By Robert Jordan
The Wheel of Time turns and a long time come and cross. What used to be, what is going to be, and what's, may perhaps but fall lower than the Shadow.
Let the Dragon trip back at the winds of time.
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During this sequel to the exceptional long island instances bestseller The Fires of Heaven, we plunge back into Robert Jordan's terribly wealthy, completely unforgettable world:
On the slopes of Shayol Ghul, the Myrddraal swords are solid, and the sky isn't the sky of this world;
In Salidar the White Tower in exile prepares an embassy to Caemlyn, the place Rand Al'Thor, the Dragon Reborn, holds the throne--and the place an unforeseen customer may perhaps switch the area. .. .
In Emond's box, Perrin Goldeneyes, Lord of the 2 Rivers, feels the pull of ta'veren to ta'veren and prepares to march. .. .
Morgase of Caemlyn reveals a such a lot unforeseen, and particularly unwelcome, best friend. .. .And south lies Illian, the place Sammael holds sway. .. .
Worry is available in the fingers of prophets . . .
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As the chaos grows, so does the ability of the darkish god Karak, who lays siege to Veldaren. If the town falls, the realm will undergo . . .
Father or son; a few offerings needs to be made in blood.
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Additional resources for Winter's Heart (The Wheel of Time, Book 9)
Talene flinched, but muttered the words in tones of hopelessness. " Otherwise, she only stared straight ahead dully, tears trailing down her cheeks. "Answer me truthfully," Saerin told her. " The words creaked, as if Talene's throat were rusty. The simple words froze Seaine in a way she had never expected. She had set out to hunt the Black Ajah, after all, and believed in her quarry as many sisters did not. She had laid hands on another sister, on a Sitter, had helped bundle Talene along deserted basement hallways wrapped in flows of Air, had broken a dozen Tower laws, committed serious crimes, all to hear an answer she had been nearly certain of before the question was asked.
Give him wine. The third best, I think. Inform him that I will see him as soon as I--" Taim strode into the room as though he owned the Palace. She did not need him named. Blue-and-gold Dragons wove round the sleeves of his black coat from elbows to cuffs, in imitation of the Dragons on Rand's arms. Though she suspected he would not appreciate the observation. He was tall, nearly as tall as Rand, with a hooked nose and dark eyes like augurs, a physically powerful man who moved with something of a Warder's deadly grace, but shadows seemed to follow him, as if half the lamps in the room had gone out; not real shadows, but an air of imminent violence that seemed palpable enough to soak up light.
Mortification drowned everything else in the bond, flooding through until Elayne felt her own face coloring. Quickly she put on a stern expression, hoping her crimson cheeks would pass for something other than an intense desire to squirm in her seat with Birgitte's humiliation. That mirroring effect could be more than merely inconvenient! Dyelin wasted only a moment on Birgitte. Tucking her handkerchief back in its place, she carefully set her cup back on the tray then planted her hands on her hips.