Amys and Sorilea exchanged glances and adjusted their shawls in near unison; their scents were identical, too, and matched their faces in pure determination. The Black sister was wide-eyed with terror, sagging so she surely would have fallen except for leine's grip. Fifty years. He'll live, Mat said dryly.
Her sign is three golden keys. Is this the right moment, Rand al'Thor? When Rand motioned him to speak, he went on. Just in case the Forsaken and gholam aren't enough for you. It was no longer bleeding, but it should have been gone.
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