“Her task was not just to teach him,” Amys said. “What I wouldn’t give to know that he was safely under the watchful eyes of a good woman.” She looked at Aviendha, face laden with meaning.

“He will be mine,” Aviendha said, firmly. But not for you, Amys, or for our people. She was shocked at the strength of that sentiment within her. She was Aiel. Her people meant everything to her.

But this choice was not their choice. This choice was hers.

“Be warned, Aviendha,” Bair said, laying a hand on her wrist. “He has changed since you left. He has grown strong.”

Aviendha frowned. “In what way?”

“He has embraced death,” Amys said, sounding proud. “He may still carry a sword and wear the clothing of a wetlander, but he is ours now, finally and truly.”

“I must see this,” Aviendha said, standing. “I will discover what I can regarding his plans.”

“There is not much time remaining,” Kymer warned.

“One night remains,” Aviendha said. “It will be enough.”

The others nodded, and Aviendha started to dress. Unexpectedly, the others joined her, dressing as well. It appeared that they considered her news important enough that they would be going to share it with the other Wise Ones, rather than continuing to sit in conference.

Aviendha was the first to step out into the night; the cool air, away from the sweltering heat of the sweat tent, felt good on her skin. She took a deep breath. Her mind was heavy with fatigue, but sleep would need to wait.

The tent flaps rustled behind the other Wise Ones, Melaine and Amys speaking softly to one another as they hastened into the night. Kymer walked purposefully toward the Tomanelle section of the camp. Perhaps she would speak with her sister-father, Han, the Tomanelle chief.

Aviendha started to move off herself, but a bony hand took her arm. She glanced over her shoulder to see Bair standing behind her, dressed again in blouse and skirt.

“Wise One,” Aviendha said by reflex.

“Wise One,” Bair replied with a smile.

“Is there something …”

“I would go to Rhuidean,” Bair said, glancing at the sky. “Would you kindly make a gateway for me?”

“You’re going through the glass columns.”

“One of us needs to. Despite what Amys said, Elenar is not ready, particularly not to see … something of this nature. That girl spends half of her days squawking like a buzzard over the last scrap of a rotting carcass.”

“But—”

“Oh, don’t you start, too. You’re one of us now, Aviendha, but I’m still old enough to have tended your greatmother when she was a child.” Bair shook her head; her white hair almost seemed to glow in the filtered moonlight. “I am the best one to go,” she continued. “Channelers must be preserved for the battle to come. I would not have some child walk into those columns now. I will do it. Now, that gateway? Will you grant my request, or do I need to bully Amys into doing so?”