The Grey Tower

Jaryd listened quietly as Kaia spoke at length about her family, absently drawing patterns over her back with his fingers. He drank in her words, content to simply be, to learn of this part of her that had gone unspoken until that moment. Had he failed to ask, or had she evaded his inquiries? He could not be sure, but it didn’t seem to matter so much in that moment.

When she spoke of Tar Valon, he felt something change. He had been bonded to Carra long enough to recognize the feeling when she chose her words with extreme care. It had been so long since he had experienced the sensation -and never with Kaia- that his hands slipped on her body, losing the smooth rhythm of caresses he had adopted. He almost asked. His mouth opened, he took a breath- and then he remembered exactly why Kaia Ariasca had left the White Tower. He could not blame her for wishing to avoid that topic.

The feeling had seemed deeper than the simple explanation, but another feeling entirely abruptly came from her, chasing away all thought of what had troubled his lover. She had spoken of Kavi’s children, and then….warmth, a flood of it, surging through their shared bond and overwhelming all else in its wake. His heart skipped a beat and his arms tightened around her waist of their own accord. I have no children, he had told Regann, and then wondered whether Kaia even wanted any. It felt very much as if he had just received his answer without saying a word.

Silence held sway for a time. Without the Power-wrought connection they shared to guide him he might have been anxious, but the bond told him Kaia had settled into warm contentment, nestled with her cheek against his chest.

Eventually they began to talk again. Jaryd asked about Kavi’s business, Kaia asked about Remen’s woodworking. He told her about Ceselea -what little he could remember- and about how his gang had run the dilapidated city they looked down upon. Something akin to the feeling he had had watching her with Eilana wrapped through him as they spoke and he allowed himself to settle into it without resistance, feeling the jagged edges of fear and hurt begin to smooth as he did.

A thought began to work its way through his mind after a time, one he could not ignore. He didn’t want to change the subject, didn’t want to remind either of them of the world outside the bubble of peace they had created, and yet...it needed to be said. After another short pause, he finally convinced his mouth to form the words.

“I am sorry, Kaia,” he said, his gaze fixed on their interlocked fingers for the moment. “For the way I treated you before. For locking you out of our bond. For…the pain my pride caused you.”

She pulled her hand free of his, and pushed his chin up with her fingers until he had no choice but to meet her eyes. “It takes two people to fight, Jaryd,” she said, and that knot of feelings in the back of his head suddenly radiated remorse. “It was my fault, too, I-”

He wrapped her hand in his and pushed it down to her lap, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly as he studied her face. “It may take two to fight, but you had every right to feel the way you did. I allowed myself to be consumed by other duties, and I took you and your love for granted. That is- not how I wish us to be.”

“How do you wish us to be, Jaryd?” Her eyes seemed to get larger as she spoke, her face alight with curiosity and hope.

He swallowed, suddenly feeling perilously off balance, as if he stood on a splintering dock with the tide rising about his ankles. “Together,” he said after a long moment of searching for the proper words. “Loving each other. Talking and feeling as we have since- since I came back.”

He drew back and Kaia gave him a confused look. He fumbled at his belt, drawing Watari from her sheathe. “This knife has been with me since I was a boy,” he told her, turning the curved weapon over in his hand thoughtfully. “She has kept me safe and in reasonably good health ever since, and my life has not exactly been peaceful.” His teeth flashed briefly as he smiled. “She has never left my side, save for the short time you cared for her. I cannot imagine my life without her.” His grin faded to a slight smile, his eyes intent on hers.

“It is Altaran custom that when a man asks a woman to marry him, he gives her a marriage knife. They’re supposed to be a specific type, but...I would give you this one, Kaia, if you would honor me by accepting her.” He flipped the blade, offering the hilt to the Aes Sedai with a smile.

Delicate fingers twitched towards the cherry wood handle before her mind had fully processed Jaryd’s words. Marry. Marriage knife. He... he was... he wanted to... oh Light! Kaia found herself staring the Altaran full in the face. She was still, so very very still, and as the seconds stretched out between them, she realized that it was because she had forgotten how to breathe.

She felt along the bond, just to be sure- just to reassure herself that she was not dreaming. Absolute sincerity. Fierce hope. Unwavering devotion. Anticipation and worry, the latter quickly muted and muffled. A soft soundless sensation hitched in her throat as she looked into coal black eyes, her lips parting. Above it all, blazing like a beacon, shone Jaryd’s steadfast and abiding love for her.

