“I don’t take chances, Moiraine. Mat’s the fellow for chances.” Rand forced his right hand open; the angreal, the fat little man, had driven the point of its sword into his flesh, right into the branded heron. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I did need one a little stronger. A little bit, maybe … .” He gave a huffing laugh. “It worked, Moiraine. That is what’s important. I’ve outrun them all. It worked.” “That is what matters,” Lan said, nodding.
