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back her fist again。 With a snarl； he seized her by the scruff of her neck and。。。
Well； it was her own fault。 It was。 He had asked her not to hit him； told her。 Her own fault。 He was surprised she had not tried to pull one of her knives； though； she seemed to carry as many as Mat。
She had been furious； of course。 Furious with Loial for trying to intervene； she could take care of herself； thank you very much。 Furious with Bain and Chiad for not intervening； she had been taken aback when they said they did not think she would want them to interfere in a fight she had picked。 When you choose the fight； Bain had said； you must take the consequences； win or lose。 But she did not seem even the tiniest bit angry with him any longer。 That made him nervous。 She had only stared at him； her dark eyes glistening with unshed tears； which made him feel guilty； which in turn made him angry。 Why should he be guilty？ Was he supposed to stand there and let her hit him to her heart's content？ She had mounted Swallow and sat there； very stiff…backed； refusing to sit gingerly；
staring at him with an unreadable expression。 It made him very nervous。 He almost wished she had pulled a knife。 Almost。
〃They are moving again；〃 Gaul said。
Perrin jerked back to the present。 The other light was moving。 Now it paused。 One of them had noticed his light was not following yet。 Probably Loial。 Faile might not mind if he got lost； and the two Aiel women had twice tried to talk him into walking off a little way with them。 He had not needed the slight shake of Gaul's head to refuse。 He heeled Stepper forward； leading the packhorse。
The Guiding here was more pocked than most he had seen； but he rode on past it with only a glance。 The light of the other lanterns was already starting down one of the gently sloping ramps； and he followed with a sigh。 He hated the ramps。 Sided only by darkness； it began to curve； down and around； with nothing discernible beyond the squashed light of the lantern swaying above his head。 Something told him that a fall over the edge would never end。 Stepper and the packhorse kept to the middle without any urging； and even Gaul avoided the brink。 Worse； when the ramp ended on another Island； there was no way to escape the conclusion that it lay directly beneath the one they had just left。 He was glad to see Gaul glancing upward； glad he was not alone in wondering what held the Islands up and whether it was still sound。
Once more Loial and Faile's lanterns had stopped by the Guiding； so he reined up again； just off the ramp。 This time they did not move on； though。 After a few moments； Faile's voice called； 〃Perrin。〃
He exchanged looks with Gaul； and the Aiel shrugged。 She had not spoken to Perrin since he。。。
〃Perrin； e here。〃 Not peremptory； exactly； but not asking； either。
Bain and Chiad were squatting easily beside the Guiding； and Loial and Faile sat their horses close by； pole…lanterns in hand。 The Ogier had their packhorses' lead line； his ear tufts twitched as he looked from Faile to Perrin and back again。 She； on the other hand； seemed pletely absorbed in adjusting her riding gloves； of soft green leather with golden falcons embroidered on their backs。 She had changed her dress； too。 The new one was cut in the same fashion； with a high neck and narrow divided skirts； but it was a dark green brocaded silk； and somehow it seemed to emphasize her bosom。 Perrin had never seen the dress before。
〃What do you want？〃 he asked warily。
She looked up as if surprised to see him； tilted her head thoughtfully； then smiled as though it had just occurred to her。 〃Oh； yes。 I wanted to see if you could be taught to e when I call。〃 Her smiled deepened； it had to be because she had heard his teeth grinding。 He scrubbed at his nose； there was a faint rank smell here。
Gaul chuckled softly。 〃As well try to understand the sun； Perrin。 It simply is； and it is not to be understood。 You cannot live without it； but it exacts a price。 So with women。〃
Bain leaned over to whisper in Chiad's ear； and they both laughed。 From the way they looked at Gaul and him； Perrin did not think he would like hearing what the women found so funny。
〃It is not that at all；〃 Loial rumbled； ears shifting testily。 He gave Faile an accusing look； which did not abash her at all； she smiled at him vaguely and went back to her gloves； snugging each finger all over again。 〃I am sorry； Perrin。 She insisted on being the one to call you。 This is why。 We are there。〃 He pointed to the base of the Guiding； where a wide pit…broken white line ran off； not to bridge or ramp； but into the darkness。 〃The Waygate at Manetheren； Perrin。〃
