The harp was never meant for a farmer's clumsy fingers, boy. It fit, in a way, with what I planned for him, but you and I never spoke of teaching him any of that. We live in perilous times, and the world hangs in the balance, and what must be done, must be done. So firm was the plump Aes Sedai's manner that she was already herding Ingtar to the door before she finished speaking.
We will keep you hidden from the Amyrlin, or from any other Aes Sedai, if that is what you want. The voice was like a thin breeze whispering in the back of his head, a thin, icy murmur working its way into the crevices of his mind. Smoke curled up as oil burned off the blade, but before the metal could turn red, he pushed charts out o You've likely just convinced everyone in the room you are in some deep part of the Game.
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