Suddenly his eye widened. The certainty in Ba'alzamon's voice dried his mouth, but he forced himself to speak. Mat still had the Horn and his dagger, its blade darker than the ruby in its hilt. That fact almost cracked the emptiness.
Light, what's happening to all of us? His hands tightened into fists, large and square. Instead, she stretched and shrugged as if working cold shoulders before settling back as she had been. They have taken the Horn of Valere into the Ways, Aes Sedai. Nobody turns your bed down for you in the men's quarters.
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