Curiously enough, her voice would not work, but one of her fingers slid into the loop of Watari’s hilt and she nodded as her palm closed around the handle. The Domani woman tried to speak, but her mouth refused to form the words.

Yes! I will accept! I mean- I do accept! The sudden relief and joy that surged up through the bond showed her that her lover had heard her, his smile as wide and as animated as she had ever seen. Jaryd threw back his head and laughed, the sound filling the air around them like a living thing.

“No words for me, Kaia?” he teased gently, his hand lifting as thumb and forefinger closed gently around her chin. Warmth filled her chest, and she could only shake her head at him as she tried to move her lips. Yet again, no sound emerged.

I... want to, but I can’t seem to! Her mindvoice was tinged with mild confusion and helpless laughter, her feet lifting up off the ground completely as she leaned back into him.

“Breathe, my love.” He rubbed at her back, still smiling at her.

The breath left her body in an explosive sound, and she gasped before sucking in air noisily. “Oh!” came her startled exclamation and that was enough to send them both into fits of laughter. “I do accept, Jaryd,” she told him softly when she had regained control of herself, her free hand going up to first touch the barely visible scar across his cheekbone before trailing over his jawline.

His hands went to the empty sheath at his waist, tugging it loose. Long fingers began fussing at her belt, green eyes dropping curiously to watch what he was doing. The Altaran rearranged the way the linen fabric rested against her body, smoothing and folding the cloth, somehow looping her thinner belt to accommodate Watari’s resting place without her having to move. Kaia’s dazzled mind could not follow, her attention returning again and again to the rippling folded steel and all that the knife represented.

“There,” he said gently, his hand resting over hers as he guided the small blade carefully, a soft click sounding as it slid home, resting snugly just above her hip. “That will do.” A fingertip lifted and traced along the space between her collarbones, the touch sending a rush of heat flaring through her body.

“Mi cueran...” was all she had time to say before their lips met. It was not long before she twisted in his lap, the hem of linen skirts catching on the very tip of her shoes. Soft touches gradually became heated caresses and when their bodies finally joined, the world resonated oddly, a dome of saidin keeping the gasping sounds and cries they made contained and private. They did not leave that rooftop until the sun touched down upon the horizon. Eilana and Remen did not comment at the sight of Watari at her hip, but their smiles and sidelong looks said enough.

Jaryd came to her that night, another Power wrought ward keeping the noise they made contained and private. As they lay together on the narrow bed, the sweat cooling from their bodies with their legs tangled together, Kaia pushed herself up onto one elbow. The black stone stuck for a moment against her skin before swinging free. Dark, dark eyes regarded her curiously, her lover patiently waiting for her to speak.

“The marriage knife is be worn like a necklace?”

“Yes, traditionally,” came the answer, the head crowned with tousled ink black curls tilting a little to the side. “Watari is too unwieldy for that, but I will get you a proper one.”

She smiled, sitting up abruptly. Kaia reached up behind her neck, unclasping the simple golden chain before leaning forward to fasten it around Jaryd’s. “I know you gave yours to Reen,” was all she said, the petite Domani settling back into the bed when she was finished.

“Kaia...” There was a breathless, awed note to the Altaran’s voice, matching the emotions that flowed across the bond.

She placed a finger against his lips, shifting until she was able to roll on top of him. “Kiss me,” she murmured, her lover all too happy and eager to comply. The night passed in a glorious haze as they came together again and again, and it was not until sunlight crept into the room through the small cracks in the shutters that they finally dropped off into exhausted slumber.

Jaryd stirred and automatically stretched a hand outward for Kaia. His seeking fingers found nothing but air, and for a breath he hung suspended in terror. No….! Regann could not have constructed the warm glow he felt when Kaia had taken Watari. His denial rose with his panic and he tensed, preparing to flee.

As he shifted he felt a weight against his chest, and a wave of rich scent filled his nose. He opened his eyes in confusion, and realized that Kaia was pressed against him, arms drawn up between them and her head resting on his chest. His seeking arm hung off the side of the narrow bed- nothing to be found there. The breath left his body in a sharp gasp, and the fear filtered away, to be replaced with utter contentment. The woman he loved slept soundly, strands of inky hair caught across her face. He brushed them aside, his gaze a caress of its own as he took in the Domani woman as if seeing her for the first time.

