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e former soldiers and tavern brawlers。 They seemed as fearful of the Trollocs as the Tairens did； but they killed as indiscriminately； where they could。 Twice Rand actually saw Trollocs battling Trollocs。 He could only assume the Myrddraal had lost control of them and their blood…lust had taken over。 If they wanted to
slay each other； he left them to it。
Then； alone once more and seeking； he trotted 'round a corner and right into three Trollocs； each twice as wide as he and nearly half again as tall。 One of them； with an eagle's hooked beak thrusting out of an otherwise human face； was hacking an arm from the corpse of a Tairen noblewoman while the other two watched eagerly； licking their snouts。 Trollocs ate anything； so long as it was meat。 It was an even chance whether he was more surprised or they were； but he was the first to recover。
The one with the eagle's beak went down； mail and belly alike opened across。 The sword…form called Lizard in the Thornbush should have done for the other two； but that first fallen Trolloc； thrashing still； half…kicked his foot out from under him； and he staggered； his blade only scoring a slice along his target's mail； right into the path of the second Trolloc as it fell； wolf's muzzle snapping at nothing。 It crushed him to the stone tiles beneath its bulk； trapping sword arm and sword alike。 The one still standing raised its spiked axe； ing as close to a smile as a boar's snout and tusks would allow。 Rand struggled to move； to breathe。
A scythe…curved sword split the boar's snout to the neck。
Wrenching its blade free； a fourth Trolloc bared goat teeth at him in a snarl； ears twitching beside its horns。 Then it darted away； sharp hooves clicking on the floor tiles。
Rand heaved himself out from under the dead weight of the Trolloc； half…stunned。 A Trolloc saved me。 A Trolloc？ Trolloc blood was all over him； thick and dark。 Far down the hallway； in the opposite direction from where the goat…horned Trolloc had fled； blue…white flashed as two Myrddraal moved into view。 Fighting each other； in an almost boneless blur of continuous motion。 One forced the other into a crossing corridor； and the flashing light faded from sight。 I'm mad。 That's what it is。 I am mad； and this is all some crazed dream。
〃You risk everything； rushing about wildly with that。。。 that sword。〃
Rand turned to face Lanfear。 She had put on the appearance of a girl again； no older than he； perhaps younger。 She lifted her white skirts to step over the Tairen lady's torn body； for all the emotion on her face； it might as well have been a log。
〃You build a hut of twigs；〃 she went on； 〃when you could have marble palaces for the snap of your fingers。 You could have had their lives and such souls as Trollocs possess with little effort； and instead they nearly killed you。 You must learn。 Join with me。〃
〃Was this your doing？〃 he demanded。 〃That Trolloc； saving me？ Those Myrddraal？ Was it？〃
She considered him a moment before giving a slight； regretful shake of her head。 〃If I take credit； you will expect it again； and that could be deadly。 None of the others is really certain where I stand； and I like it that way。 You can expect no open aid from me。〃
〃Expect your aid？〃 he growled。 〃You want me to turn to the Shadow。 You can't make me forget what you are with soft words。〃 He channeled； and she slammed against a wall hanging hard enough to make her grunt。 He held her there； spread…eagled over a woven hunting scene； feet off the floor and snowy gown spread out and flattened。 How had he blocked Egwene and Elayne？ He had to remember。
Suddenly he flew across the hallway to crash into the wall opposite Lanfear； pressed there like an insect by something that barely allowed him to breathe。
Lanfear appeared to have no trouble breathing。 〃Whatever you can do； Lews Therin； I can do。 And better。〃 Pinned against the wall as she was； she seemed unperturbed。 The din of fighting surged up somewhere nearby； then faded as the battle moved away。 〃You half…use the smallest fraction of what you are capable of； and walk away from what would allow you to crush all who e against you。 Where is Callandor； Lews Therin？ Still up in your bedchamber like some useless ornament？ Do you think yours is the only hand that can wield it； now that you have drawn it free？ If Sammael is here； he will take it； and use it against you。 Even Moghedien would take it to deny you its use； she could gain much by trading it to any male Chosen。〃
He struggled against whatever held him； nothing moved but his head； flung from side to side。 Callandor in the hands of a male Forsaken。 The thought drove him half…mad with fear and frustration。 He channeled； tried to pry at what held him； but there might as well have been nothing to pry。 And then abruptly it was gone； he lurched away from the wall； still fighting； before he realized he was free。 And from nothing he had done。
He looked at Lanfear。 She still hung there； as placently as if taking the air on a streamside。 She was trying to lull him； to gull him into softening toward her。 He hesitated over the flows holding her。 If he tied them off and left her； she might tear half the Stone down trying to get free … if a passing Trolloc did not kill her； thinking she was one of the Stone's folk。 That should not have troubled him … not the death of a Forsaken … but the thought of leaving a woman； or anyone； helpless for Trollocs repelled him。 A glance at her unruffled posure rid him of that thought。 No one； nothing； in the Stone would harm her as long as she could channel。 If he could find Moiraine to block her。。。
Once more Lanfear took the decision from him。 The impact of severed flows jolted him； and she dropped lightly to the floor。 He stared as she stepped away from the wall； calmly brushing her skirts。 〃You can't do that；〃 he gasped foolishly； and she smiled。
〃I do not have to see a flow to unravel it； if I know what it is and where。 You see； you have much to learn。 I like you like this。 You were always too stiff…necked and sure of yourself for fort。 It was always better when you were a bit uncertain of your footing。 Are you forgetting Callandor； then？〃
Still he hesitated。 One of the Forsaken stood there。 And there was absolutely nothing he could do。 Turning； he ran for Callandor。 Her laughter seemed to follow him。
This time he did not turn aside to fight Trollocs or Myrddraal； did not slow his wild climb through the Stone unless they got in his way。 Then his sword carved of fire sliced a way through for him。 He saw Perrin and Faile； he with axe in hand； she guarding his back with her knives； the Trollocs seemed as reluctant to face Perrin's yellow…eyed stare as his axe blade。 Rand left them behind without a second look。 If one of the Forsaken took Callandor； none of them would live to see the sun rise。
Breathless； he scrambled through the columned anteroom； leaping the dead still lying there； Defenders and Trollocs alike； in his haste to reach Callandor。 He flung open both doors。 The Sword That Is Not a Sword sat on its gilded and gem…set stand； shining with the light of the setting sun。 Wa