Knife of Dreams (The Wheel of Time, #11)

by Robert Jordan

“Aes Sedai, Asha’man, Aiel, your eyes, that hammer, now this! Who are you?” Mishima whistled through his teeth. “Suroth herself,” he murmured. “I’m a man who wants his wife back,” Perrin said, “and I’ll deal with the Dark One to get her.”

“How many children’s tales do you believe? Do you believe that if you sleep on Old Hob’s Hill under a full moon, the snakes will give you true answers to three questions, or that foxes steal people’s skins and take the nourishment from food so you can starve to death while eating your fill?”

“One of my questions for the Aelfinn was ‘How can I win the Last Battle?’ ”

“In the War of the Shadow, we did not huddle in our stedding, hoping no Trollocs or Myrddraal would be driven to enter. We did not open the Book of Translation and flee. We marched alongside the humans and fought the Shadow. In the Trolloc Wars, we neither hid in the stedding nor opened the Book of Translation. We marched with the humans and fought the Shadow. In the darkest years, when hope seemed gone, we fought the Shadow.”

“My name is Nynaeve ti al’Meara Mandragoran. The message I want sent is this. My husband rides from World’s End toward Tarwin’s Gap, toward Tarmon Gai’don. Will he ride alone?”

“The Golden Crane flies for Tarmon Gai’don,” he said softly.

“My name is Rand al’Thor. I’m the Dragon Reborn.” If they had wept at hearing Semirhage’s name, they wailed at hearing his.