Blushing, Nynaeve looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Rand pushed through the crowd to the innkeeper. Just the big square tool chests and the quenching barrels full of oil. For a time she studied his face.
He had never seen fireworks elaborate enough to require even one Illuminator. Folded with the dangerous sigil inside and tied with a cord looped so it could be slung on a shoulder, it looked not much different from the packs he had seen carried by other young men on the road. But she spoke more of the young man you took away with you. He had enough of the Old Tongue to know the latter meant Those Who Come Before, or the Forerunners.
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