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er； and blackness swallowed the room again。 Abruptly the caged birds broke into a frenzy of chirruping； their wings fluttered frantically against the bamboo bars。
Behind her； a voice rasped like rock being ground to dust。 〃The Great Lord thought you might not take their word； Graendal。 The time when you could go your own way has passed。〃 A ball of。。。 something。。。 appeared in the air； a dead black globe； but a silver light filled the room。 The mirrors did not shine； they seemed to dull in that light。 The birds went still； silent； somehow； Graendal knew they had frozen in terror。
She gaped at the Myrddraal standing there； pale and eyeless and clothed in black deeper than the ball； but larger than any she had ever seen。 It had to be the reason she could not sense the Source； but that was impossible！ Except。。。 Where had that strange sphere of black light e from if not from it？ She had never felt the same fear others did at a Myrddraal's gaze； not to the same degree； yet her hands rose on their own； and she had to snatch them down to keep from covering her face。 Glancing toward Moghedien and Cyndane； she flinched。 They had adopted the same pose as her servants； crouching on their knees； heads to the floor toward the Myrddraal。
She had to work moisture into her mouth。 〃You are a messenger from the Great Lord？〃 Her voice was steady； but weak。 She had never heard of such a thing； the Great Lord sending a message by Myrddraal； and yet。。。 Moghedien was a physical coward； but still one of the Chosen； and she groveled as assiduously as the girl。 And there was the light。 Graendal found herself wishing her dress were not cut so low。 Ridiculous； of course； Myrddraal's appetites for women were well known； but she was one of the。。。 Her eyes drifted to Moghedien once more。
The Myrddraal strode by her sinuously； seeming not to pay her any heed。 Its long black cloak hung undisturbed by its movements。 Aginor had thought the creatures were not quite in the world in the same way everything else was； 〃slightly out of phase with time and reality；〃 he had called it； whatever that meant。
〃I am Shaidar Haran。〃 Stopping by her servants； the Myrddraal bent to grip them by the backs of their necks； one hand to each。 〃When I speak； you may consider that you hear the voice of the Great Lord of the Dark。〃 Those hands tightened to the surprisingly loud sound of cracking bone。 The young man spasmed as he died； kicking out； the young woman merely went limp。 They had been two of her prettiest。 The Myrddraal straightened from the corpses。 〃I am his hand in this world； Graendal。 When you stand before me； you stand before him。〃
Graendal considered carefully； if quickly。 She was afraid； an emotion she was far more used to inspiring in others； but she knew how to control her fear。 While she had never manded armies as some of the others had； she was neither a stranger to hazard nor a coward； yet this was more than a mere threat。 Moghedien and Cyndane still knelt with their heads to the marble floor； Moghedien actually trembling visibly。 Graendal believed this Myrddraal。 Or whatever it truly was。 The Great Lord was taking a more direct hand in events； as she had feared。 And if he learned of her scheming with Sammael。。。 If he chose to take action； that was； betting that he did not know was a foolish wager at this point。
She knelt smoothly before the Myrddraal。 〃What would you have me do？〃 Her voice had regained its strength。 A necessary flexibility was not cowardice； those who did not bend for the Great Lord were bent。 Or snapped in two。 〃Should I call you Great Master； or would you prefer another title？ I would not feel fortable addressing even the Great Lord's hand as I would him。〃
Shockingly； the Myrddraal laughed。 It sounded like ice crumbling。 Myrddraal never laughed。 〃You are braver than most。 And wiser。 Shaidar Haran will do for you。 So long as you remember who I am。 So long as you do not let bravery overe your fear too far。〃
As it issued its mands … a visit to this Moridin was first； it seemed； she would need to be on her guard against Moghedien； and perhaps Cyndane also； taking revenge for her brief use of pulsion； she doubted the girl was any more forgiving than the Spider … she decided to keep to herself the letter she had sent to Rodel Ituralde。 Nothing she was told indicated that her actions would be displeasing to the Great Lord； and she still had to consider her own position。 Moridin； whoever he was； might be Nae'blis today； but there was always tomorrow。
Bracing herself against the rocking of Arilyn's coach； Cadsuane moved one of the leather window curtains far enough to see out。 A light rain fell on Cairhien from a gray sky full of blustering clouds and rough； swirling winds。 Not only the sky was full of wind。 Howling gusts rocked the coach more than did its forward motion。 Tiny droplets stung her hand； cold as ice。 If the air cooled a little more； there would be snow。 She drew her woolen cloak closer； she had been pleased to find it； shoved to the bottom of her saddlebags。 The air would cool。
The city's steep slate roofs and stone…paved streets glistened wetly； and though the rain was not hard； few were willing to brave the strong winds。 A woman guiding an ox…cart with taps of a long goad moved as patiently as her ox； but most people afoot clutched cloaks tightly； hoods pulled down； and stepped quickly as the bearers of a sedan chair rushed by； its stiff con fluttering。 Others beside the woman and her ox saw no reason for haste； though。 In the middle of the street a towering Aielman stood gaping at the sky in disbelief while the drizzle soaked him； so absorbed that a daring cutpurse sliced away his belt pouch and darted off unnoticed by his victim。 A woman whose elaborately curled； high…piled hair marked her as noble walked along slowly； her cloak flapping wildly； and its long hood as well。 This might have been the first time ever that she had actually walked in the streets； but she was laughing as the rain slicked her cheeks。 From the doorway of a perfumer's shop； the shopkeeper stared out disconsolately； she would do little business today。 Most of the hawkers had vanished for the same reason； but a handful still hopefully cried hot tea and meat pies from barrows beneath makeshift awnings。 Though anyone who bought a meat pie in the street these days deserved the bellyache she would get。
A pair of starving dogs ran out from an alley； stiff…legged and hackles up； barking and snarling at the coach。 Cadsuane let the curtain fall。 Dogs seemed to know women who could channel as easily as cats did； but dogs appeared to think the women were cats； if unnaturally large ones。 The pair of women seated across from her were still in conversation。
〃Forgive me；〃 Daigian was saying； 〃but the logic is inescapable。〃 She ducked her head apologetically； making the moonstone dangling on a fine silver chain from her long black hair sway across her forehead。 Her fingers plucked the white slashes in her dark skirts； and she spoke rapidly； as though afraid of being interrupted。 〃If you accept that the lingering heat was the Dark One's work； the change must be by some othe