out toward her. She glanced over her shoulder at him, and tripped.

Perrin cursed. He scrambled to her side, to help her up. But the thing was so close!

It was a fight, then. His heart was thumping as quickly as a woodlark pecking a tree. Hands sweaty, he turned, gripping his hammer to face the terrible thing behind. He placed himself between it and the woman.

It reared up, growing larger, those red eyes blazing with fire. Light! He couldn’t fight that, could he? He needed an edge of some kind. “What is that thing?” he desperately asked of the woman. “Why does it chase us?”

“It’s him,” she hissed. “The Dragon Reborn.”

Perrin froze. The Dragon Reborn. But…but that was Rand. It’s a nightmare, he reminded himself. None of this is real. I can’t let myself be caught up in it!

The ground trembled, as if moaning. He could feel the heat of the monster’s eyes. A scrambling sound came from behind as the woman ran, leaving him.

Perrin stood up, legs shaking, every instinct crying for him to run. But no. He couldn’t fight it, either. He could not accept this as real.

A wolf howled, then leaped into the clearing. Hopper seemed to push back the darkness. The creature bent down toward Perrin, reaching a massive hand as if to crush him.

This was an alley.

Inside of Caemlyn.

It wasn’t real.

It was not.

The darkness around them faded. The enormous dark shadow creature warped in the air, like a piece of cloth being stretched. The moon vanished. A small pocket of ground—the dirty, trampled earth of an alley—appeared at their feet.

Then, with a snap, the dream was gone. Perrin stood in the alley again, Hopper at his side, no sign of the forest or the terrible creature that someone had viewed as the Dragon Reborn.

Perrin exhaled slowly. Sweat dripped from his brow. He reached up to wipe it away, then willed the sweat away instead.

Hopper vanished, and Perrin followed, finding himself on the same rooftop as before. He sat down. Merely thinking of that shadow made him shiver. “It felt so real,” he said. “A piece of me knew it was a nightmare. I couldn’t help but try to fight, or try to run. When I did either, it grew stronger, didn’t it? Because I accepted it was real?”

Yes. You must not believe what you see.

Perrin nodded. “There was a woman in there. Part of the dream? She wasn’t real either?”

Yes.

“Maybe she was the one who dreamed it,” Perrin said. “The one having the original nightmare, caught up in it and trapped here in the World of Dreams.”

Men who dream do not stay here long, Hopper sent. To him, that was the end of the discussion. You were strong, Young Bull. You did well. He smelled proud.

“It helped when she called the thing the Dragon Reborn. That showed it wasn’t real. Helped me believe it wasn’t.”

You did well, foolish cub, Hopper repeated. Perhaps you can learn.

“Only if I keep practicing. We need to do that again. Can you find another?”

Yes, Hopper sent. There are always nightmares when your kind is near. Always. The wolf turned northward again, however. Perrin had thought that the thing that had been distracting him earlier was the dreams, but it didn’t seem to have been the case.

“What is up there?” Perrin asked. “What is it you keep looking toward?”

It comes, Hopper sent.

“What?”

The Last Hunt. It begins. Or it does not.

Perrin frowned, standing. “You mean…right now?”

The decision will be made. Soon.

“What decision?” Hopper’s sendings were confusing, and he couldn’t decipher them. Light and darkness, a void and fire, a coldness and a terrible, terrible heat. Mixed with wolves howling, calling, lending strength.

Come. Hopper stood, looking to the northeast.

Hopper vanished. Perrin shifted after him, appearing low down on the slopes of the Dragonmount, beside an outcropping of stone.

“Light,” Perrin said softly, looking up in awe. The storm that had been brewing for months had come to a head. A massive black thunderhead dominated the sky, covering the top of the mountain. It spun slowly in the air, an enormous vortex of blackness, emitting bolts of lightning that connected to the clouds above. In other parts of the wolf dream the clouds were tempestuous, yet distant. This felt immediate.

This was…the focus of something. Perrin could feel it. Often, the wolf dream reflected things in the real world in strange or unexpected ways.

Hopper stood on the outcropping. Perrin could feel wolves all across the slopes of Dragonmount. In even greater numbers than he’d felt here recently.

They wait, Hopper said. The Last Hunt comes.

As Perrin reached out, he found that other packs were coming, still distant but moving toward Dragonmount. Perrin looked upward at the monstrous peak. The tomb of the Dragon, Lews Therin. It was a monument to his madness, to both his failure and his success. His pride and his self-sacrifice.

“The wolves,” Perrin said. “They gather for the Last Hunt?”

Yes. If it occurs.

Perrin turned back to Hopper. “You said that it would. ‘The Last Hunt comes