What is real is not real. What is not real is real. Flesh is a dream, and dreams have flesh.

“That doesn’t tell me anything, Hopper. I do not understand.” The wolf looked at him, as if he had said he did not understand that water was wet. “You said I had to see something, and you showed me Ba’alzamon, and Lanfear.”

Heartfang. Moonhunter.

“Why did you show me, Hopper? Why did I have to see them?”

The Last Hunt comes. Sadness filled the sending, and a sense of inevitability. What will be must be.

“I do not understand! The Last Hunt? What Last Hunt? Hopper, Gray Men came to kill me tonight.”

The Notdead hunt you?

“Yes! Gray Men! After me! And a Darkhound was right outside the inn! I want to know why they’re after me.”

Shadowbrothers! Hopper crouched, looking to either side as if he almost expected an attack. Long since we have seen the Shadowbrothers. You must go, Young Bull. Great danger! Flee the Shadowbrothers!

“Why are they after me, Hopper? You do know. I know you do!”

Flee, Young Bull. Hopper leaped, forepaws hitting Perrin’s chest, knocking him back, over the edge. Flee the Shadowbrothers.

The wind rushed in his ears as he fell. Hopper and the edge of the spire top dwindled above him. “Why, Hopper?” he shouted. “I have to know why!”

The Last Hunt comes.

He was going to hit. He knew it. The ground below rushed up at him, and he tensed against the crushing impact that. . . .

He started awake, staring at the candle flickering on the small table beside the bed. Lightning flashes lit the window, and thunder rattled it. “What did he mean, the Last Hunt?” he mumbled. I did not light any candle.

“You talk to yourself. And thrash in your sleep.”

He jumped, and cursed himself for not having noticed the herbal scent in the air. Zarine sat on a stool at the edge of the candlelight, elbow on her knee, chin on her fist, watching him.

“You are ta’veren,” she said as if ticking off a point. “Stone-face thinks those odd eyes of yours can see things his can’t. Gray Men want to kill you. You travel with an Aes Sedai, a Warder, and an Ogier. You free caged Aiel and kill Whitecloaks. Who are you, farmboy, the Dragon Reborn?” Her voice said that was the most ridiculous thing she could think of, but he still shifted uneasily. “Whoever you are, big man,” she added, “you could do with a little more hair on your chest.”