“Go!” the man shouted. “You have had your answers. You must go before it is too late!” Abruptly a dozen of the yellow-clad men were around Mat, seeming to appear out of the air, trying to pull him toward the door. He fought with fists, elbows, knees. “What fate? Burn your hearts, what fate?” It was the room itself that pealed, the walls and floor quivering, nearly taking Mat and his attackers off their feet. “What fate?” The three were on their feet atop the pedestals, and he could not tell which shrieked which answer. “To marry the Daughter of the Nine Moons!” “To die and live again, and live
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