If there is anyone left, perhaps they can tell us what happened here, and maybe a little more about these Seanchan. Sometimes, at night, in the small, smelly room the two of them had rented above a fishmonger, she thought of what she would like to do to Liandrin when she got her hands on her. Nynaeve threw up her hands. There were only women here, of course, no men.
Min spoke absently, still squinting at them and frowning; it was a conversation they had had before. Almost as horrible to learn the Dark One himself walked Fal Dara keep. His staff was black, too, as if the wood had been charred, yet smooth and shining like water by moonlight. A fire would give them away to those for whom they watched.
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