Holding her breath, she grabbed it. Blessedly, the Source didn’t leave her. Mellar had escaped with the copy, it seemed, but she still had the original.

She sighed, allowing herself to sit back against the cold stone wall. She wanted to lapse into unconsciousness, but forced herself to tuck away the medallion, then remain awake until Birgitte appeared in the hallway. The Warder panted heavily from having run, her red coat and golden braid wet with rainwater.

Mat stepped down into the hallway after her, wearing a scarf up around his face, his wet brown hair plastered to his head. His eyes darted from side to side, a quarterstaff held at guard.

Birgitte knelt by Elayne’s side. “Are you all right?” she asked urgently.

Elayne nodded in exhaustion. “I got myself out of this one.” In a way. “Did you happen to do the world a favor and kill Mellar on your way in?”

“Mellar?” Birgitte asked, alarmed. “No. Elayne, there’s blood on your dress!”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Really, I’ve been Healed.”

So Mellar was free. “Quickly,” she said. “Search the hallways. The Guards and the Kin who were guarding this place—”

“We found them,” Birgitte said. “Stuffed into the bottom of the stairwell. Dead. Elayne, what happened?” To the side, Mat poked at Temaile’s corpse, noting the dagger wound in her chest.

Elayne pressed her hands to her abdomen. Her babes would be all right, wouldn’t they? “I did something very rash, Birgitte, and I know that you are going to scream at me for it. But would you first please take me to my rooms? I think we should have Melfane look at me. Just in case.”

An hour after the failed assassination attempt on Egwene, Gawyn stood alone in a small room that was part of the Amyrlin’s chambers. He’d been released from the weaves that had held him, then told to stay put.

Egwene finally strode into the room. “Sit,” she said.

He hesitated, but her fierce eyes could have set candles aflame. He sat down on the stool. This small room held several dressers and trunks for clothing. The doorway led out to the larger sitting room where he’d been captured in weaves; a doorway off of that room led to Egwene’s bedchamber.

Egwene shut the door, sequestering the two of them from the many guards, Warders and Aes Sedai milling about in the rooms outside. Their conversations made a low hum through the door. Egwene still wore red and gold, and she had golden threads woven into her dark hair. Her cheeks were flushed with anger at him. That made her even more beautiful than usual.

“Egwene, I—”

“Do you realize what you have done?”

“I checked to see if the woman I love was safe, following the discovery of an assassin outside her door.”

She folded her arms beneath her breasts. He could almost feel the heat of her anger. “Your yelling has drawn half of the White Tower. They saw you captured. The assassin probably knows, now, about my weaves.”