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Robert Jordan

The Wheel of Time. Book 7. Crown of Swords

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Elayne, Aviendha and Mat come ever closer to the bowl ter’angreal that may reverse the world’s endless heatwave and restore natural weather. Egwene begins to gather all manner of women who can channel — Sea Folk, Windfinders, Wise Ones, and some surprising others. And, above all, Rand faces the dread forsaken Sammael, in the shadows of Shadar Logoth, where the blood-hungry mist, Mashadar, waits for prey…
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    “Take care of yourselves, and look sharp,” he said. “You know what’s out there. There’s a storm coming.” Now why had he said that? “Move. We’re wasting light.”
  • Галя Ушенкоje citiraoprije 2 godine
    Birgitte gave Elayne a fond look, but it was to Mat she spoke. “I will,” she said. “Honor’s truth.”

    Mat tugged at his coat uncomfortably. He still was not sure how much he had told her while drunk. Light, but the woman could soak it up like dry sand. Even so, he gave the proper response for a Barashandan lord, accepting her pledge. “The honor of blood; the truth of blood.”
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    “I don’t bloody care about your bargains with anybody else, you daughter of the sands,” Mat snapped. So his irritation was not that well under control. A man could only take so much.

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