At the head of the Windfinders was a tall, slender woman with narrow eyes and a long neck, numerous medallions on the fine chain connecting her nose to her left ear. That would be Shielyn, one of those Nynaeve had told Egwene about. The three other Windfinders included a dignified woman with white locks of hair woven among her black. That would be Renaile, according to the letters they’d sent and Nynaeve’s instruction. Egwene had been led to believe she’d be foremost among them, but she seemed subservient to the others. Had she lost her place as Windfinder to the Mistress of the Ships?

“Welcome,” Egwene said to them. “Please, sit.”

“We will stand,” Shielyn said. Her voice was tense.

“Who are these ones, Egwene al’Vere?” Amys asked. “Children should not be visiting Tel’aran’rhiod. It is not an abandoned sand-badger’s den to be explored.”

“Children?” Shielyn asked.

“You are children here, wetlander.”

“Amys, please,” Egwene cut in. “I lent them ter’angreal to come here. It was necessary.”

“We could have met outside the World of Dreams,” Bair said. “Choosing the middle of a battlefield might have been safer.”

Indeed, the Windfinders were very unfamiliar with the workings of Tel’aran’rhiod. Their bright clothing periodically changed colors—in fact, as Egwene watched, Renaile’s blouse vanished entirely. Egwene found herself blushing, though Elayne had mentioned that when on the waves, Sea Folk men and women both worked wearing not a stitch above the waist. The blouse was back a moment later. Their jewelry also seemed in almost constant flux.

“There are reasons I have done what I have done, Amys,” Egwene said, striding forward and seating herself. “Shielyn din Sabura Night Waters and her sisters have been told of the dangers of this place, and have accepted responsibility for their own safety.”

“A little like giving a firebrand and a cask of oil to a child,” Melaine muttered, “and claiming you’ve given him responsibility for his own safety.”

“Must we endure this squabbling, Mother?” Yukiri asked.

Egwene took a calming breath. “Please, you are leaders of your separate peoples, women with reputations for great wisdom and acuity. Can we not at least be civil with one another?” Egwene turned to the Sea Folk. “Windfinder Shielyn, you have accepted my invitation. Surely you will not now reject my hospitality by standing through the entire meeting?”

The woman hesitated. She had a proud air to her; recent interaction between the Aes Sedai and the Sea Folk had made her bold. Egwene shoved down a stab of anger; she did not like the details of the bargain regarding the Bowl of Winds. Nynaeve and Elayne should have known better. They—

No. Elayne and Nynaeve had done their best, and had been under unusual strain. Besides, bargaining with the Sea Folk was said to be only one step safer than bargaining with the Dark One himself.

Shielyn finally gave a curt nod, though her blouse changed colors several times while she considered, settling on crimson, and her jewelry kept vanishing and reappearing. “Very well. We are indebted to you for the gift of this place, and will agree to your hospitality.” She sat down in a chair apart from Egwene and the other Aes Sedai, and those with her did as well.