Hand trembling, he touched the gashes on his chest and raised bloody fingers before his gray eyes in disbelief. The smell of a stew made from turnips, onions, and dried meat settled over the camp. The Seanchan woman surveyed the ship arrogantly, then picked Domon out as captain-it had to be him or Yarin, by their clothes; the Nynaeve's face stayed frozen as she shifted the way she sat, just a fraction.
Even so, she and Bela both stumbled in brush flattened by the opening Waygate as they suddenly seemed to be moving even more slowly. But when he touched the stone under him, it felt solid enough. I am sure, Rand said. What if Logain was the one? He could channel, before the Reds brought him to the White Tower, and we gentled him.
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