“Light,” Naeff said, stepping back. He knelt down, then tapped the board in front of him. It fell to dust, showering down into the dark cellar below.

Nynaeve wove Spirit, Air and Water to Delve the man sitting at the chair near her. Normally she would touch someone to Delve them, but she hesitated this time. It would work without touch, but would not be as effective for Healing.

Her Delving found nothing. No life, no sense that he had ever been alive. His body wasn’t even flesh. With a sinking feeling, she Delved other people in the darkened room. A serving maid carrying breakfast toward three Andoran merchants. A corpulent innkeeper, who must have had trouble navigating between the close-set tables. A woman in a rich dress sitting in the very back of the room, primly reading a small book.

There was no life in any of them. These weren’t corpses; they were husks. Fingers trembling, Nynaeve reached out and brushed the shoulder of the man at the high table. He immediately fell to powder, dust showering downward in a puff. The chair and floorboards underneath did not dissolve.

“There is nobody here to save,” Nynaeve said.

“Poor people,” Naeff said. “Light shelter their souls.”

Nynaeve often had trouble feeling pity for the Tairen nobles—of all the people she had met, they seemed among the most arrogant. But nobody deserved this. Besides, a large number of commoners had been caught in this bubble as well.

She and Naeff made their way out of the building, Nynaeve’s frustration mounting as she tugged on her braid. She hated feeling helpless. Like with the poor guard who had started the fire back at the manor house in Arad Doman, or the people who were struck down by strange diseases. The dusty husks this day. What was the good of learning to Heal if she couldn’t help people?

And now she had to leave. Go back to the White Tower. It felt like running away. She turned to Naeff. “Wind,” she said.

“Nynaeve Sedai?”

“Give the building a gust of wind, Naeff,” she said. “I want to see what happens.”

The Asha’man did as she asked, his invisible weaves blowing a jet of air. The entire building burst, shattering into dust that blew away, like the white seeds of a dandelion. Naeff turned to her.

“How wide did they say this bubble was?” she asked.

“About two streets wide in all directions.”

“We need more wind,” she said, beginning a weave. “Create a gust as large as you can. If there is anyone wounded in here, we’ll find them this way.”

Naeff nodded. The two of them strode forward, creating wind. They shattered buildings, causing them to burst and fall. Naeff was far more skilled at the process than she, but Nynaeve was stronger in the One Power. Together, they swept the crumbling buildings, stones and husks before them in a dust storm.

It was exhausting work, but they kept at it. She hoped—against reason—that she might find someone to help. Buildings fell before her and Naeff, the dust getting caught in swirling air. They pushed the dust in a circle, moving inward. Like a woman sweeping the floor.