She said yes.

The Altaran lifted his hand to finger the stone that hung about his neck, remembering the feather-light brush of her fingers on his neck as she closed the gold chain. A little later in the night he had joked about fate and she had hit him with a pillow. One thing had led to another, and somehow he had found himself asking her a different kind of question about the future…one he had felt the answer to the day before, but wanted to hear her speak. Her affirmative had left him breathless.

He smiled at the memory, and shifted to settle against her a little more closely. Before his eyes could properly close, however, someone knocked on the rickety door. “Jaryd,” his father’s voice said through the worn plank, “there is a man down here who says he needs to speak to you right away.” Remen sounded perturbed, and Jaryd’s joy faded as he considered who it might be. Unless someone in the Rahad had a very long memory indeed, it seemed unlikely anyone he knew there had found him, which could only mean one thing.

With a flick of his finger he released the Ward that had protected his privacy. “I’ll be down in a moment,” he said, then listened with his head cocked to the side until the elder Kosari had departed. When Jaryd looked down, he found Kaia’s eyes on him. “Duty calls,” he said softly, running his fingers along her jaw, then planting a lingering kiss on her lips. Why can’t the Tower take care of itself for just one more day?

She pressed harder against him as they kissed as if she had heard the thought -and truly, perhaps she had- then pulled away to swing her legs off the bed. “We had best run to answer it mi cueran,” she said lightly. The Asha’man smiled as he reached for his clothes.

The man who waited for them downstairs had to hunch to keep from smashing his head on low-lying support beams, and he held one of Eilana’s teacups with obvious uncertainty. He set it down immediately as soon as he saw Jaryd. “Good morning,” Zeen said companionably enough. He gave Kaia a short bow, but met the Altaran’s gaze steadily. Something is actually wrong, Jaryd thought, feeling a prickle travel up his spine.

He went to the side table and poured himself some tea, then turned to face the Green. “This had better be an actual emergency,” he said in a light, almost teasing voice. It did nothing to quell the unease in his gut.

“The Creator himself could not have paid me enough to interrupt you if it were not, Red,” the giant said a tad evasively, and that heavy weight grew. Spit it out, Zeen. The Amadician looked from Jaryd to Kaia with flat gray eyes, then finally the reluctant words came out. “There have been murders in the Tower. It is as if the very shadows reached out and cut their throats.”

The crash of porcelain echoed in Jaryd’s ears for the second time in three days. It took him a moment to realize he had dropped the cup from nerveless fingers and it had shattered across the floor in a spray of liquid. He ignored the mess for the moment, his entire attention focused on his friend. “How many?” he asked.

“Five in as many hours before I left, but it took me some time to find you. It could be twice that by now.”

The Asha’man felt the warm bubble of joy he had been floating in flatten out and simply disappear, siphoned away and replaced by cold, heavy dread. He dropped to a crouch and began picking up the pieces of the broken cup with slow methodic care, as if he had all the time in the world. It wasn’t until he had every piece carefully stacked in his hand that he looked up, dark eyes cold and flat.

“We return immediately.” The golden haze of the day before seemed so very far away as he rose.

Supple translucent silk and sheer lace had replaced the stiff linen, but the weight of Watari at her hip remained the same. Kaia had no idea how to really use the wicked knife, her experience with daggers basic and rudimentary. Her fingers frequently found their way to the wooden handle however, and each time her touch grazed over the end loop, her eyes lit up.

Jaryd had shown her how to properly carry the knife some time after they had returned to the Tower, something hot and fierce flashing through the bond as their fingers had briefly intertwined together. He had grasped her chin then, and heedless of who was around and who might see, covered her mouth with his. Their kiss ended far too quickly, but the petite Domani could not stop her surprised delight from broadcasting across the bond, nor the abrupt surge of desire that stained her neck and cheeks a bright red beneath the copper hue of her skin. His eyes smoldered for a moment in response before the bond flattened, the emotion draining out of coal black depths. She had never hated the Void so much as she had right then.

