Towers of Midnight (The Wheel of Time #13)

Towers of Midnight (The Wheel of Time #13) Page 246

“But where are you going?” Perrin asked.

“Suppose I should explain it,” Mat said. “That was the reason for meeting with you, aside from the amiable discourse and all.” He leaned in. “Perrin, Moiraine is alive.”

“What?”

“It’s true,” Mat said. “Or, well, we think it is. She sent Thom a letter, claiming she’d foreseen the battle with Lanfear, and knew that she would…Well, anyway, there’s this tower west of here on the River Arinelle. It’s made all of metal. It—”

“The Tower of Ghenjei,” Perrin said softly. “Yes, I know of it.”

Mat blinked. “You do? Burn me. When did you get to be a scholar?”

“I’ve merely heard some things. Mat, that place is evil.”

“Well, Moiraine is inside,” Mat said. “Captured. I mean to get her back. I have to beat the snakes and the foxes. Bloody cheats.”

“Snakes and foxes?” Perrin said.

Thom nodded. “The children’s game is named after the things that live in the tower. So we think.”

“I’ve seen them,” Mat said. “And…well, there’s really not time for that now.”

“If you’re going to rescue her,” Perrin said, “perhaps I could come. Or at least send one of the Asha’man.”

“I’ll take a gateway gladly,” Mat said. “But you can’t come, Perrin. Moiraine explained it in her letter. Only three can come, and I know already who they have to be.” He hesitated. “Olver is going to bloody kill me for not taking him, you know.”

“Mat,” Perrin said, shaking his head. “You’re not making any sense.”

Mat sighed. “Let me tell you the whole story, then.” He eyed the pitcher of ale. “We’re going to need more of that, and you’d better tell Grady you’ll be some time yet…”

Chapter 48

Near Avendesora

Aviendha took one final step and was out of the forest of glass pillars. She took a deep breath, then glanced back at the path she had taken.

The central plaza of Rhuidean was an awe-inspiring sight. Smooth white flagstones carpeted the entire square save for the absolute center. There stood an enormous tree, branches spread wide like arms reaching to embrace the sun. The massive tree had a perfection she could not explain. It had a natural symmetry—no missing branches, no gaping holes in its leafy upper reaches. It was particularly impressive since, when she’d last seen it, it had been blackened and burned.

In a world where other plants were dying without explanation, this one healed and flourished faster than ever should have been possible. Its leaves rustled soothingly in the wind, and its gnarled roots poked through the ground like the aged fingers of a wise elder. The tree made her want to sit and bask in the simple peace of the moment.

It was as if this tree were the ideal, the one after which all other trees were patterned. In legend it was called Avendesora. The Tree of Life.

To the side sat the glass columns. There were dozens of them, perhaps hundreds, forming concentric rings. Spindly and thin, they reached high into the sky. As purely—even superlatively—natural as Avendesora was, these columns were equally unnatural. They were so thin and tall, logic said that the first gust of wind should have toppled them. It wasn’t that they were aberrant, merely artificial.

When she had first entered days before, there had been gai’shain in white carefully picking up fallen leaves and twigs. They had retreated as soon as they had seen her. Was she the first to go through the glass pillars since Rhuidean’s transformation? Her own clan had sent no one, and she was certain she would have heard of it if the others had.

That left only the Shaido, but they had rejected Rand’s claims about the Aiel past. Aviendha suspected that if any Shaido had come, they would not have been able to bear what was shown here. They would have passed into the center of the glass columns and never returned.

That had not been the case for Aviendha. She had survived. Indeed, everything she’d seen had been expected. Almost disappointingly so.

She sighed, walking over to Avendesora’s trunk, then looking up through its web of branches.

Once, this plaza had been cluttered with other ter’angreal; this was where Rand had first discovered the access keys he had used to cleanse saidin. That wealth of ter’angreal was gone now; Moiraine had claimed many pieces for the White Tower, and the Aiel who lived here must have taken the others away. That left only the tree, the columns and the three rings that women went through on their first trip here, the trip that made them apprentice Wise Ones.

She remembered some of her trip through those rings, which had showed her life—her many possible lives—to her. Really, only bits and pieces remained in her memory. Her knowledge that she would love Rand, that she would have sister-wives. Included in that knowledge was the impression that she’d return here, to Rhuidean. She had known, though only stepping into this courtyard again had sparked some of those memories to life in her mind.

She sat down cross-legged between two of the great tree’s roots. The soft wind was soothing, the air dry and familiar, the dusty scent of the Three-fold Land reminding her of her childhood.

Her trip through the columns had certainly been immersive. She had expected to see the origins of the Aiel, perhaps witness the day when they had—as a people—decided to take up the spears and fight. She’d anticipated a noble decision, where honor overcame the inferior lifestyle dictated by the Way of the Leaf.

She had been surprised to see how mundane—almost accidental—the true event had been. No grand decision; only a man who had been unwilling to let his family be murdered. There was honor in wanting to defend others, but he had not approached his decision with honor.

She rested her head back against the trunk of the tree. The Aiel did deserve their punishment in the Three-fold Land, and they did have toh—as a people—to the Aes Sedai. She had seen everything she had expected. But many of the things she had been hoping to learn had been absent. Aiel would continue to visit this place for centuries, as they had for centuries. And each of them would learn something that was now common knowledge.

That bothered her deeply.

She looked upward, watching branches quiver in the breeze, several leaves falling and drifting down toward her. One passed her face, brushing her cheek befor