“You tell Nynaeve from me that she had best hold her temper, or I’ll have some words to say to her that she will not like.” Elayne looked startled—Nynaeve had certainly not told her what had passed between them—and Egwene added, “If she channels, you can be sure Elaida will hear of it as soon as a pigeon can fly to Tar Valon.” She could not say more; as it was, it brought another exchange of glances between Amys and Bair. What they really thought of a Tower divided, and an Amyrlin who as far as they knew had given orders for Aes Sedai to be drugged, they had never let on. They could make Moiraine look like the village gossip when they wished. “In fact, I wish I had both of you alone. If we were in the Tower, in our old rooms, I’d say a few words to the pair of you.”

Elayne stiffened, as queenly and cool as she had been with Bair. “You may say them to me whenever you wish.”

Had she understood? Alone; away from the Wise Ones. In the Tower. Egwene could only hope. Best to change the subject and hope the Wise Ones were not picking over her words as carefully as she hoped that Elayne was. “Will this fight with Latelle cause problems?” What had Nynaeve been thinking of? Back home, she would have had any woman her age who did the same up before the Women’s Circle so fast that her eyes would pop. “You must be almost to Ghealdan by now.”

“Three more days, Luca says, if we are lucky. The menagerie does not move very fast.”

“Perhaps you should leave them now.”

“Perhaps,” Elayne said slowly. “I really would like to highwalk just once in front of . . .” With a shake of her head, she glanced at Callandor; the neckline of her gown dipped precipitously, then rose again. “I do not know, Egwene. We could not travel much faster alone than we are traveling, and we don’t know where to go exactly, yet.” That meant Nynaeve had not remembered where the Blues were gathering. If Elaida’s report had been right. “Not to mention that Nynaeve might burst if we had to abandon the wagon and buy saddle horses, or another coach. Besides, we are both learning a great deal about the Seanchan. Cerandin served as a s’redit handler at the Court of the Nine Moons, where the Seanchan Empress sits. Yesterday she showed us things that she took when she fled Falme. Egwene, she had an a’dam.”

Egwene stepped forward, her skirts brushing Callandor. Rand’s traps were not physical, whatever Nynaeve seemed to think. “Can you be sure she was not a sul’dam?” Her voice trembled with anger.

“I am certain,” Elayne said soothingly. “I put the a’dam on her myself, and it had no effect.”