That had been hours ago, time enough to school herself - outwardly, at least - into the appearance of perfect calm. The Flame and Fang of Hama Valon were ensconced within the M’Hael’s office, the Amadician present and apparently acting as some kind of liaison. Or bodyguard, came the sobering thought. Kaia tried not to dwell on that. The raven haired woman went to inform Torianin of her return and then had gone to find Dax. The Tairen did not seem at all surprised, and had assured her that Reen would come to no harm. Satisfied with his word, Kaia made her way through the halls, back towards the top of the Tower. The tension and fear were nearly palpable and it was difficult to pretend that she did not feel it. She wasn’t entirely sure who’s ridiculous idea it had been to inform the learning ranks of the deaths within the Tower but it was too late to do anything about that now.

She re-entered Jaryd’s office without knocking, the bond telling her that she was expected. The Amyrlin had gone to see to preparations, for what Kaia did not ask. The Aes Sedai mask settled into place as she listened silently to Zeen’s brief summation, the Green’s tone clipped as he described the gory events to the best of his knowledge. Three more had died while he had been searching for the M’Hael and the Keeper. Eight murders. How could eight channelers die within the Tower walls with next to nothing being known?

The bond sharpened, the Altaran’s head lifting as he gazed sharply at the closed door. The Red tensed, something about the way Jaryd felt... a warning? Zeen abruptly fell silent, picking up on some unseen cue from the M’Hael that Kaia herself did not notice.

“Someone... something... has just tripped my ward.”

The instant the Altaran walked through the Gateway into his quarters his fear had returned. The Void kept it at bay initially -just barely, just enough that Kaia had felt comfortable leaving him for a short time- but as time passed he found he couldn’t remember where she had gone or why, or if she would be back. Panic interfered with his ability to hear or speak; he clung to his chair and fought simply to remain lucid as the Amyrlin told him more of what had happened. Shadows did not kill people...the Shadow did, but not simple patches of darkness.

Zeen did not provide the same type of assurance that Kaia did, but whenever he spoke Jaryd was able to focus on the conversation a little better. He knew the Green would not lie to him any more than Kaia would. He clung to that certainty for what felt like hours. The others departed, and a few minutes later the Keeper came through the door and took a seat across from him. I am here, she told him silently, and Jaryd released a long breath, his fingers creeping up to touch the stone about his neck. Her eyes lit up, banishing his uncertainty.

A chime sounded in his head a few minutes later. Neither the Asha’man nor the Aes Sedai could hear it, but both looked at him immediately, picking up on his tension. His stomach churned, but he forced it to obedience. “Someone….something...has just tripped my ward,” he said softly. He had set the flows around his chambers and the Keeper’s study, wanting safety and warning before interruption. Unless the intruder had come up the glass walls of the Tower, there was only one place he or she could come from.

Saidin lept to his grasp as his eyes went to the half-open door. Menace rolled off Zeen in waves, and he felt a tingle crawl up his spine as Kaia’s fingers twitched. Time warped uncontrollably as the three channelers stared at the door, seconds passing like years as they waited for something -anything- to happen. Nothing did. Not a whisper of sound, not the scrape of slipper on polished wood...nothing at all. Jaryd wet his lips and sat back in his chair as his eyes scanned the room. Nothing.

“Perhaps som-” Zeen cut off mid-word as he lurched sideways as if shoved. The air next to him…moved. It seemed almost human, a faint figure fading in and out of the golden light, then vanishing altogether. The Amadician fell to the ground growling curses as he fought to get the….thing… off of him. Abruptly his fingers closed on empty air and Jaryd watched, utterly perplexed, as the large Asha’man pushed himself upward as if nothing had happened at all.

“Jaryd-” Kaia’s normally velvet voice had risen to a shrill cry of warning, and the Asha’man threw himself sideways in time to avoid a blade that would have buried itself in his eye. He could not see the wielder, but could feel it pull back at impossible speed as he fell. Now that his nightmares had become reality he felt oddly distant from the panic that had gripped him at a mere thought in the time before.

As he rolled away, long fingers fumbled at his belt for a knife that he no longer wore. His fingers passed through empty air at his waist, and in the moment of confusion he felt at the dagger’s absence, he felt the bite of a blade gouging across his chest. The bond came alive with fear and he could feel Kaia’s intent as surely as if she had spoken. Be careful! he told her over the bond.

His opponent had pulled away; the Altaran surged to his feet and turned in place with a hand over the wound, his eyes first finding Kaia and Zeen, then raking over the room as he searched for any sign of the assassin.

Pain that was not hers flooded through the bond, the frigid fire that burned along Jaryd’s ribs twisting and yanking away at her attention. She made as if to rush towards him, panic beginning to cloud her mind. He was hurt. Jaryd was hurt- !

