Min helped him to his feet. “Rand,” she said softly. “Cadsuane returned, and she had someone with her.”

He hesitated. “Take me to her.”

Min winced. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it. You should rest.”

“I will,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

She could still sense his exhaustion. But she didn’t argue. They walked from the room. “Rodel Ituralde,” Rand said, pausing by the doorway. “You will wish to accompany me. I cannot repay you for the honor you have shown, but I do have something I can give.”

The grizzled Domani nodded, following. Min helped Rand down the corridor, worrying about him. Did he have to push himself this hard?

Unfortunately, he does. Rand al’Thor was the Dragon Reborn. He’d be bled dry, ground down, used up before this was through. It was almost enough to make a woman stop trying.

“Rand…” she said, Ituralde and several Maidens trailing them. Fortunately, Cadsuane’s room wasn’t far.

“I will be all right,” he said. “I promise. Have you news of your studies?” He was trying to distract her.

Unfortunately, that question just sent her to another worry. “Have you ever wondered why Callandor is so often called a ‘fearful blade’ or ‘the blade of ruin’ in the prophecies?”

“It’s such a powerful sa’angreal,” he said. “Maybe it’s because of the destruction it can cause?”

“Maybe,” she said.

“You think it’s something else.”

“There’s a phrase,” Min said, “in the Jendai Prophecy. I wish we knew more of them. Anyway, it says ‘and the Blade will bind him by twain.’”

“Two women,” Rand said. “I need to be in a circle with two women to control it.”

She grimaced.

“What?” Rand said. “You might as well be out with it, Min. I need to know.”

“There’s another phrase, from The Karaethon Cycle. Anyway, I think that Callandor might be flawed beyond that. I think it might…Rand, I think it might make you weak, open you to attack, if you use it.”

“Perhaps that’s how I’ll be killed, then.”

“You aren’t going to be killed,” Min said.

“I—”

“You’ll live through this, sheepherder,” she insisted. “I’m going to see that you do.”

He smiled at her. He looked so tired. “I almost believe that you’ll do it, Min. Perhaps I’m not the one the Pattern bends around, but you.” He turned, then knocked on a door in the hallway.

It cracked, Merise peeking out. She looked Rand up and down. “You seem as if you can barely stand on your own feet, al’Thor.”

“True indeed,” he replied. “Is Cadsuane Sedai here?”

“She has done as you asked,” Merise replied. “And, I might say, she’s been very accommodating, considering how you—”

“Let him in, Merise,” Cadsuane’s voice said from inside.

Merise hesitated, then gave Rand a glare as she pulled the door open all the way. Cadsuane sat in a chair, speaking with an older man whose long, gray hair fell loose to his shoulders. He had a large beak of a nose and regal clothing.