Marillin Gemalphin's corruption was shallow and nervous.
Spencer observed her across the library's main reading room, maintaining the appearance of a guest reviewing historical Talent accounts. The Brown Ajah sister sat at a research table, surrounded by books on veterinary care — her known specialty, innocent enough on the surface.
But her thread told a different story. The black corruption pulsed with anxiety, surfacing in moments when she glanced toward the door or checked the corridor outside. She was expecting someone. Or avoiding someone. Or both.
[THREAT IDENTIFIED: Shadow corruption confirmed. Entity: Marillin Gemalphin, Brown Ajah. Status: Black Ajah (moderate concealment). Note: Corruption pattern shows recent stress — subject is aware of increased Tower scrutiny.]
Nine of thirteen.
Spencer logged the face and name in his mental archive, then returned his attention to his book. The identification had taken three hours of patient observation — Verin had positioned him in the library by suggesting he review certain texts that Marillin was also studying. A coincidence that wasn't a coincidence.
Four more. Four names before Liandrin runs.
The inventory audit Spencer had orchestrated was buying time. A Tower functionary had conducted a surprise inspection of the ter'angreal storage, citing "procedural irregularities in the access logs." Liandrin had been visibly furious but couldn't object without drawing attention. The audit would last another three days before the functionary ran out of items to count.
Three days. Four names. And Liandrin's thread is pulling harder toward the door every hour.
---
Falion Bhoda appeared at dinner that evening.
Spencer had positioned himself at a table with sight lines to the main entrance, eating a meal he barely tasted while Thread Sight processed every silver thread that entered the hall. Most were clean — tired Aes Sedai returning from lessons, hungry Accepted grabbing food between duties, servants moving with practiced efficiency.
Then Falion walked in, and Spencer's meal stuck in his throat.
The White Ajah sister's corruption was clinical, cold, hidden behind a facade of logical detachment. Where Liandrin's infection surfaced in moments of cruelty and Marillin's showed in nervous anxiety, Falion's black threads were organized, methodical, integrated seamlessly into her White Ajah temperament.
She thinks her betrayal is reasonable. Logical. The correct choice given available data.
That makes her more dangerous than the zealots.
[THREAT IDENTIFIED: Shadow corruption confirmed. Entity: Falion Bhoda, White Ajah. Status: Black Ajah (sophisticated concealment). Note: Corruption pattern suggests intellectual commitment rather than emotional conversion. Subject views Shadow service as rational choice.]
Ten of thirteen.
Spencer finished his meal without tasting another bite. The identification count was rising, but so was his awareness of what these women represented. Each name on his list was a trained channeler who'd looked at the Light and chosen darkness. Each one had access to Tower resources, political connections, and the ability to kill with a thought.
And I'm hunting them with Thread Sight and a journal full of ciphered notes.
David versus sixty Goliaths, armed with a slingshot made of pattern-perception.
---
Liandrin's thread changed on Day 24.
Spencer noticed it during his evening Thread Trace — a routine check on the Red sister's location and corruption activity. Her thread had been pulling toward the ter'angreal storage for days, but tonight it pulled in a new direction.
The Amyrlin's quarters.
She's going to Siuan. Why?
Spencer followed the thread-impression carefully, maintaining enough distance that his Codex signature wouldn't register to her paranoid senses. Liandrin moved through Tower corridors with purpose, her corruption-threads extended in patterns Spencer recognized as communication tendrils — she was signaling her network, coordinating something.
The Red sister entered the Amyrlin's wing. Spencer couldn't follow without drawing attention, but he could wait.
Thirty minutes later, Liandrin emerged.
Her thread was different. Satisfied. The corruption pulsed with the particular intensity of someone who'd just accomplished something significant. Whatever she'd discussed with Siuan — or claimed to discuss — had moved her plan forward.
She's not just preparing to flee. She's building cover for her departure.
And she's using the Amyrlin's authority to do it.
Spencer retreated to his quarters and sent a coded message to Verin through their established channel.
The response came within the hour: L. requested Tower business leave. Traveling with 'personal matters.' Approved by Amyrlin (unaware of true nature). Departure: 3 days.
Three days. The audit would end. Liandrin would leave with whatever ter'angreal she'd managed to secure. And Spencer still needed three more names.
Tenaile Kemali. Asne Zeramene. Eldrith Jhondar.
Three sisters I haven't been able to scan. Three names I need before Liandrin runs.
---
The Twist was subtle this time.
Spencer had learned from the corridor incident. Direct manipulation near a Black Ajah sister created detectable ripples. But indirect manipulation — adjusting threads far enough from the target that the ripple dissipated before reaching her — could work without triggering her paranoia.
He found a servant who managed cleaning schedules for the Tower's guest quarters. A small Twist to the woman's thread — not a change to her behavior, just a nudge to her timing that would result in her team cleaning certain rooms at certain times.
The result: Tenaile Kemali, who lived in those quarters, would be inconvenienced into visiting the common areas more frequently.
Cost: 11 Stamina. Detection risk: minimal.
Two days later, Spencer encountered Tenaile in the Tower's lower gardens — "accidentally" present while she took her rerouted morning walk.
Her thread was wrong. Corruption deep, old, patterned with the marks of someone who'd served the Shadow since before the Trolloc Wars reshaped the world's borders.
[THREAT IDENTIFIED: Shadow corruption confirmed. Entity: Tenaile Kemali, White Ajah. Status: Black Ajah (ancient infection). Note: Corruption pattern suggests pre-Trolloc Wars recruitment timeline. Subject is among the oldest Black Ajah operatives.]
Eleven of thirteen.
---
Spencer ate dinner alone that night, pushing food around his plate.
The math was brutal. Liandrin leaves in two days. Two Black Ajah sisters remain unidentified — Asne Zeramene and Eldrith Jhondar, both of whom have been traveling outside the Tower or confined to areas Spencer can't access. Even if he identifies them tomorrow, exposure timing means some will escape.
The books said thirteen flee. That's the number. That's what happens.
But the books also said Rand would use the Portal Stone at a specific time in a specific way, and I already know that's wrong.
What else is wrong? What else has changed because of me?
The prophecy Verin mentioned — "three caught in threads they cannot see" — suggested some of Liandrin's cell would be captured. Three of thirteen wasn't victory, but it wasn't nothing.
Unless the prophecy changed too. Unless my butterflies have rewritten even the Foretellings.
Spencer set down his fork. The food tasted like ash.
I need those last two names. I need to know who runs and who stays. I need—
A knock at his door interrupted the spiral.
Spencer opened it to find Nicola standing in the corridor, pale and trembling, holding a scrap of paper like it might bite her.
"I spoke a prophecy in my sleep," she said. "Areina wrote it down. It mentions you."
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