The two regarded her with suspicion.
"I suspected as much," Egwene said. She turned to a group of novices who were standing in a side corridor, pretending to scrub the tiles on the side wall while they gawked at Egwene.
"You," Egwene said, pointing to one of them. "Marsial, isn't it?"
"Yes, Mother," the girl squeaked.
"Go and fetch us some forkroot tea. Katerine should have some at the study of the Mistress of Novices. It's not far. Tell her that Barasine requested it for use on me; bring it to my quarters."
The novice scrambled off to do as asked.
"I'll dose myself with that, and then at least one of you can go," Egwene said. "Your Ajah is collapsing. They're going to need all of the clear minds they can get; maybe you can convince your sisters that it is unwise to let Elaida execute Silviana."
The two Reds glanced at each other uncertainly. Then the spindly one whose name Egwene didn't know cursed softly and hurried away with a flurry of rustling skirts. Barasine called after her, but the woman didn't return.
Barasine glanced at Egwene, muttered something under her breath, but remained in place. "We're waiting for that forkroot," she said, staring Egwene in the eyes. "Keep moving on to your quarters."
"Fine," Egwene said. "But each minute you delay could cost you deeply."
They climbed the stairs to the new novices' quarters, which were scrunched up alongside the remainder of the Brown section of the Tower. They stopped by Egwene's door to wait for the forkroot. As they stood there, novices began to crowd around. In the distant corridors, sisters and their Warders ran through hallways with a sense of urgency. Hopefully, the Hall would be able to do something to contain Elaida. If she really went so far as to execute sisters for simply disagreeing with her. . . .
The wide-eyed novice finally returned with a cup and a small packet of herbs. Barasine inspected the packet and apparently determined that it was satisfactory, for she dumped it into the cup and proffered it to Egwene expectantly. With a sigh, Egwene took it and downed the entire cup of warm water. It was enough of a dose that she wouldn't be able to channel a trickle, but hopefully wouldn't be strong enough to render her unconscious.
Barasine turned and hurried away, leaving Egwene alone in the hallway. Not just alone, but alone and able to do exactly as she wished. She didn't get many of these opportunities.
Well, she'd have to see what she could do with that. But first, she'd need to change out of this filthy, bloodstained dress, and wash herself, too. She pushed open the door to her quarters.
And found someone sitting inside.
"Hello, Egwene," Verin said, taking a sip from a steaming cup of tea. "My! I was beginning to wonder if I'd have to break into that cell of yours in order to speak with you."
Egwene shook off her shock. Verin? When had the woman returned to the White Tower? How long had it been since Egwene had seen her? "There isn't time right now, Verin," she said, quickly opening the small locker that contained her extra dress. "I have work to be about."
"Hmm, yes," Verin said, taking a calm sip of her tea. "I suspect that you do. By the way, that dress you are wearing is green."
Egwene frowned at the nonsense sentence, glancing down at her dress. Of course it wasn't green. What was Verin saying? Had the woman become—
She froze, glancing at Verin.
That had been a lie. Verin could speak lies.
"Yes, I thought that might get your attention," Verin said, smiling. "You should sit down. We have much to discuss and little time in which to do it."
CHAPTER 39
A Visit from Verin Sedai
You never held the Oath Rod," Egwene accused her, still standing by the closet. Verin remained on the side of the bed, sipping her tea. The stout woman wore a simple brown dress with a matronly cut through the bosom and a thick leather belt at the waist. The skirts were divided, and judging from the dirty boots peeking out from under the hem, she had only just arrived back in the White Tower.
"Don't be silly." Verin brushed back a lock of hair that had escaped from her bun; the brown was marked with a pronounced streak of gray. "Child, I held the Oath Rod and swore upon it before your grandmother was born."
"Then you've had the Oaths removed," Egwene said. It was possible with the Oath Rod—after all, Yukiri, Saerin and the others had removed their oaths and replaced them.
"Well, yes," Verin said in a motherly way.
"I don't trust you," Egwene found herself blurting. "I don't think I ever have."
"Very wise," Verin said, sipping her tea. It was not a scent Egwene recognized. "I am, after all, of the Black Ajah."