The Pattern has brought us to Falme at last. She could not imagine Rand hurting anyone. The cobblestone street climbed the slope, leaving the smell of the harbor behind. It is not enough, she told Verin, to hear what can happen.
In just as exact a pattern, towers rose within the walls, soaring as much as twenty times the height of the wall, yet even from the hills Rand could see that each one ended in a jagged top. To find the dagger. The bottom of it came little more than halfway down her thighs. The Amyrlin continued her study of the garden.
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