Then, Mat felt something. From that mist. A prickling cold sensation, followed by what he swore was whispering in his mind. He knew immediately what it was.
Oh, Light!
"Mat, look!" Olver called, pointing. "Wolves!"
A group of jet black animals, almost as large as horses, were assaulting the soldiers defending the path up to Shayol Ghul. The wolves were making quick work of the men. Light! As if things had not been difficult enough.
"Those aren’t wolves", Mat said grimly. The Wild Hunt had come to Thakan’dar.
Maybe they and Mashadar would destroy one another? Was that too much to hope for? With the dice tumbling in his head, Mat was not going to bet on it. Rand’s forces—what was left of the Aiel, Domani, Dragon-sworn and Tairen soldiers who had come here—would be crushed by the Darkhounds. If they survived, Mashadar would take them. They could not fight either one.
That voice in there . . . It wasn’t just Mashadar, the mindless mist. Fain was here somewhere, too. And the dagger.
Shayol Ghul loomed above. High in the air, clouds churned. Surprisingly, some white thunderheads had rolled in from the south, colliding with the black as they spun together. Actually, those two together looked an awful lot like the—
The to’raken turned and winged about, then swooped down lower, maybe only a hundred feet off the ground.
"Be careful!" Mat hollered, holding on to his hat. "Are you bloody trying to kill us!"
"Apologies, my Prince", the woman yelled back. "I just need to find a safe place to put you down".
"A safe place?" Mat said. "Good luck on that".
"It’s going to be difficult. Dhana is strong, but I—"
A black-fletched arrow grazed the side of Sulaan’s head, loosed from somewhere down below, along with a flight of a dozen others that zipped around Mat, one hitting the wing of the to’raken.
Mat cursed, dropping his hat and reaching for Sulaan as Olver cried out in shock. Sulaan went limp, dropping the reins. Below, a group of red-veiled Aiel prepared another volley.
Mat undid his straps. He leaped—well, more crawled—over Olver and the unconscious woman and grabbed the reins of the panicked to’raken. This could not be too much harder than riding a horse, could it? He pulled as he had seen Sulaan do, turning the to'raken as arrows cut the air behind them, several taking the beast in the wings.
They veered straight toward the rock wall, and Mat found himself on his feet, standing on the saddle and gripping the reins tightly as he tried to keep the wounded beast from bloody killing them all. That turn nearly tossed him free, but he held himself in place with feet wedged and holding the reins even tighter.
The rush of air as they turned caught up Olver’s next words. The creature’s badly wounded wings beat wildly and it screeched wretchedly. Mat was not certain either of them were in control as the beast twisted toward the ground.
They hit the floor of the valley in a heap. Bones cracked—Light, Mat hoped they belonged to the to’raken—and he found himself tumbling end over end across the broken ground.
He finally came to a rest, flopping over.
He breathed in and out, stunned by it all. "That", he finally groaned, "is the bloody worst idea I’ve ever had". He hesitated. "Maybe the second worst". He had decided to kidnap Tuon, after all.
He stumbled to his feet, and his legs still seemed to work. He did not limp too badly as he ran to the twitching to’raken. "Olver? Olver!"
He found the boy still tied in the saddle, blinking and shaking his head to clear it. "Mat", Olver said, "next time I think you should let me fly it. I don’t think you did a very good job".
"If there is a next time", Mat said, "I’ll eat a whole bag of Tar Valon gold". He yanked free the ties holding his ashandarei and Olver’s Horn, then handed the instrument to the boy. He reached for the pack with Rand’s banner, which he’d carried tied at his waist, but it was gone.
Panicked, Mat looked about. "The banner! I dropped the bloody banner!"
Olver smiled, looking up at the sign made by the swirling clouds. "It will be fine—we're beneath his banner already", he said, then lifted the Horn and blew a beautiful note.
CHAPTER 46
To Awaken
Rand broke free from the darkness and entered the Pattern fully again.
From his watching of the Pattern, he knew that although only minutes had passed here since he’d entered, in the valley outside this cavern, days had passed, and farther out into the world, it had been much longer.
Rand threw Moridin back from the position they’d held during those tense minutes with blades locked. Still full of the One Power, so sweet, Rand whipped the blade of Callandor at his old friend.
Moridin got his sword up in time to block, but only barely. He growled, pulling a knife from his belt and stepping back into a knife-and-sword stance.
"You don’t matter any longer, Elan", Rand said, the torrent of saidin raging within him. "Let us finish this!"
"I don’t?" Moridin laughed.
Then he spun and threw the knife at Alanna.
Nynaeve watched in horror as the knife spun through the air. The winds didn’t touch it for some reason.
No! After she had coaxed the woman back to life. I cannot lose her now! Nynaeve tried to catch the knife or block it, but she moved just a hair too slowly.
The knife buried itself in Alanna’s breast.
Nynaeve looked at it, horrified. This was not a wound that sewing and herbs could heal. That blade hit the heart.
"Rand! I need the One Power!" Nynaeve cried.
"Its . . . all right . . ". Alanna whispered.
Nynaeve looked at the woman's eyes. She was lucid. The andilay, Nynaeve realized, remembering the herb she’d used to give the woman strength. It brought her out of her stupor. It awakened her.
"I can . . " Alanna said. "I can release him . . ".
The light faded from her eyes.
Nynaeve looked at Moridin and Rand. Rand glanced at the dead woman with pity and sorrow, but Nynaeve saw no rage in his eyes. Alanna had released the bond before Rand could feel the effects of her death.
Moridin turned back to Rand, another knife in his left hand. Rand raised Callandor to strike Moridin down.
Moridin dropped his sword, and stabbed his own right hand with the knife. Rand twitched suddenly, and Callandor dropped from his grip as if his hand somehow hurt fro
