“To the gardens,” Egwene said, not trusting her quarters. She shouldn’t have come here; Mesaana would know this place.

Nynaeve nodded, and Egwene vanished, appearing in the lower Tower garden. The strange violet dome extended above. What was that, and how had Mesaana brought it here? Nynaeve appeared a moment later.

“They’re still up there,” Nynaeve whispered. “I just saw Alviarin.”

“I saw Mesaana,” Egwene said. “She nearly took me.”

“Light! Are you all right?”

Egwene nodded. “Mestra is dead. I saw Evanellein, too.”

“It’s black as a tomb up there,” Nynaeve whispered. “I think they made it that way. They shouldn’t be able to channel this well with those imperfect copies. Siuan and Leane are all right; I saw them a little bit ago, sticking together. Just before that, I managed to hit Notori with a blast of fire. She’s dead.”

“Good. The Black Ajah stole nineteen ter’angreal. That might give us an estimate of how many Black Ajah we have to contend with. Or since they’re able to channel so strongly, perhaps not.” She, Siuan, Nynaeve, Leane and the three Wise Ones were outnumbered—but the Black Ajah didn’t seem to have much experience with Tel’aran’rhiod.

“Have you seen the Wise Ones?”

“They’re up there.” Nynaeve grimaced. “They seem to be enjoying this.”

“They would,” Egwene said. “I want you and me to go together. We will appear in intersections, back to back, and quickly scan for light or people. If you see a Black, strike. If someone sees you, say ‘Go’ and we’ll jump back here.”

Nynaeve nodded.

“First intersection is the one outside my room,” Egwene said. “Hallway on the south side. I’ll flood it with light; you be ready. From there, we’ll jump down one hallway, by the door into the servants’ ramp. Then on down the line.”

Nynaeve nodded sharply.

The world winked around Egwene. She appeared in the hallway, and immediately thought of the place lit, imposing her will upon it. Light flooded the entire space. A round-faced woman crouched near the side of the wall, wearing white. Sedore, one of the Black sisters.

Sedore spun, looking angry, weaves springing up around her. Egwene worked faster, creating a column of fire right before Sedore would have released her own. No weaves on Egwene’s part. Just the fire.

Egwene saw the Black’s eyes open wider as the fire roared around her. Sedore screeched, but that cut off as the heat consumed her. Her burned corpse collapsed to the floor, smoldering.

Egwene let out a relieved breath. “Anyone on your side?”

“No,” Nynaeve said. “Who was that you hit?”

“Sedore.”

“Really?” Nynaeve said, turning. She had been a Sitter for the Yellow.

Egwene smiled. “Next hallway.”

They jumped, and repeated their strategy, flooding the hallway with light. There was nobody there, so they moved on. The next two hallways were empty. Egwene was about to leave when a voice hissed, “Foolish child! Your pattern is obvious.”

Egwene spun. “Where…”

She cut off as she saw Bair. The aged Wise One had changed her clothing and even her skin itself to match the white walls and floor tiles. She was practically invisible, crouching in an alcove.