The Power sank into that black mist and vanished, soaked up like water on parched sand. They would have music and dancing, and fans and ices to dispel the year's first real heat, but carnival filled the streets, too, in the moon-bright muggy night. As Egwene and Nynaeve turned to obey, a servant appeared at Lord Agelmar's shoulder with a silver chalice. Not again.
She tossed them aside and donned the sul'dam's dress. She touched her chest absently, as if feeling something through her coat. The stout proprietress, with her hair rolled at the back of her head, was wiping a mug, keeping a sharp eye on her establishment. Loial's a friend, Perrin said, at the same time that Mat said, He doesn't get in the way, and he carries his own weight.
Join the newsletter to receive news, updates, new products and freebies in your inbox.