“Something that takes me away from the capital, so I cast no unfortunate shadows.”

“But a duty that is important, so that you are not thought of as having been put out to pasture.” Elayne grimaced. “Perhaps we can give you charge of the western quarter of the realm. I have little pleasure in the reports of what is happening there.”

“The Two Rivers?” Morgase asked. “And Lord Perrin Aybara?”

Elayne nodded.

“He is an interesting one, Perrin is,” Morgase said thoughtfully. “Yes, perhaps I could be of some use there. We have something of an understanding already.”

Elayne raised an eyebrow.

“He was behind my safe return to you,” Morgase said. “He is an honest man, and honorable as well. But also a rebel, despite his good intentions. You will not have an easy time of it if you come to blows with that one.”

“I’d rather avoid it.” She grimaced. The easiest way to deal with it would be to find him and execute him, but of course she wasn’t going to do that. Even if reports had her fuming enough to almost wish that she could.

“Well, we shall begin working on a way.” Morgase smiled. “It will help you to hear of what happened to me. Oh, and Lini is safe. I don’t know if you’ve worried over her or not.”

“To be honest, I didn’t,” Elayne said, grimacing, feeling a spike of shame. “It seems that the collapse of Dragonmount itself couldn’t harm Lini.”

Morgase smiled, then began her story. Elayne listened with awe, and not a little excitement. Her mother lived. Light be blessed, so many things had gone wrong recently, but at least one had gone right.

The Three-fold Land at night was peaceful and quiet. Most animals were active near dusk and dawn, when it was neither sweltering nor freezing.

Aviendha sat on a small rock outcropping, legs folded beneath her, looking down upon Rhuidean, in the lands of the Jenn Aiel, the clan that was not. Once Rhuidean had been shrouded in protective mists. That was before Rand had come. He’d broken the city in three very important, very discomforting ways.

The first was the simplest. Rand had taken away the mist. The city had shed its dome like an algai’d’siswai unveiling his face. She didn’t know how Rand had caused the transformation; she doubted that he knew himself. But in exposing the city, he had changed it forever.

The second way Rand had broken Rhuidean was by bringing it water. A grand lake lay beside the city, and phantom moonlight, filtered through clouds above, made the waters shine. The people were calling the lake Tsodrelle’Aman. Tears of the Dragon, though the lake should be called Tears of the Aiel. Rand al’Thor had not known how much pain he would cause in what he revealed. Such was the way with him. His actions were often so innocent.

The third way Rand had broken the city was the most profound. Aviendha was slowly coming to understand this one. Nakomi’s words worried her, unnerved her. They had awakened in her shadows of memories, things from potential futures that Aviendha had seen in the rings during her first visit to Rhuidean, but that her mind could not quite recall, at least not directly.