They were all there, the seven from the Heart of the Stone, not a one looking ready for bed, though all but the young woman with Siuan’s name wore robes. From the way their chairs were pulled together, it seemed that Egwene had walked in on a discussion. Sheriam was the first to leap from her chair, waving Nildra out. “Light, child! Already?”

No one paid any mind at all to Nildra’s curtsy, or her put-upon sniff on going.

“We never expected,” Anaiya said, taking Egwene’s arms with a warm smile. “Not so soon. Welcome, child. Welcome.”

“Were there any ill effects?” Morvrin demanded. She had not risen, and neither had Carlinya or the young Aes Sedai, but Morvrin leaned forward intently. All the others’ robes were silk of various hues, sometimes brocaded or embroidered; hers was plain brown wool, though it did look soft and finely woven. “Do you feel any changes from the experience? We had precious little to go on. Frankly, I am surprised it worked.”

“We shall have to see it work to know how well it does.” Beonin paused for a sip of tea, then set cup and saucer down on a rickety-legged side table. The cup and saucer did not match, but then, none of the furniture matched, and most looked as lopsided as the small table. “If there are ill effects, she can be Healed, and they will be done with.”

Egwene stepped away from Anaiya quickly, setting her belongings beside the door. “No, I’m quite well. Really, I am.” She could have hesitated; Anaiya might well have Healed her without asking. That would have been cheating, though.

“She appears healthy enough,” Carlinya said coolly. Her hair really was short, dark curls barely covering her ears; it had not been just something she did in Tel’aran’rhiod. She wore white, of course; even the embroidery was white. “We can have one of the Yellows check her thoroughly later, to be sure, if need be.”

“Let her get her feet on the ground,” Myrelle said with a laugh. Lush flowers in yellow and red so covered her robe that hardly any green showed. “She’s just come a thousand leagues in a night. In hours.”

“You’ve no time to let her find her feet,” the young Aes Sedai put in firmly. She truly looked out of place in that gathering, in her yellow dress with the skirts slashed with blue and the deep round neckline blue-embroidered. That, and being the only one it was possible to put an age to. “Come morning, the Hall will swarm around her. If she’s not ready, Romanda will gut her like a fat carp.”

Egwene gaped. That voice registered more than the words. “You’re Siuan Sanche. No, it’s impossible!”

“Oh, it is possible, all right,” Anaiya said dryly, giving the young woman a long-suffering look.

“Siuan is Aes Sedai again.” Myrelle’s look was more exasperated than long-suffering.