When she heard what he wanted, her big black eyes widened even more. She had admitted she was wrong, if only to herself. She ignored that—anything else would only be more embarrassing still—but her voice became cold. You, Flinn or whoever you are.
Maps littered the stone floor behind the throne on its dais, rolled or folded or spread out where he had left them. The word was in the streets by now, probably on its way out of the city already. Or to give it to them, if they've returned. Lews Therin snarled and gibbered.
Join the newsletter to receive news, updates, new products and freebies in your inbox.