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would bear close watching if Nynaeve did order anything。 〃Forget clothes for one moment； Nynaeve。 Who is the oldest Accepted you remember？〃
She gave Elayne a very level look。 The woman made it sound as if she never thought of anything else！ And she had too listened。 Sometimes。 〃Elin Warrel； I think。 She's about my age； I think。〃 Of course； the seamstress's own dress would look fine with a more modest neckline and much less lace。 In green silk； Lan liked green； though she certainly was not going to choose her dresses for him。 He liked blue； as well。
Elayne barked such a laugh that Nynaeve wondered whether she had spoken aloud。 Coloring fiercely； she tried to explain … she was sure she could； by Bel Tine … but the other woman gave her no opportunity for a word。 〃Elin's sister came to visit her just before you first arrived at the Tower； Nynaeve。 Her younger sister。 The woman had gray hair。 Well； some of it was。 She must have been over forty； Nynaeve。〃
Elin Warrel was past forty？ But。。。！ 〃What are you saying； Elayne？〃
No one was close enough to listen； and no one seemed to be giving them a second glance except the still hopeful seamstress； but Elayne lowered her voice to a whisper。 〃We slow； Nynaeve。 Somewhere between twenty and twenty…five； we begin aging more slowly。 How much depends on how strong we are； but when doesn't。 Any woman who can channel does it。 Takima said she thought it was the beginning of achieving the ageless look； though I don't think anyone has ever reached that until they've worn the shawl at least a year or two； sometimes five or more。 Think。 You know any sister with gray hair is old； even if you aren't supposed to mention it。 So if Reanne slowed； and she must have； how old is she？〃
Nynaeve did not care how old Reanne was。 She wanted to cry。 No wonder everyone refused to believe her age。 It explained why the Women's Circle back home had looked over her shoulder as if unsure she was old enough to be trusted fully。 Achieving a sister's ageless face was all very well； but how long before she had her gray hairs？
Blinking； she turned away angrily。 And something struck her a glancing blow on the back of the head。 Staggering； she rounded on Elayne in astonishment。 Why had the woman hit her？ Only； Elayne lay in a heap； eyes closed and a nasty purple lump rising on her temple。 Groggily； Nynaeve fell to her knees and gathered her friend into her arms。
〃Your friend must be taken ill；〃 a long nosed woman said； kneeling beside them； careless of a yellow dress that showed far too much bosom even by Ebou Dari standards。 〃Let me help。〃
A tall fellow； handsome in his embroidered silk vest except for a rather oily grin； bent to take Nynaeve's shoulders。 〃Here； I have a carriage。 We'll take you somewhere more fortable than a paving stone。〃
〃Go away；〃 Nynaeve told them politely。 〃We don't need your help。〃
The man kept trying to raise her to her feet； though； to guide her toward a red carriage； where a startled…appearing woman in blue beckoned vigorously。 The long…nosed woman actually tried to lift Elayne； thanking the man for his help and chattering how his carriage sounded a fine idea。 A crowd of onlookers seemed to have gathered out of air in a semicircle； women murmuring sympathy about fainting from the heat； men offering to help carry the ladies。 A scrawny fellow； bold as you please； reached for Nynaeve's purse almost right under her nose。
Her head still swam enough to make embracing saidar difficult； but if all those nattering folk had not fueled her temper； what she saw lying in the street would have。 An arrow with a blunt stone head。 The one that had grazed her or the one that had struck Elayne。 She channeled； and the scrawny cutpurse doubled over； clutching himself and squealing like a pig in briars。 Another flow； and the long…nosed woman fell over backward with a shriek twice as high。 The man in the silk vest apparently decided they did not need his help after all； because he turned and ran for the carriage； but she gave him a dose anyway。 He out…bellowed any outraged bull as the woman in the carriage hauled him in by his vest。
〃Thank you； but we don't need any help；〃 Nynaeve shouted。 Politely。
Few remained to hear。 Once it became clear that the One Power was being used … and folk suddenly leaping about and yelling for no visible cause made it clear enough to most … they hurried elsewhere。 The long…nosed woman gathered herself up and actually jumped onto the back of the red carriage； clinging precariously as the dark…vested driver whipped the horses away through the crowd； people leaping aside。 Even the cutpurse hobbled off as fast as he could。
