After several minutes of talking with the innkeeper, Rand, Mat, Helena, and Thom had learned everything they could—for now, at least. The most important, and perhaps most frustrating, piece of news was that their friends hadn't passed through there.
Another bit of information, though unsettling, didn't exactly surprise them: someone was looking for them. According to Bartim, the innkeeper, about a week ago, a strange man had been going around town asking the same questions they had just asked. A man with a ferret-like face who couldn't stay still, not even when standing still. He constantly murmured to himself, his eyes always darting about as if trying to keep up with thoughts faster than his words.
Rand looked questioningly at Thom and Mat, but both shook their heads. The description didn't match anyone they knew.
"Oh, and there was another one," the innkeeper added, lowering his voice. "He's dressed all in black. Keeps his hood pulled low over his head so you can't see his face... but you can feel his stare—like a shard of ice shoved down your spine. He... he spoke to me."
The man visibly shuddered and paused to bite his lip, as if remembering it was as bad as living it again.
"His voice... it sounded like a snake slithering through dry leaves. My stomach turned. And he always asks the same questions. The same as the other lunatic. But no one ever sees him arrive. He's just there. Doesn't matter if it's day or night—he simply appears. Freezes you with his stare. People are starting to look over their shoulders, getting paranoid. Worst part? The gate guards swear he's never passed through—coming or going."
Rand kept his face impassive, but clenched his teeth so hard pain shot through his jaw. Mat winced, and Thom stared into his wine with a dark expression. Helena tensed, her fingers curling in her lap. The word none of them wanted to speak hung in the air like a storm cloud.
Myrddraal.
"I think I'd remember if I'd met someone like that," Thom said after a long silence.
Bartim shook his head vigorously and, mumbling something unintelligible, left the table.
"A Fade," Mat whispered, eyes wide. "I should've known they'd hunt us here."
"And he'll be back," Thom said, leaning across the table and lowering his voice. "I say we slip back to the boat. The hunt will focus on the road to Caemlyn, while we'll be headed to Illian, a thousand miles away from wherever that Fade is waiting."
"No," Rand said, voice hard as steel. "We'll wait for Moiraine and the others in Whitebridge—or head for Caemlyn. Since Whitebridge is compromised, Caemlyn is our only option. That was the plan."
"That's madness, boy. Things have changed. When a Myrddraal looks a man in the eyes, it sees everything," Thom said, voice filled with anger. "Even what he had for breakfast. They'll know it all. And you really think Caemlyn is safe? The Halfmen know Tar Valon's your destination. Illian would be real shelter. You could vanish into the crowds, start over…"
"No, Thom." Rand interrupted firmly. "They'll find us wherever we go. We can't just keep running forever. We have to face this. At least Mat and I do. But you don't have to come with us. You've got your own life. You'd be better off without us… without this madness."
Thom seemed to understand, and his hardened expression softened.
"Head back to the docks. We can take care of ourselves," Mat said.
Thom laughed, but there was no humor in it—just a burst of frustration.
"You think you know enough about Myrddraal to get away on your own, huh? Ready to throw yourself at Tar Valon and surrender to the Amyrlin Seat? Do you even know one Ajah from another? Light burn me, boys!"
Before the argument could go any further, Thom spotted something—a shadow moving with predatory intent. The figure in black with the lowered hood was walking toward the innkeeper. Rand and Mat followed his gaze, and all three held their breath.
"Maybe the boat's not such a bad idea after all…" Mat muttered, but Thom shook his head.
"Too late now." The gleeman spoke quickly and quietly. He pulled out some gold coins and split them into three piles. "Soon the innkeeper will talk, and the Fade will come for us. No time. We need to run. Now!"
Mat stuffed the coins in his pocket. Rand took his share and handed it back.
"There's more gold in the pouch I gave you than you'll ever need in this life. It could buy you a noble's life in any city. But take this too," he said, handing Thom a gleaming black pearl. "If we get separated, and you're cornered, crush it. It'll teleport you somewhere far, far away."
"Probably won't need it," Thom said, taking the pearl hesitantly. "But… if it comes to that… Well, you two will be fine. You're smart. Just stay away from the Aes Sedai. Especially you, Rand. They'll try to gentle you. And turn Helena into one of them... to use her gifts."
"I thought you were staying with us," Helena said, eyes brimming.
"I am, girl. I am. But they're close. And only the Light knows what'll happen."
Thom pushed his chair back and stood with slow, deliberate movement, crouching low to stay out of sight. He motioned for the others to follow.
"Absolute silence."
Once in the alley, Mat turned toward the street, but Thom yanked him back by the arm.
"Not so fast," he whispered. "We don't even have a plan yet. We need to think."
He peeked through a crack in the wall, eyes narrowing.
"Let's go. We've wasted enough time."
Rand nodded, but hesitated for a moment. In the square, the black-cloaked figure walked toward them with slow, deliberate steps. People were starting to disperse, leaving the area empty, as if they could feel the danger in the air.
The Fade's gaze fell on Helena, and she froze.
"Don't look at his face," Thom whispered, his voice trembling.
"We're just going to sit here?" Rand whispered. "We have to run or fight. I can take two of them without using magic. The third… you guys will need to hold him off until I'm done."
"Light help us…" Thom muttered, drawing his dagger.