Be careful! The words crashed through her skull and Kaia froze for a fraction of a second before steadying herself, the sound of her lover’s voice somehow grounding her. Her feet physically pressed further down into her slippers and clarity returned. He was hurt, but it was nothing she could not Heal afterwards.

The petite Domani stood in the space between the two men, gossamer thin threads of Air spinning and looping out all round her. Farther and farther she spun her net, the seeking filaments sensitive to movement. There. And there. There! She lashed out with Fire but the flow collided with naught but empty air. Perhaps... she had clipped the shadow... but without visible evidence of something actually burning, she couldn’t say for certain. The motions were impossibly fast, one weave barely trembling before another was triggered... another and then another. How was this happening? Were there two? Three? Light...

Bloody focus. Green eyes were hard enough to cut. She was an Aes Sedai of the Red Ajah, not some wilting milk-faced chit.

The assassin was circling, wheeling, testing, Kaia barely able to follow the movements with her mind. A shiver of sensation from the tendrils of Power that she held and then another. A third one... from the same direction...! The Aes Sedai flung herself backwards and felt something graze across her midriff, a line of stinging discomfort scoring across her belly. She shoved upwards with her hands, Fire erupting from outstretched palms. A blast of Air knocked her attacker away, the human figure limned in flickering flames eerily silent as the body simply bounced along the floor, skidding to a halt some distance away. It burned where it lay. The delicate web dissipated lest she ignite half the room as well with her flows.

Her probing fingers followed the rent in silk and lace, methodically taking in the damage. The cut hurt, but it was shallow. She felt a momentary flicker of annoyance, her eyes immediately lifting to Jaryd. She had noticed the Altaran touching along his waist earlier. Concern spiked across the bond before the flatness returned, the Void compressing all of Jaryd’s emotions and pushing them away from her.

“That is one.” The raven haired woman caught Zeen’s gaze, the Amadician nodding a little in grim acknowledgement. Kaia straightened, fingers going to grasp Watari’s hilt. She went to pull the knife out, her gaze going to her lover again. He and the giant were staring off in the same direction. Should she interrupt...? Jaryd knew how to use Watari far better than she ever could.

The fine hairs on the back of her neck rose, her body reacting to the feeling of another pressing in behind her. What- Jagged ice bit into her back, the force of it driving her forward a step. She gasped involuntarily, her eyes widening as she felt herself sagging backwards, her legs suddenly unable to support her weight. Confusion blared across her mind as the sickening sensation of falling overcame her. Saidar slipped out of her grasp and she found herself staring up at the ceiling uncertainly.

Movement teased along both corners of her vision. It seeped up from the floor, coalescing into pale silvery mist. It rose up in ghostly fingers, curling and seeking. As Kaia peered at it, the mist solidified and thickened, rolling inexorably towards her in gentle undulating waves. There was wetness on her face and for a moment, her attention was pulled away from the approaching tide. Those eyes... she knew those eyes...

“Jaryd.” Her mouth formed the syllables of his name even though she couldn’t hear herself speak them. He was talking... but why couldn’t she hear him? Kaia did not understand. The world tilted oddly and she felt herself being partially lifted. She could see the strange mist over Jaryd’s shoulder. She glanced between it and him, blinking rapidly as he seemed to dim and slightly blur. It was getting harder and harder to see, but there was light all around her somehow. It beckoned, quietly at first, so quietly that she was able to ignore it.

Her brow furrowed and she turned her gaze back to him. The Altaran’s face was contorted, tears flowing unchecked down his face. His mouth was still moving. What was he saying? She so desperately wanted to know... Light, she wanted to hear his voice. The petite Domani lifted her hand weakly, fingers going up to first touch the barely visible scar across his cheekbone before trailing over his jawline. As the light grew, so too did the strange urgency she felt tugging at her. It pulled and beckoned again with implacable insistence, and soon she was being drawn away from the man she loved.

No... no I don’t want to go... let me stay with him...

The mist was almost upon her now, ignoring her silent plea. It flowed past Jaryd as water would around a stone. It swelled, higher and higher, until a shimmering wall of suspended translucence separated her from him. As the mist finally fell inward, it cascaded through her in rippling waves. Kaia felt herself being lifted, slowly carried off up into the glowing light.

