Robert Jordan - The Fires of Heaven

But when they went back into the inner room, the report was not to be found. There were plenty of documents — Joline's letter had reappeared; a brief reading made Egwene's eyebrows climb nearly to her hair — but not the one that they wanted.

"Can you remember what it said?" Egwene asked.

"I had just gotten a few lines when you shouted, and… I just can't remember."

"Try, Nynaeve. Try very hard."

"I am, Egwene, but it will not come. I am trying."

What she was doing hit Nynaeve like a sudden hammer between the eyes. Excusing herself. To Egwene, a girl whose bottom she had switched for throwing a tantrum not more than two years ago. And a moment earlier she had been proud as a hen with a new egg because Egwene was pleased with her. She remembered quite clearly the day when the balance between them had shifted, when they ceased being the Wisdom and the girl who fetched when the Wisdom said fetch, becoming instead just two women far from home. It seemed that balance had shifted further, and she did not like it. She was going to have to do something to move it back where it belonged.

The lie. She had deliberately lied to Egwene for the first time ever today. That was why her moral authority had vanished, why she was floundering around, unable to assert herself properly. "I drank the tea, Egwene." She forced each word deliberately. She had to force them. "The Macura woman's forkroot tea. She and Luci hauled us upstairs like sacks of feathers. That is about how much strength we had between us. If Thom and Juilin hadn't come to pull us out by the scruffs of our necks, we would probably be there still. Or else on our way to the Tower, so full of forkroot we wouldn't wake up until we got here." Taking a deep breath, she tried for a tone of righteous firmness, but it was difficult when you had just confessed to having been an utter fool. What came out sounded much more tentative than she liked. "If you tell the Wise Ones about this — especially that Melaine — I'll box your ears."

Something in that should have sparked Egwene's ire. It seemed odd to want to start a row — usually their quarrels were over Egwene refusing to see reason, and they seldom ended pleasantly, since the girl had formed the habit of continuing to refuse — but that was certainly better than this. Yet Egwene only smiled at her. An amused smile. A condescending amused smile.

"I more than suspected as much, Nynaeve. You used to drone on about herbs day and night, but you never mentioned any plant called forkroot. I was sure you'd never heard of it until that woman mentioned it. You've always tried to put the best face on things. If you fell head first into a pigsty, you'd try to convince everybody you did it on purpose. Now, what we have to decide —"

"I do no such thing," Nynaeve spluttered.

"You certainly do. Facts are facts. You might as well stop whining about it and help me decide —"

Whining! This was not going at all the way she wanted. "They are no such thing. Not facts, I mean. I have never done what you said."

For a moment Egwene stared at her silently. "You will not let go of this, will you? Very well. You lied to me…"

"It was not a lie," she muttered. "Not exactly."

The other woman ignored her interruption. "…And you lie to yourself. Do you remember what you made me drink the last time I lied to you?" Suddenly a cup was in her hand, full of viscous sickly green liquid; it looked as if it had been scooped from a scummy stagnant pond. "The only time I ever lied to you. The memory of that taste was an effective discouragement. If you cannot tell the truth even to yourself…"

Nynaeve took a step back before she could stop herself. Boiled catfern and powdered mavinsleaf; her tongue writhed at just the thought. "I did not really lie, actually." Why was she making excuses? "I just didn't tell the whole truth." I am the Wisdom! I was the Wisdom; that ought to count for something still. "You cannot really think…" Just tell her. You're not the child here, and you certainly are not going to drink. "Egwene, I —" Egwene pushed the cup nearly under her nose; she could smell the acrid tang. "All right," she said hastily. This can't be happening! But she could not take her eyes off that brimming cup, and she could not stop the words tumbling out. "Sometimes I try to make things look better for myself than they were. Sometimes. But never anything important. I've never — lied — about anything important. Never, I swear. Only small things." The cup vanished, and Nynaeve heaved a sigh of relief. Fool, fool woman! She couldn't have made you drink it! What is wrong with you?

"What we have to decide," Egwene said as if nothing at all had happened, "is who to tell. Moiraine certainly has to know, and Rand, but if everyone hears of it… The Aiel are peculiar, about Aes Sedai no less than anything else. I think they'll follow Rand as He Who Comes With the Dawn in spite of anything, but once they learn the White Tower is against him, maybe they won't be so fervent."

"They'll learn sooner or later," Nynaeve muttered. She could not have made me drink it!

"Later better than sooner, Nynaeve. So don't you go bursting out in a temper and telling the Wise Ones about this at our next meeting. In fact, it would be best if you didn't mention this visit to the Tower at all. That way maybe you can keep it secret."

"I am not a fool," Nynaeve said stiffly, and felt a slow burn when Egwene quirked that eyebrow at her again. She was not about to bring the visit up with the Wise Ones. Not because it was easier defying them behind their backs. Nothing like that. And she was not trying to put a good face on things. It was not fair that Egwene could leap about Tel'aran'rhiod however she wanted, while she had to put up with lectures and bullying.

"I know you are not," Egwene said. "Unless you let your temper get the better of you. You need to hold your temper and keep your wits about you if you're right about the Forsaken, especially Moghedien." Nynaeve glowered at her, opening her mouth to say that she could too keep her temper and she would smack Egwene's ears if she thought differently, but the other woman gave her no chance. "We must find that gathering of Blue sisters, Nynaeve. If they oppose Elaida, maybe — just maybe — they will support Rand the way Siuan did. Was a town mentioned, or a village? A country, even?"

"I think… I cannot remember." She struggled to take the defensive note out of her voice. Light, I confessed everything, made a fool of myself and it's only made things worse! "I will keep trying."

"Good. We must find them, Nynaeve." For a moment Egwene studied her, while she refused to repeat herself. "Nynaeve, take care concerning Moghedien. Do not go rushing off like a bear in spring just because she got away from you in Tanchico."

"I am not a fool, Egwene," Nynaeve said carefully. It was frustrating having to hold her temper, but if all Egwene would do was ignore it or scold her, there was nothing to be gained beyond looking a bigger ninnyhead than she did already.

"I know. You said that. Just be sure you remember it. Be careful." Egwene did not fade away this time; she vanished, as suddenly as Birgitte.

Nynaeve stared at the spot where she had been, running through her head all the things she should have said. Finally she realized that she could stand there all night; she was repeating herself, and the time for saying anything was past. Grumbling under her breath, she stepped out of Tel'aran'rhiod, back to her bed in Sienda.

Egwene's eyes popped open in near total darkness, broken only by a little moonlight streaming in through the smoke hole. She was glad to be under a pile of blankets; the fire was out, and freezing cold filled the tent. Her breath turned to mist in front of her face. Without raising her head, she scanned the interior. No Wise Ones. She was still alone.