The grand hall's darkness pressed against Spencer's back as they walked away.
Mat was talking — nervous chatter about exploring and adventure and how Spencer needed to relax — but Spencer barely heard him. His attention was fixed on the thread-tendril still reaching toward him from Mordeth's presence, tasting the Codex's signature, cataloging whatever information it could extract.
It's not following. That's something. But it knows I'm here now.
It knows I'm different.
"You're doing that thing again," Mat said.
"What thing?"
"The thing where you look like you're listening but you're really somewhere else entirely." Mat's coin appeared, spinning between his fingers. "I do it sometimes. When the cards are bad and I need to pretend they're good."
Spencer forced himself to focus. "Sorry. This place is getting to me."
"Getting to all of us." Mat's grin was strained around the edges. "Did you see the look on Rand's face when Moiraine talked about people turning so evil they became something else? Thought he was going to be sick."
Because Rand knows, somewhere deep down, that he's going to face the same choice. The Dragon Reborn, trying not to become a monster while the whole world pushes him toward madness.
"We should get back to camp," Spencer said. "Moiraine wasn't joking about the danger."
"Moiraine never jokes about anything."
"Exactly."
---
The camp was quiet when they returned.
Thom had stopped playing; his harp sat beside him, silent. Rand and Perrin slept fitfully, their threads flickering with dreams that probably weren't pleasant. Egwene was awake, sitting by the fire with her arms wrapped around her knees.
"Where were you?" she asked quietly.
"Needed to walk," Mat said, dropping onto his bedroll. "Couldn't sleep."
"Moiraine said to stay within the wards."
"I stayed close. Aldan was with me." Mat's coin flashed once, then disappeared into his pocket. "We're fine. Nothing happened."
Something happened. Something noticed us — noticed me. But Mat doesn't need to know that.
Spencer settled against the wall where he'd been sitting before, keeping his back to solid stone and his eyes on the streets beyond the wards. Thread Sight showed the city's corruption pulsing with a faint, rhythmic intensity, like a heartbeat too slow for human perception.
Mashadar. It's stirring. The Trollocs must be getting closer.
Egwene was watching him. Her thread was bright with curiosity and something else — suspicion, maybe, or just the wariness of someone who'd noticed more than she was supposed to.
"You followed Mat," she said. Not a question.
"Someone had to."
"You knew he would wander."
Because I've read the books. Because I know Mat Cauthon better than he knows himself.
"He's predictable," Spencer said instead. "Restless. Curious. The kind of person who can't leave a closed door alone."
"And you're the kind of person who watches everyone else."
Spencer met her eyes. Egwene al'Vere was going to be the Amyrlin Seat someday — the most powerful woman in the world, leading the White Tower through the Last Battle. Right now she was a village girl with sharp eyes and sharper instincts.
"Someone has to," he said.
Egwene's thread rippled with something Spencer couldn't quite read. Then she turned back to the fire and said nothing more.
---
The drums started before dawn.
Spencer heard them first — a distant thunder, rhythmic and purposeful. Then the ground began to vibrate, and the others woke to the sound of an army approaching.
"Up." Lan's voice cut through the confusion. "Everyone up. We move now."
"What is it?" Rand scrambled for his sword, his golden thread blazing with sudden fear.
"Trollocs. Hundreds of them." Lan was already moving toward the city's interior, away from the walls. "They've found us."
"But you said they wouldn't enter the city—"
"They're more afraid of what's chasing them than they are of Aridhol." Moiraine's voice was calm, but her thread thrummed with urgency. "The Myrddraal is driving them forward. We need to go deeper."
Spencer grabbed his pack and followed. The city's streets were dark, lit only by the faint green-gold glow of corruption seeping from the stones. Behind them, the drumbeats grew louder.
And ahead, something worse was waking up.
---
Mashadar rose like silver fog.
It emerged from cracks in the ancient stone, from doorways and windows and the spaces between buildings — luminous tendrils that moved with slow, purposeful intent. Thread Sight showed it as anti-Pattern energy, pure destruction with no awareness behind it. Not evil in the way the Shadow was evil. Just... hunger.
"Don't let it touch you," Moiraine warned. "Don't let it touch anything you're holding. One brush and you're dead."
The group ran.
Through streets that twisted back on themselves, past buildings that leaned at impossible angles, the silver tendrils reaching for them with patient, inexorable hunger. The Trollocs behind them, Mashadar ahead of them, and somewhere in the darkness, Mordeth's presence watching with ancient interest.
Spencer kept Thread Sight active, tracking the Mashadar's movements, calling out directions when the path ahead was blocked. "Left here — the tendril's moving right. Through that alley — it's clear for another ten seconds."
No one questioned how he knew. There wasn't time.
---
The group split at a crossroads.
It happened in seconds — a surge of Mashadar cutting off the main street, forcing them into separate paths. Moiraine and Lan went right, toward higher ground. Perrin and Egwene went left, toward the walls. Spencer, Rand, Mat, and Thom went straight, toward the river he knew was ahead.
"STAY TOGETHER!" Moiraine's voice echoed behind them. "MEET AT TAR VALON!"
And then she was gone, her silver-blue thread disappearing around a corner, and Spencer was running through dead streets with three people who didn't know how much he needed them to survive.
The river. Bayle Domon's boat. That's how we escape.
His legs burned. His lungs screamed. But the river was ahead, and survival was all that mattered now.
To supporting Me in Pateron .
with exclusive access to more chapters (based on tiers more chapters for each tiers) on my Patreon, you get more chapters if you ask for more (in few days), plus new fanfic every week! Your support starting at just $6/month helps me keep crafting the stories you love across epic universes.
By joining, you're not just getting more chapters—you're helping me bring new worlds, twists, and adventures to life. Every pledge makes a huge difference!
👉 Join now at patreon.com/TheFinex5 and start reading today!