The things that had invaded his study seemed human in shape, but they moved like serpents, and even with saidin raging through his soul he could not seem to focus on them for even so long as a breath. He felt a flare of pain from Kaia and his head turned to find her. Behind the tiny Aes Sedai a shadowy figure lay wreathed in flame. Despite her injury she seemed fierce and proud, green eyes alight as she met his gaze. Despite the desperate nature of their unexpected struggle, he found himself smiling, her triumph infectious. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak he felt fingers close around his wrist, someone with incredible strength pulling his arm down and behind.

He growled, twisting in place to duck free and the figure broke away without a sound. What are they? Where did they come from? Dark eyes followed a faint distortion in the air as the Asha’man prepared flows of Air and Spirit with which to trap his adversary. The ground began to tremble, and the marble in that corner of the room seemed to ...ripple. Zeen had noticed as well, it seemed; Jaryd saw the faint outline of struggling feet sinking into an expanse of liquid stone in the corner.

What-.

Kaia’s voice rang in his mind in such strident tones that Jaryd rocked back on his heels, the Void shattering beneath the white-hot pain that assaulted him. He froze as the world seemed to compress to a mere pinprick of light in the far distance. It hurt, oh Light it hurt, worse than anything he had suffered so far, ripping through his very soul as if it had a life of its own. His thoughts splintered, he forgot how to breathe; all he could do was endure, and pray for it to end. I will do whatever you want, just make it stop!

Abruptly sight and sound returned. Jaryd took a breath, relief washing through him as he regained his balance. He touched his throat with his fingers to ascertain his freedom, then froze as he realized cold agony still boiled through him. It overwhelmed all else, originating not from his body or his mind, but from a spot deep within his soul, pouring through the bond in an endless flood.

“Kaia!” He didn’t recognize the sound of his own voice as he spun in place, blindly pushing himself toward her without thought or reason. She stood a few paces away, elegant in red silk with her arms raised before her, lips parted in shock and eyes wide, so wide. She had Watari in her hand; that seemed important in that moment, more important than the odd flickers of shadow behind her, the dark stain on crimson lace, the way her body canted backward further and further.

The sound of metal bouncing on stone and skittering away reached his ears, and he realized her hand was now empty, fingers curling open and closed uselessly.

Somehow his arms went around her as she crumpled backward, her weight pulling them both to the floor. She lay still and silent beneath him, one hand resting palm up next to her face amidst a wide fan of raven hair. The bond trembled, the pain seeming to lessen ever so slightly as she settled against the tile. The feeling that replaced it was strange: distant, muffled, almost numb. He didn’t want to think about what that meant.

“You will be just fine,” Jaryd told her in an unsteady voice as he worked his arm free from her weight. “I will Heal you, and everything will be-” he cut off as he pulled his hand away and saw dark liquid soaking his shirt nearly to the elbow. So much blood. “Light!” He drew away to look for the injury, his hands shaking with fear. Her eyes roved about the room without seeming to see anything, and dark liquid began to seep from beneath her waist, spreading over the pale stone far too quickly.

His fingers crept frantically over sodden cloth until he found a gash beneath her arm. Too deep. Far too deep. He knew without having to Delve her that he lacked the skill to Heal her. To try would take strength she would need. “Get a Healer,” he gasped without looking up. Murdock? No, the Keeper had gone on another errand. Zeen would find someone. Tears slid down his cheeks as he wadded up the Red’s skirt and crammed it against the wound.

I don’t understand, her voice whispered in his mind, and he swallowed hard, his head bowing nearly to her chest as he fought to control the horrible fear that had him in its grip. The bond had thinned, the connection that they shared reduced down to a faint thread of light through which he could barely feel her confusion. “Kaia,” he whispered, cradling her slight body against his. “Stay with me, Kaia.” He clung to his lover’s presence with his mind even as he clung to her body with his hands, sickening grief curling in his gut as he pleaded with her to stay.

Her eyes caught on his, and for a moment he felt a surge of recognition. “Jaryd,” she whispered, her hand lifting to his cheek. His head tilted to press against her fingers, the light touch burning him to his soul as his vision blurred. His hand rose to cup hers against his face as he stared into the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. Malachite had faded to a dull viridian now, and yet they were her eyes...eyes that had glowed with love for him alone, and that he could not imagine his life without. Eyes, he realized abruptly, that he may never see again.

No. He could not accept it. He would not.

