Mat finally managed to draw the ruby-hilted dagger, holding it in a trembling hand. His lips were curled back, teeth bared in a grimace of pure fear. Sweat dripped down his forehead, mixing with the dust of the nearly empty square. The terror on his face mirrored what everyone else felt — even Rand, who now carried Helena on his back as if she were the last breath of hope in the chaos.
Thom grunted."I never should have gotten involved with you boys. Never." With a heavy sigh, he pulled the gleeman's cloak from his shoulders and stuffed it into Rand's arms. "Take this. When I say run, you run. Don't stop until you reach Caemlyn. The Queen's Blessing. An inn. Remember that, if… just remember it."
Rand instantly understood what Thom meant to do."Thom…" he said, swallowing hard. "Don't forget… when you can't hold on any longer, crush the pearl."
The Myrddraal was no more than twenty paces away. Its shadowy presence seemed to drain the very light from the air. A horror in the shape of a man — eyeless, with skin paler than moonlight and a mouth twisted in a soulless smile.
"Just remember!" Thom barked. "The Queen's Blessing. Now. RUN!"
He shoved them both, a hand on each shoulder, and Rand bolted, Helena clinging tightly to his back. Mat stumbled behind, nearly tripping over his own feet, but not stopping.
"RUN!" Thom roared again. But he didn't follow.
Rand glanced back and saw Thom charging—straight at the Myrddraal.
The old gleeman's hands flicked through the air, and knives appeared out of nowhere, as if the night itself bent to his will. It was like watching a performance — only this stage was deadly. Thom hurled himself at the Fade before half the black blade was even drawn. They crashed together, a blur of cloaks, steel, and screams.
The square, already nearly deserted, emptied completely. The few lingering souls fled in panic. A flash of blue light split the air — raw magic — and Thom screamed, a sound of pain and defiance twisted into one.
Even within the scream, he managed to shout one word:
"RUN!"
Rand obeyed, clutching Thom's bundle to his chest, the case of instruments inside pressing hard against his ribs. He knew he couldn't fight here. If he used magic, it would draw even more attention—maybe even a horde of Trollocs. The city would be doomed.
Mat ran beside him, limping, but unyielding.
After many long, frantic minutes, they finally left the city behind. The road stretched empty between leafless trees, and the silence of the woods clashed starkly with the chaos they had just fled.
Rand collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. His throat burned with each breath, and the world spun around him.
"Rand!" Helena cried, slipping from his back. She knelt beside him, rummaging quickly through her satchel. "Here. Anti-fatigue potion. It'll keep you moving for a few more hours. We can push farther."
Rand drank without hesitation. Warmth spread through his limbs, chasing off the edge of exhaustion.
"We keep going," said Mat, though he looked ready to collapse. His face was dirty, streaked with sweat, his body trembling with fatigue.
"Thom…" Helena whispered, her voice soft.
Rand clutched the bundle tighter, as if holding it could protect Thom somehow.
"He'll be fine," he said, more to himself than the others.
"He's dead, Rand! You saw it! You heard it! Light, that scream…"
"You thought Moiraine and Egwene were dead too. If they are, then why are the Myrddraal still hunting them? Answer that!"
"Stop being a complete fool, Rand!" Helena snapped. "The Light was with Thom. And he had the pearl I gave him. That may have been enough."
Mat dropped to his knees, torn between hope and despair.
Rand opened the case he carried, ignoring the curious stares from the others. Helena approached, trying to understand what he was doing.
"Now's not the time to rest, Rand," said Mat, impatient. "We'll pitch the tent later."
"Can you shut up and watch?" Rand snapped.
He lifted the lid of the case—and something impossible happened. The opening expanded, as though the fabric was made of living magic. A swirl of light burst forth, and from within emerged giant winged horses, white as snow, with sapphire eyes and radiant wings. Twelve in total. Then came a carriage the size of a house, luxurious, adorned with golden runes and ancient sigils. Its wheels floated inches above the ground.
Mat's eyes went wide. His mouth dropped open.
"Blood and ashes, Rand! Why didn't you bring this out sooner? We could've skipped all of it! We'd be in Tar Valon right now!"
Rand ignored him and stepped into the carriage with Helena, who looked like a child discovering a fairytale. Mat hesitated, then followed, grumbling.
The interior was breathtaking — carved wooden furniture, velvet-padded armchairs, plush rugs, and a gentle floral scent in the air. The temperature was perfect, like an eternal spring.
Rand sat in one of the seats and gave a quiet command.
"Follow the road to the next major city." With a subtle gesture, he activated an invisibility spell, cloaking the carriage from ordinary sight — and even from most dark trackers.
As the winged horses took to the skies above the road — swift and silent — Rand closed his eyes.
Tears rolled down his cheeks.Thom might still be alive… but the guilt burned like fire in his chest.
"We're going to find everyone," Rand said firmly, staring out the window of the enchanted carriage. "This time, we'll make it to Caemlyn. We'll be ready. I didn't bring this out before because I had a vision. Each of us had to walk our own path, face our own trials. If I had done this too soon… none of us would've grown."
Mat scoffed, arms crossed, dust still clinging to his face."And when was the right time, Rand?" he snapped. "When we got split up? When we were hunted like animals? Starving, freezing, sleeping on rocks, chased by things that wanted to kill us? That's growth?"
Rand met his gaze, eyes steady and full of conviction.
"Yes, Mat. That's what growing up feels like. It hurts. We were boys from a tiny village at the end of the world. We lived sheltered under the hills, blind to everything beyond. We knew nothing about betrayal, desperation, or courage. If we had come here like pampered lords in that carriage, we'd still be fools."
"Pampered?!" Mat stood, face red with anger. "Thom might be dead, Rand! You saw what he did for us!"
"I saw. And what he did is what we'll all have to do someday. Choose. Fight. Sacrifice. Thom knew. He taught us through stories, through songs… but in the end, he taught us with his life."
Helena sat quietly on a velvet armchair, idly fiddling with her necklace. Her gaze was distant, yet sharp. When she noticed Rand looking, she nodded.
"I saw the vision too," she said softly. "The world is breaking, Rand. You're at the heart of the storm. Each of us carries something that must awaken — something that only pain and fire can forge. Thom knew. Moiraine knew. Even Egwene has begun to understand."
Mat sat back down, calmer now, though his eyes still burned with frustration.
"And what if they don't come back?"
"They will," Rand said, his voice unshakable. "Because now everyone knows what's at stake. We're done running. From now on, we stand."
A heavy silence filled the carriage. Outside, the winged horses soared beneath a gray sky, pulling the hidden carriage swiftly onward. Helena laid a hand gently on Rand's shoulder and whispered:
"We'll gather the pieces. And when we're together again…"