Page 213 of The Gathering Storm (The Wheel of Time 12)

Egwene felt a moment of primal, nearly uncontrollable panic. Tarmon Gai’don! The Last Battle!

She heard screams in the distance, followed by the shouts of soldiers or Warders. No . . . no, she needed to focus! Serpents in the air. Serpents that wielded the One Power . . . or with riders that wielded the One Power. Egwene threw off the blanket and leaped to her feet.

It wasn’t Tarmon Gai’don, but it was nearly as bad. The Seanchan had finally attacked the White Tower, just as Egwene had Dreamed.

And she couldn’t channel enough Power to light a candle, let alone fight back.

CHAPTER 40

The Tower Shakes

Siuan awoke with a start. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. She scrambled off of her pallet. As she did, a dark figure moved suddenly on the other side of the tent, metal rasping against metal. Siuan froze, embracing the Source reflexively and summoning a globe of light.

Gareth Bryne stood alert, heron-marked steel drawn and ready. He wore only his smallclothes, and she had to keep herself from staring at his muscled body, which was in far better shape than that of most men half his age. “What is it?” he asked tensely.

“Light!” Siuan said. “You sleep with your sword?”

“Always.”

“Egwene is in danger.”

“What kind of danger?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We were meeting and she vanished suddenly. I think . . . I think Elaida may have decided to execute her. Or at least pull her from her cell and . . . do something to her.”

Bryne didn’t ask for details. He simply sheathed his sword, then proceeded to put on a pair of trousers and a shirt. Siuan still wore her now-wrinkled blue skirt and blouse—it was her habit to change after her meetings with Egwene, once Bryne was sound asleep.

She felt an anxiety she couldn’t quite define. Why was she so on edge? It wasn’t uncommon for something to wake a person while they were dreaming.

But most people weren’t Egwene. She was a master of the World of Dreams. If something had awakened her unexpectedly, she would have dealt with it, then returned to calm Siuan’s worries. But she hadn’t, despite Siuan’s waiting for what had seemed like an eternity.

Bryne stepped up to her, now wearing his stiff gray trousers and uniform coat. He’d buttoned up his high collar, marked with three stars on the left breast and golden epaulets on the shoulders.

A frenzied voice called from outside. “General Bryne! My Lord General!”

Bryne glanced at her, then turned toward the tent flaps. “Come!”

A youthful soldier with neat black hair pushed into the tent and gave a quick salute. He didn’t apologize for coming so late—Bryne’s men knew that their general trusted them to awake him if there was need. “My Lord,” the man said. “Scout’s report. Something is going on in the city.”

“ ‘Something,’ Tijds?” Bryne asked.

“The scouts aren’t certain, my Lord,” the man said with a grimace. “With the cloud cover, the night is dark, and the spyglasses aren’t much help. There have been bursts of light near the Tower, like an Illuminator’s show. Dark shadows in the air.”

“Shadowspawn?” Bryne asked, pushing out of the tent. With the globe of light, Siuan and the soldier followed. The moon would be barely a sliver, and with those perpetual clouds, it was difficult to see anything at all. The tents of the officers were slumbering banks of black on black around them, and the only really distinguishable lights were the watchfires of the guards at the palisade entrance.

“They could be Shadowspawn, my Lord,” the soldier said, trotting after Bryne. “Stories tell of creatures of Shadow that fly in such a way. But the scouts aren’t certain what they’re seeing. The flashes of light are there for sure, though.”

Bryne nodded, heading toward the watchfires. “Alert the night guard; I want them up and armored, just in case. Send runners to the city fortifications. And bring me more information!”

“Yes, my Lord.” The soldier saluted and ran off.

Bryne glanced at Siuan, his face illuminated by the globe of light hovering above her hand. “Shadowspawn wouldn’t dare attack the White Tower,” he said. “Not without a substantial ground assault waiting, and I sincerely doubt that there are

a hundred thousand Trollocs hiding in what little cover these plains offer. So what in the blazes is going on?”

“Seanchan,” Siuan said, a pit of ice forming in her stomach. “Fish guts, Gareth! It has to be. Egwene predicted it.”

He nodded. “Yes. They ride Shadowspawn, some of the rumors say.”