Egwene blinked in surprise. “Nynaeve, these are very complex weaves. I haven’t had time to memorize all of them; I swear that many are needlessly ornate simply to be difficult.” Egwene had no intention of going through the testing herself, and didn’t need to. The law was specific. By being made Amyrlin, she had become Aes Sedai. Things weren’t as clear in regards to Nynaeve and the others that Egwene had raised.

Nynaeve shrugged again. “The hundred testing weaves aren’t so bad. I could show them to you right here, if you wanted me to.”

“When have you had time to learn those?” Elayne exclaimed.

“I haven’t spent the last few months mooning about and dreaming of Rand al’Thor.”

“Securing the throne of Andor is not ‘mooning about’!”

“Nynaeve,” Egwene cut in, “if you truly have the weaves memorized, then being raised properly would help me a great deal. It would look less like I’m favoring my friends.”

“The testing is supposed to be dangerous,” Elayne said. “Are you sure you have the weaves in hand?”

“I’ll be fine,” Nynaeve said.

“Excellent,” Egwene said. “I’ll expect you here in the morning.”

“So soon!” Nynaeve said, aghast.

“The sooner you can hold that Oath Rod, the sooner I’ll be able to stop worrying about you. Elayne, we’ll still have to do something about you.”

“The pregnancy,” Elayne said. “It’s interfering with my ability to channel. That’s getting better—I could get here, thankfully—but it’s still a problem. Explain to the Hall it would be too dangerous for me—and for the babes—to undergo the testing while unable to channel consistently.”

“They might suggest you wait,” Nynaeve said.

“And let me run around without the oaths?” Elayne said. “Though I would like to know if anyone’s taken the oaths while pregnant before, just to be sure.”

“I’ll find what I can,” Egwene said. “Until then, I have another task for you.”

“I am rather busy with ruling Andor, Mother.”

“I know,” Egwene said. “Unfortunately, there’s nobody else I can ask. I need more dream ter’angreal.”

“I might be able to manage,” Elayne said. “Assuming I can start channeling reliably.”

“What happened to the dream ter’angreal you had?” Nynaeve asked Egwene.

“Stolen,” Egwene said. “By Sheriam—who, by the way, was Black Ajah.”

The two gasped, and Egwene realized that the revelation of the hundreds of Black sisters was unknown to them. She took a deep breath. “Steel yourselves,” she said. “I’ve got a painful story for you. Before the Seanchan attack, Verin came to—”

At that moment, the bell went off in her head again. Egwene willed herself to move. The room blinked around her, and she was suddenly standing outside in the hallway, where her wards were set.

She came face-to-face with Talva, a thin woman with a bun of golden hair. She had once been of the Yellow Ajah, but was one of the Black sisters who had fled the Tower.

Weaves of Fire sprang up around Talva, but Egwene had already begun working on a shield. She slammed it between the other woman and the Source, immediately weaving Air to snare her.