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Authors: Robert Jordan

The Fires of Heaven

BOOK: The Fires of Heaven
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Praise for Robert Jordan’s



“Jordan’s multivolume epic [is] a feast for fantasy aficionados.”

Library Journal


“New readers are advised to start with the first book,
The Eye of the World.
It may take you a year of steady reading, but by next year you’ll be chomping at the bit to jump on the newest book.”

—Robert Knox, MPG Newspapers


“On very rare occasions, very talented storytellers create worlds that are beyond fantasy; worlds that become realities. Robert Jordan has.”

—Morgan Llywelyn, author of
Lion of Ireland


“One of
books to read this year.”

Science Fiction Review


“The fourth volume of the most ambitious American fantasy saga continues to suggest that The Wheel of Time will also be the finest.”



“Rich and enthralling.”







by Robert Jordan


The Eye of the World
The Great Hunt
The Dragon Reborn
The Shadow Rising
The Fires of Heaven
Lord of Chaos
A Crown of Swords
The Path of Daggers
Winter’s Heart
Crossroads of Twilight
Knife of Dreams


by Robert Jordan
and Brandon Sanderson


The Gathering Storm




The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you without Digital Rights Management software (DRM) applied so that you can enjoy reading it on your personal devices. This e-book is for your personal use only. You may not print or post this e-book, or make this e-book publicly available in any way. You may not copy, reproduce or upload this e-book, other than to read it on one of your personal devices.

Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at:








This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.


Copyright © 1993 by The Bandersnatch Group, Inc.

The phrases “The Wheel of Time
” and “The Dragon Reborn™,” and the snake-wheel symbol, are trademarks of Robert Jordan.

All rights reserved.

Frontispiece by Dan Dos Santos
Maps by Ellisa Mitchell
Interior illustrations by Matthew C. Nielsen and Ellisa Mitchell

A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010

is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.

ISBN 978-1-4299-6037-3

First Edition: November 1993
First E-book Edition: February 2010

Manufactured in the United States of America



For Harriet

The light of her eyes is my Light.





  PROLOGUE: The First Sparks Fall

1      Fanning the Sparks

2      Rhuidean

3      Pale Shadows

4      Twilight

5      Among the Wise Ones

6      Gateways

7      A Departure

8      Over the Border

9      A Signal

10      Figs and Mice

11      The Nine Horse Hitch

12      An Old Pipe

13      A Small Room in Sienda

14      Meetings

15      What Can Be Learned in Dreams

16      An Unexpected Offer

17      Heading West

18      A Hound of Darkness

19      Memories

20      Jangai Pass

21      The Gift of a Blade

22      Birdcalls by Night

23      “The Fifth, I Give You”

24      A Message Sent

25      Dreams of Galad

26      Sallie Daera

27      The Practice of Diffidence

28      Trapped

29      Memories of Saldaea

30      A Wager

31      The Far Snows

32      A Short Spear

33      A Question of Crimson

34      A Silver Arrow

35      Ripped Away

36      A New Name

37      Performances in Samara

38      An Old Acquaintance

39      Encounters in Samara

40      The Wheel Weaves

41      The Craft of Kin Tovere

42      Before the Arrow

43      This Place, This Day

44      The Lesser Sadness

45      After the Storm

46      Other Battles, Other Weapons

47      The Price of a Ship

48      Leavetakings

49      To Boannda

50      To Teach, and Learn

51      News Comes to Cairhien

52      Choices

53      Fading Words

54      To Caemlyn

55      The Threads Burn

56      Glowing Embers





With his coming are the dread fires born again. The hills burn, and the land turns sere. The tides of men run out, and the hours dwindle. The wall is pierced, and the veil of parting raised. Storms rumble beyond the horizon, and the fires of heaven purge the earth. There is no salvation without destruction, no hope this side of death.


—fragment from
The Prophecies of the Dragon
believed translated by N’Delia Basolaine
First Maid and Swordfast to Raidhen of Hoi Cuchone

(circa 400 AB)




The First Sparks Fall

laida do Avriny a’Roihan absently fingered the long, seven-striped stole about her shoulders, the stole of the Amyrlin Seat, as she sat behind her wide writing table. Many would have accounted her beautiful, at first glance, but a second look made it clear that the severity of her ageless, Aes Sedai face was not a momentary matter. Today there was something more, a light of anger in her dark eyes. If anyone had noticed.

She barely listened to the women arrayed on stools before her. Their dresses were every color from white to the darkest red, in silk or wool as each woman’s taste dictated, yet all but one wore their formal shawls, embroidered White Flame of Tar Valon centered on their backs, colored fringe proclaiming their Ajahs, as though this were a meeting of the Hall of the Tower. They discussed reports and rumors of events in the world, trying to sift fact from fancy, trying to decide the Tower’s course of action, but they seldom even glanced at the woman behind the table, the woman they had sworn to obey. Elaida could not keep her full attention on them. They did not know what was really important. Or rather, they knew and feared to speak of it.

“There is apparently something happening in Shienar.” That was Danelle, slight and often seemingly lost in a dream, the only Brown sister present. Green and Yellow also had only one sister apiece, and none of the three Ajahs was pleased about that. There were no Blues. Now Danelle’s
big blue eyes looked thoughtfully inward; an unnoticed ink smudge stained her cheek, and her dark gray wool dress was rumpled. “There are rumors of skirmishes. Not with Trollocs, and not Aiel, though raids through the Niamh Passes appear to have increased. Between Shienarans. Unusual for the Borderlands. They seldom fight each other.”

“If they intend to have a civil war, they have chosen the proper time for it,” Alviarin said coolly. Tall and slim and all in white silk, she was the one without a shawl. The stole of the Keeper around her shoulders was white also, to show she had been raised from the White Ajah. Not Red, Elaida’s former Ajah, as tradition held. Whites were always cool. “The Trollocs might as well have vanished. The entire Blight seems quiet enough for two farmers and a novice to guard.”

Teslyn’s bony fingers shuffled papers on her lap, though she did not look at them. One of four Red sisters there—more than any other Ajah—she ran Elaida a close second for severity, though no one had ever thought her beautiful. “Better perhaps if it did no be so quiet,” Teslyn said, her Illianer accent strong. “I did receive a message this morning that the Marshal-General of Saldaea does have an army on the move. No toward the Blight, but in the opposite direction. South and east. He would no ever have done that if the Blight did no seem to be asleep.”

“Then word of Mazrim Taim is seeping out.” Alviarin could have been discussing the weather or the price of carpets instead of a potential disaster. Much effort had gone into capturing Taim, and as much into hiding his escape. No good to the Tower if the world learned they could not hold on to a false Dragon once he was taken. “And it seems that Queen Tenobia, or Davram Bashere, or both, thinks we cannot be trusted to deal with him again.”

Dead quiet fell at the mention of Taim. The man could channel—he had been on his way to Tar Valon to be gentled, cut off from the One Power forever, when he was broken free—yet that was not what curbed tongues. Once the existence of a man able to channel the One Power had been the deepest anathema; hunting such men down was the main reason of existence for the Red, and every Ajah helped as it could. But now most of the women beyond the table shifted on their stools, refusing to meet each other’s eyes, because speaking of Taim brought them too close to another subject they did not want to speak aloud. Even Elaida felt bile rise in her stomach.

BOOK: The Fires of Heaven
12.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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