Towers of Midnight (The Wheel of Time #13)

Towers of Midnight (The Wheel of Time #13) Page 72

There was no life in any of them. These weren’t corpses; they were husks. Fingers trembling, Nynaeve reached out and brushed the shoulder of the man at the high table. He immediately fell to powder, dust showering downward in a puff. The chair and floorboards underneath did not dissolve.

“There is nobody here to save,” Nynaeve said.

“Poor people,” Naeff said. “Light shelter their souls.”

Nynaeve often had trouble feeling pity for the Tairen nobles—of all the people she had met, they seemed among the most arrogant. But nobody deserved this. Besides, a large number of commoners had been caught in this bubble as well.

She and Naeff made their way out of the building, Nynaeve’s frustration mounting as she tugged on her braid. She hated feeling helpless. Like with the poor guard who had started the fire back at the manor house in Arad Doman, or the people who were struck down by strange diseases. The dusty husks this day. What was the good of learning to Heal if she couldn’t help people?

And now she had to leave. Go back to the White Tower. It felt like running away. She turned to Naeff. “Wind,” she said.

“Nynaeve Sedai?”

“Give the building a gust of wind, Naeff,” she said. “I want to see what happens.”

The Asha’man did as she asked, his invisible weaves blowing a jet of air. The entire building burst, shattering into dust that blew away, like the white seeds of a dandelion. Naeff turned to her.

“How wide did they say this bubble was?” she asked.

“About two streets wide in all directions.”

“We need more wind,” she said, beginning a weave. “Create a gust as large as you can. If there is anyone wounded in here, we’ll find them this way.”

Naeff nodded. The two of them strode forward, creating wind. They shattered buildings, causing them to burst and fall. Naeff was far more skilled at the process than she, but Nynaeve was stronger in the One Power. Together, they swept the crumbling buildings, stones and husks before them in a dust storm.

It was exhausting work, but they kept at it. She hoped—against reason—that she might find someone to help. Buildings fell before her and Naeff, the dust getting caught in swirling air. They pushed the dust in a circle, moving inward. Like a woman sweeping the floor.

They passed people frozen on the streets in midstride. Oxen pulling a cart. Heart-wrenchingly, some children playing in an alley. All fell to dust.

They found nobody alive. Eventually, she and Naeff had dissolved all of the broken part of the city and blown the dust into the center. Nynaeve looked at it, kept swirling in place by a small cyclone Naeff had woven. Curious, Nynaeve channeled a tongue of Fire into the cyclone, and the dust caught alight.

Nynaeve gasped; that dust went up like dried paper thrown into a fire, creating a roaring tempest of flames. She and Naeff backed away, but it was over in a flash. It didn’t leave any ash behind.

If we hadn’t gathered it, she thought, watching the fire fade away, someone might have dropped a candle on it. A fire like that…

Naeff stilled his winds. The two of them stood in the center of an open circle of bare earth with periodic holes for cellars. On the edges, buildings had been sliced into, rooms open to the air, some structures having collapsed. It was eerie, to see this hollow area. Like a gouged-out eye socket in an otherwise healthy face.

Several groups of Defenders stood at the perimeter. She nodded to Naeff, and they walked to the largest group. “You didn’t find anyone?” she demanded.

“No, Lady Aes Sedai,” a man said. “Er…well, we did find a few, but they were dead already.”

Another man nodded, a barrel-like fellow whose uniform was very tight. “Seems anyone who had even a toe inside of that ring fell dead. Found a few of them missing only a foot or part of their arm. But they were dead anyway.” The man shuddered visibly.

Nynaeve closed her eyes. The entire world was falling apart, and she was powerless to Heal it. She felt sick and angry.

“Maybe they caused it,” Naeff said softly. She opened her eyes to see him nodding toward the shadows of a building nearby. “The Fades. There are three of them there, Nynaeve Sedai, watching us.”

“Naeff…” she said, frustrated. Telling him the Fades weren’t real didn’t help. I have to do something, she thought. Help someone. “Naeff, stand still.” She took hold of his arm and Delved him. He looked at her, surprised, but didn’t object.

She could see the madness, like a dark network of veins digging into his mind. It seemed to pulse, like a small beating heart. She’d found similar corruption recently in other Asha’man. Her skill with Delving was improving, her weaves more refined, and she could find things once hidden to her. She had no idea how to fix what was wrong, though.

Anything should be Healable, she told herself. Anything but death itself. She concentrated, weaving all Five Powers, and carefully prodded at the madness, remembering what had happened when she’d removed the Compulsion from Graendal’s unfortunate servant. Naeff was better off with this madness than he would be if she damaged his mind further.

Oddly, the darkness did seem similar to Compulsion. Was that what the taint had done? Bent the men who used the One Power with the Dark One’s own Compulsion?

She carefully wove a counterweave opposite the madness, then laid it over Naeff’s mind. The weave just faded away, doing nothing.

She gritted her teeth. That should have worked. But, as seemed so common lately, it had failed.

No, she thought. No, I can’t just sit back. She Delved deeper. The darkness had tiny, thornlike projections stuck into Naeff’s mind. She ignored the people gathering around her, and inspected those thorns. She carefully used weaves of Spirit to pry one free.

It came out with some resistance, and she quickly Healed the spot where it had punctured Naeff’s flesh. The brain seemed to pulse, looking more healthy. One by one, she pried the others free. She was forced to maintain her weaves, holding the barbs back, lest they plunge down again. She began to sweat. She was already tired from sweeping the area clean, and no longer could spare concentration to keep the heat off her. Tear was so muggy.

She continued working, preparing another counterweave. Once she had pried up each and every thorn, she released her new weave. The dark patch undulated and shook, like something alive.

Then it vanished.

Nynaeve stumbled back, drained near to exhaustion. Naeff blinked, then looked around. He r