Page 208 of The Gathering Storm (The Wheel of Time 12)

Egwene looked down at the books with awe. Incred

ible! Light, but this was a treasure greater than any king’s hoard. A treasure as great as the Horn of Valere itself. She looked up, tears in her eyes, imagining a life spent among the Black, always watching, recording, and working for the good of all.

“Oh, don’t go doing that,” Verin said. Her face was beginning to look pale. “They have many agents among us, like worms eating the fruit out from the core. Well, I thought it time that we had at least one of us among them. This is worth one woman’s life. Few people have had a chance to create something as useful, and as wonderful, as that book you hold. We all seek to change the future, Egwene. I think I might just have a chance at doing so.”

Verin took a deep breath, then raised a hand to her head. “My. That does work quickly. There is one more thing I must tell you. Open the red book, please.”

Egwene did so, and found a thin leather strap with steel weights on the ends, the type used for marking one’s place in a book, though it was longer than others she had seen.

“Wrap it around the book,” Verin said, “place it marking any page, then twist the loose ends around the top.”

Egwene did so, curious, tucking the strap into a random page and closing the book. She put the smaller book on top of the larger one, then took the long ends of the bookmark that dangled down and twisted them about one another. The weights, she noticed, fit together. She locked them into place.

And the books vanished.

Egwene stared. She could still feel them in her hands, but the books themselves were invisible.

“Only works on books, I’m afraid,” Verin said, yawning. “Someone from the Age of Legends, it appears, was very worried about hiding his or her journal from others.” She smiled slightly, but was growing very pale.

“Thank you, Verin,” Egwene said, unclasping and unwrapping the bookmark. The volumes appeared again. “I wish there were some other way . . .”

“I will admit that the poison was a backup plan,” Verin said. “I am not eager for death; there are still things I need to do. Fortunately, I have set several of them in motion to be . . . seen to, in case I do not return. Regardless, my first plan was to find the Oath Rod, then see if I could use it to remove the Great Lord’s oaths. The Oath Rod appears to have gone missing, unfortunately.”

Saerin, Egwene thought, and the others. They must have taken it again. “I’m sorry, Verin,” she said.

“It might not have worked anyway,” Verin said, settling back on the bed, arranging the pillow behind her streaked brown hair. “The process of making those oaths to the Great Lord was . . . distinctive. I do wish I’d been able to discover one more tidbit for you. One of the Chosen is in the Tower, child. It’s Mesaana, I’m certain of it. I had hoped to be able to bring you the name she was hiding under, but the two times I met with her, she was shrouded to the point that I couldn’t tell. What I did see is recorded in the red book.

“Be careful where you tread. Be careful how you strike. I will leave it to you to decide if you want to try to get all of them at once, or if you want to take the most important ones separately in secret. Perhaps you will decide to watch and see if you can counter their plots. A good interrogation might yield light upon some of the questions I was not able to answer. So many decisions you must make, for one so young.” She yawned, then grimaced as a pain stabbed her.

Egwene rose, walking to Verin’s side. “Thank you, Verin. Thank you for choosing me to carry this burden.”

Verin smiled faintly. “You did very well with the previous tidbits I gave you. That was quite the interesting situation. The Amyrlin commanded that I give you information to hunt the Black sisters who fled the Tower, so I had to comply, even though the leadership of the Black was frustrated by the order. I wasn’t supposed to give you the dreaming ter’angreal, you know. But I’ve always had a feeling about you.”

“I’m not certain I deserve such trust.” Egwene looked down at the book. “Trust such as you’ve shown.”

“Nonsense, child,” Verin said, yawning again, eyes closing. “You will be Amyrlin. I’m confident of it. And an Amyrlin should be well armed with knowledge. That, among all things, is the most sacred duty of the Brown—to arm the world with knowledge. I’m still one of them. Please see that they know, although the word Black may brand my name forever, my soul is Brown. Tell them. . . .”

“I will, Verin,” Egwene promised. “But your soul is not Brown. I can see it.”

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting Egwene’s, a frown creasing her forehead.

“Your soul is of a pure white, Verin,” Egwene said softly. “Like the Light itself.”

Verin smiled, and her eyes closed. The actual death was a few more minutes in coming, but unconsciousness came first and swiftly. Egwene sat, holding the woman’s hand. Elaida and the Hall could see to themselves; Egwene had prepared her seeds well. Showing up now and making demands would be to overextend her authority.

After Verin’s pulse faded, Egwene took the cup of poisoned tea and set it aside, then raised the saucer up in front of Verin’s nose. The shiny surface reflected no fog. It felt callous to double-check, but there were some poisons which could make one appear to be dead and breathe only very shallowly, and if Verin had wanted to trick Egwene and point a finger at the wrong sisters, this would have been a wonderful method. Callous indeed to double-check, and it made Egwene feel sick, but she was Amyrlin. She did that which was difficult and considered all possibilities.

Surely no truly Black sister would have been willing to die just to create such misdirection. Her heart trusted Verin, although her mind wanted to be certain. She glanced toward her simple desk, where she had set the books. At that moment, the door to her room opened without warning and a young Aes Sedai—new enough to the Shawl that her face didn’t show the ageless look yet—peeked in. Turese, one of the Red sisters. So someone had finally been assigned to watch over Egwene. Her period of freedom had come to an end. Well, there was no use crying over what could have been. The time had been well spent. She wished Verin had come to see her a week earlier, but what was done was done.

The Red sister frowned at seeing Verin, and Egwene quickly raised a finger to her lips and shot the young sister a harsh look.

Egwene hurried to the door. “She just got in, and wished to speak to me regarding a task she had set me upon long ago, back before the Tower split. They can be oddly single-minded at times, these Brown sisters.” True words, every one of them.

Turese nodded ruefully at the comment about Browns.

“I do wish she’d chosen her own bed to lie down in,” Egwene said. “I’m not sure what to do with her now.” All true again. Egwene really did need to get her hands on that Oath Rod. Lying started to seem far too convenient at times like this.

“She must be tired from her travels,” Turese said, voice soft but firm. “You let her do as she wishes; she is Aes Sedai, and you simply a novice. Do not disturb her.”