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locs。
Stepper's hooves crunched on gritty dirt as Perrin turned him to see where they were。
Cloud…capped mountains rose all around； it was the everpresent clouds that gave them their name； the Mountains of Mist。 The air was cool at this altitude； even in summer； especially pared to Tear。 The late…afternoon sun sat on the western peaks； glinting on streams running down to the river that coursed along the floor of the long valley below。 The Manetherendrelle； it was called once it had traveled out of the mountains and much farther west and south； but Perrin had grown up calling the length of it that ran along the south edge of the Two Rivers the White River； an uncrossable stretch of rapids that churned its waters to froth。 The Manetherendrelle。 Waters of the Mountain Home。
Where bare rock showed in the valley below or on the surrounding slopes； it glittered like glass。 Once a city had stood there； covering valley and mountains。 Manetheren； city of soaring spires and splashing fountains； capital of a great nation of the same name； perhaps the most beautiful city in the world； according to old Ogier tales。 Gone now without a trace； except for the all…but…indestructible Waygate that had stood in the Ogier grove。 Burned to barren rock more than two thousand years ago； while the Trolloc Wars still raged； destroyed by the One Power after the death of its last king； Aemon al'Caar al'Thorin； in his last bloody battle against the Shadow。 Aemon's Field； men had named that place； where the village called Emond's Field now stood。
Perrin shivered。 That was long ago。 Trollocs had e once since； on Winternight more than a year gone； the night before he and Rand and Mat were forced to flee in the darkness with Moiraine。 That seemed long ago； too； now。 It could not happen again； with the Waygate locked。 It's Whitecloaks I have to worry about； not Trollocs。
A pair of white…winged hawks wheeled above the far end of the valley。 Perrin's eyes barely caught the streak of a rising arrow。 One of the hawks cartwheeled and fell； and Perrin frowned。 Why would anyone shoot a hawk up here in the mountains？ Over a farm； if it was after the chickens or the geese； but up here？ Why would anyone even be up here？ Two Rivers people avoided the mountains。
The second hawk swooped on snowy wings toward where its mate had fallen； but suddenly it was climbing desperately。 A black cloud of ravens burst from the trees； surrounding it in wild melee； and when they settled again； the hawk was gone。
Perrin made himself breathe。 He had seen ravens； and other birds； attack a hawk that came too close to their nests before； but he could not make himself believe it that simple this time。 The birds had burst up from about where the arrow had risen。 Ravens。 The Shadow used animals as spies； sometimes。 Rats and others that fed on death； usually。 Ravens； especially。 He had sharp memories of running from sweeping lines of ravens that had hunted him as though they had intelligence。
〃What are you staring at？〃 Faile asked； shading her eyes to peer down the valley。 〃Were those birds？〃
〃Just birds；〃 he said。 Maybe they were。 I can't frighten everybody until I'm sure。 Not while they're still shaky from Machin Shin。
He was still holding his bloody hammer； he realized； slick with black Myrddraal blood。 His fingers found drying blood on his cheek； matting in his short beard。 When he climbed down； his side and his leg burned。 He found a shirt in his saddlebags to clean the hammer before the Fade's blood etched the metal。 In a moment he would find out if there was anything to fear in these mountains。 If it was more than men； the wolves would know。
Faile began unbuttoning his coat。
〃What are you doing？〃 he demanded。
〃Tending your wounds；〃 she snapped back。 〃I'll not have you bleeding to death on me。 That would be just like you； to die and leave me the work of burying you。 You have no consideration。 Hold still。〃
〃Thank you；〃 he said quietly； and she looked surprised。
She made him strip off everything but his smallclothes； so she could wash his wounds； rub them with ointment fetched from her saddlebags。 He could not see the cut on his face； of course； but it seemed small and shallow； if unfortably close to his eye。 The slash across his left side was over a hand long； though； straight along a rib； and the hole a spear had made in his right thigh was deep。 Faile had to put stitches in that； with needle and thread from her sewing kit。 He took it stoically； she was the one who winced at every stitch。 She muttered angrily under her breath the whole time she worked； especially while rubbing her dark stinging cream into his cheek； looking almost as if the hurts were hers； and his fault； yet she tied bandages around his ribs and his thigh with a gentle hand。 It made a startling contrast； her soft touch and her furious grumbles。 Purely confusing。
While he donned a clean shirt and a spare pair of breeches from his saddlebags； Faile stood fingering the slice in the side of his coat。 Two inches to the right； and he would not have left that Island。 Stamping his feet in his boots； he reached for his coat … and she flung it at him。
〃You needn't think I will sew that up for you。 I've done all the sewing for you I mean to！ Do you hear me； Perrin Aybara？〃
〃I didn't ask 〃
〃You needn't think it！ That's all！〃 She stalked away to help the Aiel tend each other and Loial。 That was an odd group； the Ogier with his baggy breeches off； Gaul and Chiad eyeing each other like strange cats； Faile spreading her ointment and wrapping bandages and all the while shooting accusing glares at him。 What was he supposed to have done now？
Perrin shook his head。 Gaul was right； he decided； as well try to understand the sun。
Even knowing what he had to do now； he was reluctant； especially after what had happened in the Ways； with the Fade。 Once he had seen a man who had forgotten he was human。 The same could happen to him。 Fool。 You only have to hold out a few more days。 Just till you find the Whitecloaks。 And he had to know。 Those ravens。
He sent his mind questing across the valley for the wolves。 There were always wolves where men were not； and if they were close； he could talk with them。 Wolves avoided men； ignored them as much as possible； but they hated Trollocs for unnatural things； and despised Myrddraal with a hatred too deep to hold。 If Shadowspawn were in the Mountains of Mist； the wolves could tell him。
But he found no wolves。 None。 They should have been there； in this wilderness。 He could see deer browsing down in the valley。 Perhaps it was just that no wolves were close enough。 They could talk over some distance； but even a mile was too far。 Maybe it was less in mountains。 That could be it。
His gaze swept across the cloud…capped peaks and settled on the valley's far end； where the ravens had e from。 Maybe he would find wolves tomorrow。 He did not want to think of the alternatives。
Chapter 28
（Wolf）
To the Tower of Ghenjei
With night so near； they had no choice but to camp there on the mountain near the Waygate。 In two camps。 Fa