Nynaeve could not have cared less had the earth opened and swallowed the whole lot。 Chest aching； she ran fine flows of Wind and Water； Earth； Fire and Spirit mixed and blended； through Elayne。 It was a simple weave； no bother despite her faint dizziness； and the result let her breathe again。 The bruise was not serious； the bones of Elayne's skull were unbroken。 Normally； she would have redirected those same flows into much more plex weaves； the Healing she had discovered herself。 At the moment； simpler weaves were all she could manage； though。 With just Spirit； Wind and Water； she wove the Healing that Yellows had used since time immemorial。
Elayne's eyes shot open wide； and with a gasp that seemed to take all the air in her； she convulsed like a netted trout； slippered heels drumming on the pavement。 That only lasted a moment； of course； but in that moment the bruise shrank and vanished。
Nynaeve helped her to her feet … and a woman's hand appeared； holding a pewter cup full of water。 〃Even an Aes Sedai might be thirsty after that；〃 the seamstress said。
Elayne reached for it； but Nynaeve laid fingers on her wrist。 〃No； thank you。〃 The woman shrugged； and as she turned away； Nynaeve added in a different tone； 〃Thank you。〃 It seemed to e easier the more you said it； she was not sure she liked that。
That ocean of lace heaved as the seamstress shrugged again。 〃I make dresses for anyone。 I can do better for your coloring than that。〃 She vanished back into her shop。 Nynaeve frowned after her。
〃What happened？〃 Elayne demanded。 〃Why wouldn't you let me take a drink？ I'm thirsty and hungry。〃
With a last frown for the seamstress； Nynaeve bent to pick up the arrow。
The other woman needed no explanations。 Saidar shone around her in a flash。 〃Teslyn and Joline？〃
Nynaeve shook her head； the slight wooziness seemed to be fading。 She did not think those two would stoop to this。 She did not think so。 〃What about Reanne？〃 she said quietly。 The seamstress was back in the doorway； still hopeful。 〃She might want to make sure we leave。 Or worse； maybe Garenia。〃 That was almost as chilling as Teslyn and Joline。 And twice as infuriating。
Somehow Elayne managed to look pretty while scowling。 〃Whoever it was； we will settle them。 You'll see。〃 The scowl faded。 〃Nynaeve； if the Circle does know where the Bowl is； we can find it； but。。。 〃 She bit her lip； hesitating。 〃I only know one way to be sure。〃
Nynaeve nodded slowly； though she would rather have eaten a handful of dirt。 Today had seemed so bright for a time； but then it had spiraled into darkness； from Reanne to。。。 Oh； Light； how long before she had her gray hair？
〃Don't cry； Nynaeve。 Mat can't possibly be that bad。 He'll find it for us in a few days； I know。〃
Nynaeve only cried harder。
Chapter 25
（Snakey Square）
Mindtrap
Moghedien did not want to dream the dream again； but wanting to wake； wanting to scream； did no good。 Sleep held her faster than any manacles。 The beginning went by quickly； a sketchy blur。 No mercy； she would have to relive the rest that much sooner。
She barely recognized the woman who entered the tent where she was held prisoner。 Halima； secretary to one of these fools who called themselves Aes Sedai。 Fools； yet they held her tightly enough by the band of silver metal around her neck； held her and made her obey。 Fast movement； though she prayed for slowness。 The woman channeled to make a light； and Moghedien saw only the light。 It had to be saidin … among the living； only the Chosen knew how to tap the True Power … the Power that came from the Dark One … and few were fool enough to except in direst need … but that was impossible！ Blurring quickness。 The woman named herself Aran'gar and called Moghedien by name； she gave summons to the Pit of Doom and removed the a'dam necklace； flinching at pain no woman should have felt。 Again … how many times had she done this？ … again Moghedien wove a small gateway in the tent。 She Skimmed to give herself time to think in the endless dark； but no sooner did she step onto her platform； like a small enclosed marble balcony plete with a fortable chair； than she arrived on the black slopes of Shayol Ghul； forever shrouded in twilight； where vents and tunnels emitted steam and smoke and harsh vapors； and a Myrddraal came to her in its dead black garb； like a slug…white； eyeless man； but taller； more massive than any other Halfman。 It regarded her arrogantly； and gave its odd name unbidde