The door opened gently and he looked up, but saw nothing and returned to the letter, wondering whether he had dug out everything that was in it. Reading, he rubbed his nose. Lews Therin and his talk of death. Rand could not rid himself of that feel of filth.
“Jalani and I will take our places outside,” Nandera said.
He nodded absently over the letter. Thom would probably find six things in the first glance that he had missed.
Aviendha put a hand on his arm, then snatched it away. “Rand al’Thor, I must talk with you seriously.”
Suddenly everything came together in his head. The door had opened. He was smelling filth, not just feeling it, but it was not really a smell. Dropping the letter, he pushed Aviendha away from him hard enough that she toppled with a startled yell—clear of him, though; clear of danger; everything seemed to have slowed down—and seized saidin as he spun.
Nandera and Jalani were just turning back to see what had made Aviendha shout. Rand had to look carefully to see the tall man in a gray coat that neither Maiden saw at all as he glided right by them, dark lifeless eyes fixed on Rand. Even concentrating, Rand found his own gaze wanting to slide past the Gray Man. That was what he was; one of the Shadow’s assassins. As the letter was settling to the floor, the Gray Man realized Rand had seen him. Aviendha’s shout still hung in the air and she was in mid bounce from sitting down hard; a knife appeared in the Gray Man’s hand, held low, and he darted forward. Rand wrapped him in coils of Air almost contemptuously. And a wrist-thick bar of fire flashed past his shoulder, burned a hole through the Gray Man’s chest large enough for a fist. The assassin died before he could twitch; his head fell over, and those eyes, no more dead than they had been, stared at Rand.
Dead, whatever had been done to the Gray Man to make him hard to see no longer held. Dead, he suddenly was as visible as anyone else. Aviendha, just starting to gather herself on the floor, gave a startled yelp, and Rand felt the goose bumps that told him she had embraced saidar. Nandera’s hand jerked toward her veil with a bit-off exclamation, and Jalani half-raised hers.
Rand let the corpse fall, but he held on to saidin as he turned to confront Taim, standing in the doorway of his bedchamber. “Why did you kill him?” Only part of the cold hardness in his voice came from the Void. “I had him captured; he might have told me something, maybe even who sent him. What are you doing here anyway, sneaking in through my bedroom?”
Taim strolled in completely at ease, wearing a black coat with dragons entwined around the sleeves in blue and gold. Aviendha scrambled to her feet, and despite saidar, her eyes said she was as ready to use her drawn belt knife on Taim as she was to sheathe it. Nandera and Jalani had veiled, and stood poised on their toes, spears ready. Taim ignored them; Rand felt the Power leave the man. Taim did not even seem concerned that saidin still filled Rand. That peculiar almost-smile quirked his lips as he glanced at the dead Gray Man.
“Nasty things, the Soulless.” Anybody else would have shivered; not Taim. “I came to your balcony by gateway because I thought you would want to hear the news right away.”
“Somebody who learns too fast?” Rand broke in, and Taim flashed that half-smile again.
“No, not one of the Forsaken in disguise, not unless he’s managed to disguise himself as a boy not much past twenty. His name is Jahar Narishma, and he has the spark, though it has not come out yet. Men usually show later than women. You should return to the school; you would be surprised by the changes.”
Rand did not doubt it. Jahar Narishma was never an Andoran name; Traveling had no limits that he knew, but it seemed Taim’s recruiting had ventured far afield. He said nothing, only glanced at the corpse on the carpet.
Taim grimaced, but he was not out of countenance, only irritated. “Believe me, I wish he was still alive as much as you do. I saw him and acted without thinking; the last thing I want is to see you dead. You seized him the moment I channeled, but it was too late to stop.”
I must kill him, Lews Therin muttered, and the Power surged in Rand. Frozen, he struggled to push saidin away, and it was a struggle. Lews Therin was trying to hang on, trying to channel. Finally, slowly, the One Power faded like water draining from a hole in a bucket.
Why? he demanded. Why do you want to kill him? There was no answer, only mad laughter and weeping in the distance.
Aviendha was looking at him with a face full of concern. She had put up her knife, but the tingle along his skin said she retained saidar. The two Maidens had unveiled, now that it seemed clear Taim’s appearance was no attack; they managed to keep one eye on Taim, one on the rest of the room, and still give each other abashed glances for some reason.
Rand took a chair beside the table where his sword lay atop the Dragon Scepter. The struggle had lasted only moments, but his knees felt weak. Lews Therin had almost taken over, almost taken over saidin at least. Before, at the school, he had been able to fool himself, but not this time.
If Taim noticed anything, he showed no sign of it. Bending to pick up the letter, he glanced at it before handing it to Rand with a minimal bow.
Rand stuffed the parchment into his pocket. Nothing shook Taim; nothing disturbed his balance. Why did Lews Therin want to kill him? “The way you were all for going after the Aes Sedai, I’m surprised you don’t suggest striking at Sammael. You and me together, maybe a few of the stronger students, dropping right on top of him in Illian through a gateway. That man had to come from Sammael.”
“Perhaps,” Taim said shortly, glancing at the Gray Man. “I would give a great deal to be sure.” That had the ring of simple truth. “As for Illian, I doubt it would be as simple as disposing of a pair of Aes Sedai. I keep thinking what I would do in Sammael’s place. I would have Illian warded in boxes, so if a man even thought of channeling, I’d know right where he was, and I would burn even the ground to ash before he had time to take a breath.”
That was how Rand saw it, too; no one knew better than Sammael how to defend a place. Maybe it was just that Lews Therin was insane. Maybe jealous, too. Rand tried to tell himself he had not been avoiding the school because he was jealous, but he always felt a prickle of something around Taim. “You’ve delivered your news. I suggest you go see to training this Jahar Narishma. Train him well. He may have to use his ability soon enough.”
For a moment Taim’s dark eyes glittered, then he bowed his head slightly. Without a word he seized saidin and opened a gateway right there. Rand made himself sit, empty, until the man was gone, the gateway thinning in a blazing line of light; he could not risk another struggle with Lews Therin, not when he might lose and find himself fighting Taim. Why did Lews Therin want the man dead? Light, Lews Therin seemed to want everybo