“I love you Kaia.” Something in his heart tore open as her gaze drifted away to stare beyond his shoulder, but he spoke anyway, the words heavy with tears. “Talk to me.” He smoothed her hair away from her face, his fingers leaving smears of wet darkness on her skin. He flinched. “Be strong just a little longer. We have so many things to do together, so much time-” his voice cracked and he turned his head to press his cheek against her forehead. When he spoke again, it was in the barest whisper. “Please don’t leave me.”

Her voice echoed in his head, faint and sad over the whisper-thin connection of their bond. I don’t want to go…let me stay... The light they shared stretched into eternity, growing thinner and thinner until it simply ceased to be. Shock held him still for an endless breath and then he threw himself at that empty space with frantic horror.

Kaia?

He felt nothing save bitter emptiness where light should have been.

Kaia!

Jaryd clutched the Domani woman to his chest, a bereaved wail that could not possibly be his own ripping from his throat.

The bond comes with a price, an old Asha’man had once told him. Never use this weave unless you are willing to pay it. The words rebounded in Jaryd’s head as loss wrapped its jagged claws into his heart to fill the spaces where Kaia had once resided, then spilled over to blot out all light and life from the world. Darkness remained. Darkness and grief.

Light illumine you Kavi Ariasca,

Rodric paused as he wrote, lifting his head to look around the chamber he sat in. Two chairs faced him across a wide desk. A bookcase stood against one wall, its shelves and the walls around it still barren. He had propped his mace against the wall behind him, within easy reach should the unlikely need arise. Less flaming unlikely than I might have thought once, the Asha’man thought soberly, his mouth twisting down. Other than that the room stood empty.

It is with the greatest regret that I write to inform you of the passing of your sister Kaia on the second day of Maighdal.

The floor had been scrubbed again and again over the preceding days, and yet Rodric thought he could still see shadowy outlines of the violence that had occurred there. In one corner the white marble had been warped by the One Power, the shape of human feet permanently etched in its smooth surface. The wooden paneling to either side bore the unmistakable marks of a dagger swung in a frenzy of grief and rage. The man trapped in that expanse of stone had not had an easy death.

She fell in battle. We are investigating the intent behind the attack and will take appropriate action in due course.

He could not lie, even in written word, and more importantly, he did not want to. According to Zeen, Kaia Ariasca had fought bravely and died nobly; to gloss over how it had happened to ease a common woman’s fears would do the Aes Sedai a disservice. From all he had heard the tiny woman had lived and breathed the spirit of Rashima Kerenmosa. It boggled his mind that she had chosen the Red Ajah, but...perhaps it was time for the stories to have a hero from an unlikely place.

Her memory will be celebrated in five days. The Aes Sedai who brings you this letter will assure your safe arrival and return.

If only it had been so easy to assure Kaia’s safety...or anyone else’s, for that matter. Assassins had managed to infiltrate the entire Tower, killing many before finally attacking the M’Hael in the one place everyone had thought to be safe. Zeen had not wanted to speak of what happened, but eventually the truth had come out in bits and pieces. Kaia had killed one on her own. Zeen had trapped one and destroyed another after Kaia fell. Both were impressive feats no matter who told the story; the Tower would not forget. Jaryd…. Rodric’s eyes strayed to the marks on the wall next to the footprints. A broken bond does disturbing things to a man.

Her betrothed has a few things he wishes to pass to you.

He did not like Jaryd Kosari, but he had found a grudging respect for the man over the last few weeks as he struggled to overcome horrors that Rodric could barely imagine. Despite his terror he had done his duty, and he had begun to improve. The death of his lover had utterly destroyed him. The Wheel weaves as it wills. The sentiment felt trite and pointless when he thought of the younger man’s bleak eyes. He had seen that look before too many times and knew all too well what the Altaran’s inevitable fate would be.

The Grey Tower remains at your service during this time of grief. You need only ask, and we will assist.

Assuming more shadow men didn’t spring from the walls. Blood and bloody ashes!

In the Light,

Rodric Amadeo
The Watcher of the Seals
The Fang of Hama Valon
The M’Hael of the Grey Tower

He stared at the signature scrawled across the bottom of the page for several long moments, then methodically folded the parchment. A flow of Fire heated a stick of forest-green wax and a few moments later he pressed the fang signet into the cooling puddle.

“Light help us all,” the former Green muttered as he sat back, his hand automatically retrieving his pipe from the drawer where he kept it.