"Mirin, turn off the lamp," he said. He took a seat next to the young Indigo sister and leaned over the Accepted laying in the bed. "What is her name?"
"Jalisa Andomer," said Mirin. Her tone was flat. Emmond turned to look over his shoulder. The dark-haired woman was frowning at the lamp, her slender fingers fiddling with the latch that held open the cover. He seized saidin and channeled a thin thread of Air to flip the latch and plunge the windowless room into darkness.
With his senses enhanced by the Power, he heard Mirin hiss quietly through her teeth. Lovely. He laughed under his breath as he reached through the dark to touch Elia's arm. Her skin was soft, and her Great Serpent ring was smooth to the touch. He ran his thumb along back of her arm.
"I do not need the ter'angreal to enter the World of Dreams, Elia. Sleep and I will find you. And Mirin, please stay and keep watch," he said.
He leaned back into the chair, his hand still brushing Elia's arm, and closed his eyes. Slow, deep breaths, in and out.
-----
"Elia! It is just a dream!"
"But it's so...."
"ELIA!! NO!"
He stretched out with his hand though his reach fell short. With all the force he could muster, he strained to bend the world to his will.
-----
Emmond leapt out of the chair with a shout and hit his foot against the frame of the bed. Pain shot up his leg. He cursed. His skin prickled and a globe of light appeared. Mirin rushed to him, her eyes wide with alarm, but he shook his head.
"Elia," he said, hoarsely. "Delve her." What the bloody hell was that? He had walked in dreams for decades, yet he had never seen anything like the nightmare that had chased them. Jalisa was awake now and screaming her bloody head off. Emmond seized saidin and used weaves of Air to tie her to the bed. Then he wove a ward of silence to shut out the noise. He tied the weave and her cries abruptly stopped, leaving the room eerily silent. The back of his neck prickled. He spun around, almost expecting to see those eyes. There was only blank, stone wall. I'm awake, he reminded himself, barely suppressing a shudder. He glanced at Jalisa. Oh Light, I hope that I am not going mad.
Mirin bent over the younger Aes Sedai. The prickling on his skin grew stronger. Emmond watched her, chewing his lip worriedly. Elia. Young, bright, beautiful Elia. So talented. So useful. Emmond recruited his people carefully. Each was introduced to the Shadow only after years of observation. And once they joined the Black Ajah, he watched them jealously. His people.... my people. Elia had been nearly paralyzed in the nightmare that had swallowed them. Emmond hoped that her mind had not been damaged beyond repair.
Suddenly, her eyes opened, revealing a lovely shade of green, darkened by the lamplight. The prickling stopped.
"Is she well?"
"Yes," answered Mirin. "A little tense, but unhurt. In both body and mind." She shot him a meaningful look, and Emmond let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. He moved to kneel before Elia.
"Can you stand?"
She nodded. He helped her to her feet.
"Go rest, Elia," he said. Her forehead crinkled.
"Wait. Don't we need to talk about what happened?"
She glanced at Mirin. Emmond felt a twinge of irritation.
"We can talk later," he said, firmly. "You need to rest. Now."
Almost, he thought she was going to refuse. But then she pulled away and walked to the door. As soon as the door closed, Mirin moved forward. Emmond wrapped her in his arms, trying not to tremble. How did she remain so steady? They stood quietly, finding comfort in each other's warmth.
His thoughts turned again to the nightmare. Dreams must be interpreted, but most were fickle and lead the interpreter astray. He did not understand the eyes nor the wings nor the fire. But he remembered the crumbling tower in the distance, a mere glimpse seen through a cloud of smoke and lightning, and he knew what that meant.
"The Tower is in danger," he whispered.
Mirin tensed. "We need to tell the Supreme Council," she said. Emmond nodded absently. She did not know that he was part of the Supreme Council and the leader of the entire Black Ajah. It was a secret well-kept by weaves of disguise and voice modulation.
"Yes. I will tell them. And we must prepare to fight."
"What? Fight?! Emmond, this is not our fight! We fight for the Great Lord, and Him alone. We must flee. The Great Lord is the only one who -"
He cut her off. "Spare me your false piety. The Great Lord will not help us. We fight, not for the Tower, but for our survival. You will send messages to those of your heart to prepare for war. Tonight." So much needed to be done. So little time.
"Emmond." Her voice trembled faintly, finally betraying her fear. "I don't want to fight."
Too late, he remembered that Mirin had never seen war. He cupped her chin tenderly.
"We will fight whether you like it or not, my dear."