Perrin nodded； saying nothing。 He was not about to suggest they follow the line； not and have Faile call him down for trying to take over。 He rubbed his nose again absently； that almost imperceptible scent of rankness was irritating。 He was not going to make even the most sensible suggestion。 If she wanted to lead； let her。 But she sat her saddle； fooling with her gloves； obviously waiting for him to speak so she could make some witty remark。 She liked wittiness； he preferred saying what he meant。 Irritably； he turned Stepper； meaning to go on without her or Loial。 The line led to the Waygate； and he could pick out the Avendesora leaf that opened it himself。
Suddenly his ear caught a muffled click of hooves from the darkness； and the fetid smell slammed home in his mind。 〃Trollocs！〃 he shouted。
Gaul pivoted smoothly to slide a spear into the black…mailed chest of a wolf…snouted Trolloc dashing into the light with scythe…like sword upraised； in the same effortless motion the Aiel pulled his spearpoint free and sidestepped to let the huge shape fall。 More came behind it； though； all goatsnouts and boar's tusks； cruel beaks and twisted horns； with curved swords and spiked axes and hooked spears。 The horses danced and screamed。
Holding his pole…lantern high … the thought of facing these things in the dark gave him cold sweat … Perrin clawed for a weapon； swung at a face distorted by a sharp toothed snout。 He was surprised to realize he had pulled the hammer free of its lashings on his saddlebags； but if it did not have the axe's sharp edge； ten pounds of steel wielded by a blacksmith's arm still sent the Trolloc staggering back shrieking and clutching a ruined face。
Loial dashed his pole…lantern against a goat…horned head； and the lantern broke； bathed in burning oil； the Trolloc ran howling into the dark。 The Ogier flailed about him with the stout pole； a switch in his huge hands； but one that landed with sharp cracks of splintering bone。 One of Faile's knives blossomed in an all…too…human eye above a tusked snout。 The Aiel danced the spears； having somehow found time to veil themselves。 Perrin struck； and struck； and struck。 A whirlwind of death that lasted。。。 。 A minute？ Five？ It seemed an hour。 But suddenly the Trollocs were down； those not already dead kicking in their death throes。
Perrin sucked air into his lungs； his right arm felt as if the weight of the hammer might pull it off。 There was a burning sensation on his face； a wetness trickling down his side； another on his leg； where Trolloc steel had gotten through。 Each of the Aiel had at least one damp patch darkening their brown and gray clothes； and Loial wore a bloody gash down his thigh。 Perrin's eyes went right past them； seeking Faile。 If she was hurt。。。 She sat atop her black mare； a knife in her hand ready to throw。 She had actually managed to pull off her gloves and tuck them neatly behind her belt。 He could not see a wound on her。 In all the blood smell … human； Ogier； Trolloc … he could not have picked out hers if she were bleeding； but he knew her scent； and she did not have the pained smell of injury。 Bright lights hurt Trolloc eyes； they did not adapt quickly。 Very likely the only reason they were still alive and the Trollocs dead was that abrupt entry from darkness into light。
That was all the time they had； a moment's respite； long enough to glance around； take breath。 With a roar like a hundred pounds of bone falling into a huge meat grinder； a Fade leaped into the light； eyeless stare a stare of death； black sword flickering like lightning。 The horses screamed； trying to bolt。
Gaul barely managed to turn that blade with his buckler； losing a slice from the side of it as if the layers of cured bullhide were only paper。 He stabbed； eluded a thrust … barely … and stabbed again。 Arrows sprouted in the Myrddraal's chest。 Bain and Chiad had thrust their spears through the harness holding the cased bows on their backs and were using those curved horn bows。 More arrows； pincushioning the Halfman's chest。 Gaul's spear； darting； stabbing。 One of Faile's knives suddenly stood out in that smooth maggot white face。 The Fade would not fall； would not stop trying to kill。 Only the wildest dodging kept its sword from finding flesh。
Perrin bared his teeth in an unconscious snarl。 He hated Trollocs as an enemy of his blood； but the Neverborn。。。 ？ It was worth dying to kill a Neverborn。 To put my teeth in its throat。。。 ！ Careless of whether he b