Nynaeve would not have cared if Nicola sprouted wings. She had just realized there was no inkpot on the table where the Aes Sedai took their meals, no sand bowl, no pen, no paper. None of what she would need. Had she been supposed to bring it? Delana was still staring at her. The woman never stared at anyone that long. She never stared at all unless she had a reason.

“Would you like cool mint tea?” Janya said, and it was Nynaeve’s turn to blink. “I do think tea is comforting. It smooths conversation, I always find.” Not waiting for an answer, the birdlike Brown sister began filling mismatched cups from a blue-striped teapot on the sideboard. A rock stood in place of one of the sideboard’s legs. Aes Sedai might have more room, but their furnishings were just as battered. “Delana and I decided our notes could wait for another time. We will just talk, instead. Honey? I prefer it without, myself. All that sweetness ruins the flavor. Young women always want their honey. Such wonderful things, you’ve been doing. You and Elayne.” A loud throat-clearing made her look at Delana questioningly. After a moment Janya said, “Ah. Yes.”

Delana had pulled one of the chairs from the table into the middle of the bare floor. One cane-bottomed chair. From the moment Janya mentioned conversation Nynaeve had known that that was not at all what was going to happen. Delana motioned to the chair, and Nynaeve took a seat on the very edge of it, accepted a cup on a chipped saucer from Janya with a murmured “Thank you, Aes Sedai.” She did not have long to wait.

“Tell us about Rand al’Thor,” Janya said. She appeared ready to say more, but Delana cleared her throat again; Janya blinked and fell silent, sipping her tea. They stood to either side of Nynaeve’s chair. Delana glanced at her, then sighed and channeled the third cup to herself. It floated across the room. Delana fixed on her again in that way that seemed to bore holes in your head, Janya apparently lost in thought and maybe not seeing her at all.

“I’ve told you everything I know,” Nynaeve sighed. “Well, told Aes Sedai, anyway.” She had, too. Nothing she knew could harm him—not any more than knowing what he was, anyway—and it might help if she could make the sisters see him as a man. Not a man who could channel; just a man. Not an easy task with the Dragon Reborn. “I don’t know any more.”

“Don’t sulk,” Delana snapped. “And don’t fidget.”

Nynaeve set her cup back in the saucer and wiped her wrist on her skirt.

“Child,” Janya said, her tone all compassion, “I know you think you’ve told all you know, but Delana. . . . I cannot think you would hold back on purpose—”