Those two nights she did not return to the World of Dreams, but it was more exhaustion than anything else. Before that she had told herself every night she should stop—a fine thing if she was caught violating their strictures just when they were ready to lift them—but somehow she always decided that just a short trip would be all right, quick enough to reduce the chance of exposure. One thing she did avoid was the place between Tel’aran’rhiod and the waking world, the place where dreams floated. Especially she avoided it after she found herself thinking that if she was very careful she might be able to peek into Gawyn’s dreams without being drawn in, and that even if she was pulled in, it would only be a dream. She reminded herself firmly that she was a grown woman, not a silly girl. She was just glad no one else knew what a snarl the man made of her thoughts. Amys and Bair would laugh till they cried.

On the seventh night, she prepared herself for bed carefully, putting on a fresh shift and brushing her hair till it shone. All useless so far as Tel’aran’rhiod was concerned, but it kept her from thinking about how her stomach was doing backflips. Tonight it would be Aes Sedai waiting in the Heart of the Stone, not Nynaeve or Elayne. That should make no difference, unless. . . . The ivory-backed hairbrush froze in midstroke. Unless one of the Aes Sedai revealed that she was only Accepted. Why had she not thought of that before? Light, but she wished she could talk with Nynaeve and Elayne. Only, she could not see what good it would do, and she was certain that dream of breaking things meant something would go badly wrong if she did speak to them.

Chewing her lip, she considered going to Amys and telling her she was not feeling well. Nothing serious, just an upset stomach, but she did not think she could visit the dream tonight. They were going to start her lessons again after tonight’s meeting, but. . . . Another lie, and a coward’s way to boot. She would not be a coward. Not everyone could be as brave as everyone else, but cowardice was despicable. Whatever happened tonight, she had to make herself face it, and that was that.

Firmly she put down the brush, blew out the lamp and crawled onto her pallet. She was tired enough that falling asleep presented no problem, though if necessary she knew how to put herself to sleep at any time now, or enter a light trance where she could be in the World of Dreams and still talk—well, mumble—to someone waiting by her body. The last thing before sleep came, she realized something surprising. Her stomach was not turning over anymore.