wicker cages of pigeons from the dovecotes in Salidar, a good five hundred miles west and south as the goose flew. Galina wanted to laugh. It was like staring into muddy water; sometimes you had the impression that something had moved deep in those gray-brown swirls, but you could never tell what. If you live long enough.
Maybe once he got these women back, Egwene would be ready to give up that nonsense about being Amyrlin and let him take her to Rand along with Elayne and Nynaeve and Aviendha. He patted Min's hand on his arm—she had not let go an instant—and Harine nodded. There was surprisingly little mess, considering that inns were supposed to be riotous, even licentious, during festivals. A few believed Rand had called them.
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