Chapters (69)
- Cover
- Praise for Robert Jordan’s
- THE FIRESOFHEAVEN
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Map
- PROLOGUE
- CHAPTER1
- CHAPTER2
- CHAPTER3
- CHAPTER4
- CHAPTER5
- CHAPTER6
- CHAPTER7
- CHAPTER8
- CHAPTER9
- CHAPTER10
- CHAPTER11
- CHAPTER12
- CHAPTER13
- CHAPTER14
- CHAPTER15
- CHAPTER16
- CHAPTER17
- CHAPTER18
- CHAPTER19
- CHAPTER20
- CHAPTER21
- CHAPTER22
- CHAPTER23
- CHAPTER24
- CHAPTER25
- CHAPTER26
- CHAPTER27
- CHAPTER28
- CHAPTER29
- CHAPTER30
- CHAPTER31
- CHAPTER32
- CHAPTER33
- CHAPTER34
- CHAPTER35
- CHAPTER36
- CHAPTER37
- CHAPTER38
- CHAPTER39
- CHAPTER40
- CHAPTER41
- CHAPTER42
- CHAPTER43
- CHAPTER44
- CHAPTER45
- CHAPTER46
- CHAPTER47
- CHAPTER48
- CHAPTER49
- CHAPTER50
- CHAPTER51
- CHAPTER52
- CHAPTER53
- CHAPTER54
- CHAPTER55
- CHAPTER56
- GLOSSARY
- Excerpt: Lord of Chaos
- PROLOGUE
- Tor Books by Robert Jordan
- About the Author
- Newsletter Sign-up
“It does not matter,” she said dismissively, and concentrated her gaze on him, fists on her hips. “You attracted my interest, Mat Cauthon, before you gave me a regard-gift. Not that I will give up the spear for you, of course, but I have had my eye on you for days. You have a smile like a boy about to do mischief. I like that. And those eyes.” In the failing light her grin was slow and wide. And warm. “I do like your eyes.”
Mat tugged his hat straight, though it had not been crooked. From pursuer to pursued, in the blink of an eye. It could happen like that, with Aiel women. Especially Maidens. “Does ‘Daughter of the Nine Moons’ mean anything to you?” It was a question he asked women sometimes. The wrong answer would send him out of Rhuidean tonight if he had to try walking out of the Waste.
“Nothing,” she said. “But there are things I like to do by moonlight.” Putting an arm around his shoulder, she took off his hat and began to whisper in his ear. In no time at all he was grinning even more widely than she.
CHAPTER
4
Twilight
With his Far Dareis Mai escort, Rand approached the Rhuidean Roof of the Maidens. White stairs as wide as the tall building, each step a stride deep, ran up to thick columns twenty paces high, black-seeming in the twilight but bright blue by day, and fluted in spirals. The outside of the building was a patterned mosaic of glazed tiles, white and blue in spirals that appeared endless to the eye, and a huge window of colored glass directly above the columns showed a black-haired woman fifteen feet tall, in complicated blue robes, right hand upraised, either to bless or command a halt. Her face was serene and stern at the same time. Whoever she had been, she was surely no Aiel, not with that pale skin and those dark eyes. An Aes Sedai, perhaps. He tapped his pipe out on his bootheel and stuffed it into his coat pocket before starting up the steps.
Except for gai’shain, men were not allowed beneath a Roof of the Maidens, not any man, not in any hold in the Waste. A chief or a Maiden’s blood kin could die trying, though in fact no Aielman would ever think of it. It was the same for any society; only members and the gai’shain were allowed inside.