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our head。〃 Difficult to do； but deadly if acplished。 He did not think he would ever want Loial … gentle； fumbling Loial with his broad nose always in a book … to bee angry with him。
It was Loial who took the lead once they reached the site of the vanished Ogier grove； bending their path a little southward。 There were no landmarks； but he was sure of his direction； surer with every pace of the horses。 Ogier could feel a Waygate； sense it somehow； find it as certainly as a bee could find the hive。 When Loial finally dismounted； the grass was little more than knee…high on him。 There was only a thick clump of brush to be seen； taller than most； leafy shrubs as tall as the Ogier。 He ripped it all away almost regretfully； stacking it to one side。 〃Perhaps the boys with the horses can use it for firewood when it dries。〃
And there was the Waygate。
Rearing against the side of the hill； it appeared more a length of gray wall than a gate； and the wall of a palace at that； thickly carved in leaves and vines so finely done that they seemed almost as alive as the bushes had been。 Three thousand years at least it had stood there； but not a trace of weathering marred its surface。 Those leaves could have rippled with the next breeze。
For a moment they all stared at it silently； until Loial took a deep breath and put his hand on the one leaf that was different from any other on the Waygate。 The trefoil leaf of Avendesora； the fabled Tree of Life。 Until the moment his huge hand touched it； it seemed as much a part of the carving as all the rest； but it came away easily。
Faile gasped loudly； and even the Aiel murmured。 The air was full of the smell of unease； there was no saying who it came from。 All of them； perhaps。
The stone leaves did seem to stir from an unfelt breeze now； they took a tinge of green； of life。 Slowly a split appeared down the middle； and the halves of the Waygate opened out； revealing not the hill behind； but a dull shimmering that faintly reflected their images。
〃Once； it is said；〃 Loial murmured； 〃the Waygates shone like mirrors； and those who walked the Ways walked through the sun and the sky。 Gone； now。 Like this grove。〃
Hastily pulling one of the filled pole…lanterns from his pack…horse； Perrin got it alight。 〃It is too hot out here；〃 he said。 〃A little shade would be good。〃 He booted Stepper toward the Waygate。 He thought he heard Faile gasp again。
The dun stallion balked； approaching his own dim reflection； but Perrin heeled him onward。 Slowly； he remembered。 It should be done slowly。 The horse's nose touched its image hesitantly； then merged in as though walking into a mirror。 Perrin moved closer to himself； touched。。。 Icy cold slid along his skin； enveloping him hair by hair； time stretched out。
The cold vanished like a pricked bubble； and he was in the midst of endless blackness； the light of his pole…lantern a crushed pool around him。 Stepper and the packhorse whickered nervously。
Gaul stepped through calmly and began preparing another lantern。 Behind him was what seemed like a sheet of smoked glass。 The others were visible out there； Loial getting back on his horse； Faile gathering her reins； all of them creeping； barely moving。 Time was different inside the Ways。
〃Faile is upset with you；〃 Gaul said once he had his lantern alight。 It did not add much illumination。 The darkness drank in light； swallowed it。 〃She seems to think you have broken some sort of agreement。 Bain and Chiad。。。 Do not let them get you alone。 They mean to teach you a lesson； for Faile's sake； and you will not sit on that animal so easily if they manage what they plan。〃
〃I agreed to nothing； Gaul。 I do what she's forced me to do through trickery。 We will have to follow Loial as she wants soon enough； but I mean to take the lead for as long as I can。〃 He pointed to a thick white line under Stepper's hooves。 Broken and heavily pitted； it led off ahead； vanishing in the blackness only a few feet away。 〃That leads to the first guidepost。 We will need to wait there for Loial to read it and decide which bridge to take； but Faile can follow us that far。〃
〃Bridge；〃 Gaul murmured thoughtfully。 〃I know that word。 There is water in here？〃
〃No。 It isn't exactly that kind of bridge。 They look the same； sort of； but。。。 Maybe Loial can explain it。〃
The Aielman scratched his head。 〃Do you know what you are doing； Perrin？〃
〃No；〃 Perrin admitted； 〃but there's no reason for Faile to know that。〃
Gaul laughed。 〃It is fun to be so young； is it not； Perrin？〃
Frowning； uncertain whether the man was laughing at him； Perrin heeled Stepper on； drawing the packhorse behind。 The lantern light would not be visible at all in here twenty or thirty paces from its edge。 He wanted to be pletely out of sight before Faile came through。 Let her think he had decided to go on without her。 If she worried for a few minutes； until she found him at the guidepost； it was the least she deserved。
Chapter 19
（8…Pointed Star and Birds）
The Wavedancer
With the golden sun barely over the horizon； the shiny black…lacquered carriage rocked to a halt at the foot of the wharf behind a team of four matched grays； and the lanky dark…haired driver in his black…and…gold striped coat leaped down to open the door。 No sigil adorned the door panel； of course； Tairen nobles gave aid to Aes Sedai only under duress； no matter how effusive the smiles； and none wanted their names or houses linked to the Tower。
Elayne got down gratefully without waiting for Nynaeve； straightening her blue linen summer traveling cloak； the streets of the Maule were rutted by carts and wagons； and the carriage's leather springs had not been very good。 A breeze slanting across the Erinin actually seemed cool after the heat of the Stone。 She had intended to show no effects of the rough ride； but once upright she could not help knuckling the small of her back。 At least last night's rain still holds the dust down； she thought。 She suspected that they had been given a carriage without curtains on purpose。
North and south of her； more docks like wide stone fingers stretched into the river。 The air smelled of tar and rope； fish and spices and olive oil； of nameless things rotting in the stagnant water between the piers and peculiar long yellow…green fruits in huge bunches heaped in front of the stone warehouse behind her。 Despite the early hour； men wearing leather vests on shiftless shoulders scurried about； toting large bundles on bent backs or pushing handcarts piled with barrels or crates。 None spared her more than a passing sullen glance； dark eyes falling quickly； forelock touched grudgingly； most did not raise their heads at all。 She was sad to see it。
These Tairen nobles had handled their people badly。 Mishandled them was more like it。 In Andor she could have expected cheerful smiles and a respectful word of greeting； freely given by straight…backed men who knew their worth as well as hers。 It was almost enough to make her regret leaving。 She had been raised to lead and one day govern a proud people； and she felt the urge to teach these folk