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silk coat； damp between the shoulders； hung open in a fruitless bid for air； and his shirt was unlaced half down his chest。 Night in the Aiel Waste would bring freezing cold； but during daylight even a breeze was never cool。
With his hands above his head on the smooth stone window frame； his coatsleeves fell down to reveal the front part of the figure wrapped around each forearm： a golden…maned； serpentine creature with eyes like the sun； scaled in scarlet and gold； each foot tipped with five golden claws。 Part of his skin； they were not tattoos； they glittered like precious metals and polished gems； seemed almost alive in the late…afternoon sunlight。
Those marked him； to the people on this side of the mountain range variously called the Dragonwall or the Spine of the World； as He Who es With the Dawn。 And like the herons branded into his palms； they marked him for those beyond the Dragonwall； too； according to the Prophecies； as the Dragon Reborn。 In both cases prophesied to unite； save … and destroy。
They were names he would have avoided if he could； but that time was long past if it had ever existed； and he no longer thought of it。 Or if he did； on rare occasion； it was with the faint regret of a man recalling a foolish dream of his boyhood。 As if he were not close enough to boyhood to remember every minute。 Instead； he tried to think only of what he had to do。 Fate and duty held him on the path like a rider's reins； but he had often been called stubborn。 The end of the road must be reached； but if it could be attained by a different way； maybe it need not be the end。 Small chance。 No chance； almost certainly。 The Prophecies demanded his blood。
Rhuidean stretched below him； seared by a sun still pitiless as it sank toward craggy mountains； bleak； with barely a sign of vegetation。 This rugged； broken land； where men had killed or died over a pool of water they could step across； was the last place on earth anyone would think to find a great city。 Its long…ago builders had never finished their work。 Impossibly tall buildings dotted the city； stepped and slab…sided palaces that sometimes ended after eight or even ten stories not with a roof but with the ragged masonry of another half…built floor。 The towers soared higher yet； but stopped in jagged abruptness as often as not。 Now a good quarter of the great structures； with their massive columns and immense windows of colored glass； lay strewn as rubble across wide avenues with broad strips of bare dirt down their centers； dirt that had never held the trees they were planned for。 The marvelous fountains stood dry as they had for hundreds upon hundreds of years。 All that futile labor； the builders finally dying with their work undone； yet at times Rand thought that maybe the city had only been begun so he could find it。
Too proud； he thought。 A man would have to be half…mad at least to be so proud。 He could not help chuckling dryly。 There had been Aes Sedai with the men and women who had e here so long ago； and they had known The Karaethon Cycle； the Prophecies of the Dragon。 Or perhaps they had written the Prophecies。 Too proud by tenfold。
Directly below him lay a vast plaza； half…covered in stretching shadow； littered with a jumble of statues and crystal chairs； oddities and peculiar shapes of metal or glass or stone； things he could put no name to； scattered about in tangled heaps as if deposited by a storm。 Even the shadows were cool only by parison。 Rough…clothed men … not Aiel … sweated to load wagons with items chosen by a short； slender woman in pristine blue silk； straight…backed and gliding from place to place as though the heat did not press down on her as hard as on the others。 Still； she wore a damp white cloth tied around her temples； she just did not let herself show the effects of the sun。 Rand would have wagered she did not even perspire。
The workmen's leader was a dark； bulky man named Hadnan Kadere； a supposed merchant dressed all in cream…colored silk that was sweat…sodden today。 He mopped his face continually with a large handkerchief； shouting curses at the men … his wagon drivers and guards … but he leaped as quickly as they to haul at whatever the slim woman pointed out； big or small。 Aes Sedai had no need of size to impose their will； but Rand thought Moiraine would have done as well if she had never been near the White Tower。
Two of the men were trying to move what appeared to be an oddly twisted redstone doorframe； the corners did not meet properly； and the eye did not want to follow the straight pieces。 It stayed upright； turning freely but refusing to tip over however they manhandled it。 Then one slipped and fell； through the doorway up to his waist。 Rand tensed。 For a moment； the fellow seemed not to exist above the waist； his legs kicked wildly in panic。 Until Lan； a tall man in drab shades of green； strode over and hauled him out again by his belt。 Lan was Moiraine's Warder； bonded to her in some way Rand did not understand； and a hard man who moved like the Aiel； like a hunting wolf； the sword at his hip did not seem part of him； it was part of him。 He dropped the workman on the paving stones on the seat of his breeches and left him there； the fellow's terrified cries rose thinly to Rand； and his panion looked ready to run。 Several of Kadere's men who had been close enough to see were looking at one another and at the mountains around the city； plainly assessing their chances。
Moiraine appeared among them so quickly it seemed by the Power； moving smoothly from man to man。 Her manner made Rand almost hear the cool； imperious instructions ing from her lips； so full of certainty that they would be obeyed； that not obeying would seem foolish。 In short order she overrode resistance； stamped firmly on objections； chivvied them every one back to work。 The pair with the doorframe were soon dragging and shoving as hard as ever； if with frequent looks at Moiraine when they thought she would not see。 In her own way； she was even harder than Lan。
As far as Rand knew； all of those things down there were angreal or sa'angreal or ter'angreal； made before the Breaking of the World to magnify the One Power or use it in various ways。 Made with the Power certainly； though not even Aes Sedai knew how to construct such things now。 He more than suspected the use of the twisted doorframe … a doorway to another world … but for the rest； he had no idea。 No one did。 That was why Moiraine worked so hard； to have as many as she could carted to the Tower for study。 It was possible that even the Tower did not contain as many objects of the Power as lay about this square； though supposedly the Tower held the largest collection in the world。 Even there； the Tower only knew the uses of some。
What was in the wagons or tossed about on the pavement did not interest Rand； he had already taken what he needed from down there。 Had already taken more than he wanted； in some ways。
In the center of the plaza； near the burned remains of a great tree a hundred feet high； stood a small forest of tall glass columns； each nearly as tall as the tree and so slender it seemed the first storm…wind must bri