Remembering what it had done to Mat, he jerked back, the void shifting with his agitation. With a groan, he rolled across the floor and kicked open the door to his room. No one else glanced at him. I'll waste no more time.
She could always feel it there, waiting for her, like the smell of perfume or the feel of silk, drawing her, drawing her. And the Dragon. It was Nynaeve's turn to be silent, remembering Sheriam telling her of the oaths a woman took on being raised to full sisterhood, oaths spoken inside a ter'angreal that bound her to keep them. You will know when it comes, sheepherder, when the price is worth the gain, and there is no other choice left to you.
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