Moiraine took Amalisa's hands and drew her to her feet. She started off with Verin while Juin was still bowing himself away, bending her head to talk quietly. Rand eyed the room, with all the chests and trunks. Talk to me as we ride, Lord Ingtar.
Now a new bride had captured his eyes, though he was blind to it. A long, white-cloaked line rippled slowly toward them across the hills. It was slow, but Moiraine had said it would come more quickly with practice. She pointed to two parallel wavy lines crossed by an odd squiggle, carved low on the column.
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