A Memory of Light

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Authors: Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson
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dried-up tidal pool, waiting desperately for the water to return while watching a group of children work their way down the beach with buckets, gathering up anything that looked tasty . . .
    He breathed in and out, then picked up the leather. This would be the shoddiest piece he’d done in years, but he would finish it. Leaving something unfinished was nearly as bad as messing up the details.
    “Curious,” said the Aes Sedai—her name was Pevara, of the Red Ajah. He could feel her eyes on his back.
    A Red. Well, common destinations made for unusual shipmates, as the old Tairen saying went. Perhaps he should use the Saldaean proverb instead. If his sword is at your enemy’s throat, don’t waste time remembering when it was at yours.
    “So,” Pevara said, “you were telling me about your life prior to coming to the Black Tower?”
    “I don’t believe that I was,” Androl said, beginning to sew. “Why? What did you want to know?”
    “I’m simply curious. Were you one of those who came here on his own, to be tested, or were you one of those they found while out hunting?”
    He pulled a thread tight. “I came on my own, as I believe Evin told you yesterday, when you asked him about me.”
    “Hmm,” she said. “I’m being monitored, I see.”
    He looked toward her, lowering the leather. “Is that something they teach you?”
    “What?” Pevara asked innocently.
    “To twist a conversation about. There you sit, all but accusing me of spying on you—when you were the one interrogating my friends about me.
    I want to know what my resources are.”
    “You want to know why a man would choose to come to the Black Tower. To learn to channel the One Power.”
    She didn’t answer. He could see her deciding upon a response that would not run afoul of the Three Oaths. Speaking with an Aes Sedai was like trying to follow a green snake as it slipped through damp grass.
    “Yes,” she said.
    He blinked in surprise.
    “Yes, I want to know,” she continued. “We are allies, whether either of us desires it or not. I want to know what kind of person I’ve slipped into bed with.” She eyed him. “Figuratively speaking, of course.
    He took a deep breath, forcing himself to become calm. He hated talking with Aes Sedai, with them twisting everything about. That, mixed with the tension of the night and the inability to get this saddle right . . .
    He would be calm, Light burn him!
    “We should practice making a circle,” Pevara said. “It will be an advantage to us—albeit a small one—against Taim’s men, should they come for us.”
    Androl put his dislike of the woman from his mind—he had other things to worry about—and forced himself to think objectively. “A circle?”
    “Do you not know what one is?”
    “Afraid not.”
    She pursed her lips. “Sometimes I forget how ignorant all of you are . . .” She paused, as if realizing she’d said too much.
    “All men are ignorant, Aes Sedai,” Androl said. “The topics of our ignorance may change, but the nature of the world is that no man may know everything.”
    That didn’t seem to be the answer she’d been expecting, either. Those hard eyes studied him. She didn’t like men who could channel—most people didn’t—but with her it was more. She had spent her life hunting down men like Androl.
    “A circle,” Pevara said, “is created when women and men join their strength in the One Power together. It must be done in a specific way.”
    “The M’Hael will know about it, then.”
    “Men require women to form a circle,” Pevara said. “In fact, a circle must contain more women than men except in very limited cases. One woman and man can link, as can one woman and two men, as can two women and two men. So the largest we could create is a circle of three, with me and two of you. Still, it could be of use to us.”
    “I’ll find you two of the others to practice with,” Androl said. “Among those I trust, I’d say that Nalaam is the strongest.

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