By Robert Jordan
The Wheel of Time turns, and Robert Jordan provides us the 11th quantity of his impressive masterwork of fantasy.
The useless are strolling, males die very unlikely deaths, and it sort of feels as if fact itself has turn into volatile: All are indicators of the imminence of Tarmon Gai'don, the final conflict, while Rand al'Thor, the Dragon Reborn, needs to confront the darkish One as humanity's purely wish. yet Rand dares now not struggle till he possesses the entire surviving seals at the darkish One's felony and has handled the Seanchan, who threaten to overrun all international locations this facet of the Aryth Ocean and more and more look too entrenched to be fought off. yet his try to make a truce with the Seanchan is shadowed by way of treachery that could rate him every little thing. regardless of the fee, although, he should have that truce. And he faces different hazards. There are these one of the Forsaken who will visit any size to determine him dead--and the Black Ajah is at his side....
Unbeknownst to Rand, Perrin has made his personal truce with the Seanchan. it's a deal made with the darkish One, in his eyes, yet he'll do no matter what is required to rescue his spouse, Faile, and smash the Shaido who captured her. one of the Shaido, Faile works to unfastened herself whereas hiding a mystery that may provide her her freedom or reason her destruction. And at a city referred to as Malden, the 2 Rivers longbow can be matched opposed to Shaido spears.
Fleeing Ebou Dar via Seanchan-controlled Altara with the abducted Daughter of the 9 Moons, Mat makes an attempt to court docket the lady to whom he's half-married, understanding that she is going to entire that rite finally. yet Tuon coolly leads him on a merry chase as he learns that even a present could have deep importance one of the Seanchan Blood and what he thinks he understands of ladies isn't really adequate to avoid wasting him. For purposes of her personal, which she is going to now not display until eventually a time of her making a choice on, she has pledged to not get away, yet Mat nonetheless sweats every time there are Seanchan squaddies close to. Then he learns that Tuon herself is in lethal possibility from these very infantrymen. To get her to defense, he needs to do what he hates worse than work....
In Caemlyn, Elayne fights to achieve the Lion Throne whereas attempting to stay clear of what turns out a definite civil conflict may still she win the crown....
In the White Tower, Egwene struggles to undermine the sisters dependable to Elaida from within....
The winds of time became a hurricane, and issues that everybody believes are mounted in position perpetually are altering prior to their eyes. Even the White Tower itself is not any longer a spot of safeguard. Now Rand, Perrin and Mat, Egwene and Elayne, Nynaeve and Lan, or even Loial, needs to trip these typhoon winds, or the darkish One will triumph.
Quick preview of Knife of Dreams: Book Eleven of 'The Wheel of Time' (The Wheel of Time, Book 11) PDF
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Additional resources for Knife of Dreams: Book Eleven of 'The Wheel of Time' (The Wheel of Time, Book 11)
The inspiration of impending Elaida had vanished like summer season dew. Their one coverage that Elaida used to be no longer herself Black Ajah have been that she instigated the search for them, yet on the grounds that she had performed no such forty three KNIFE OF goals factor . . . . at the very least the Black Ajah remained in lack of expertise of them. no less than they'd that, nonetheless. yet for the way for much longer? “On mine, too,” she acknowledged softly. Alviarin glided alongside the corridors of the decrease Tower with an outward air of serenity that she hung on to difficult. evening appeared to grasp to the partitions regardless of the reflected stand-lamps, the ghosts of shadows dancing the place none will be. mind's eye, absolutely, but they danced at the edges of imaginative and prescient. The hallways have been practically empty, notwithstanding the second one sitting of supper had simply ended. such a lot sisters most well liked to have nutrients stated to their rooms, nowadays, however the hardier and the extra defiant ventured to the eating halls now and then, and a handful nonetheless took lots of their nutrients under. She wouldn't probability sisters seeing her seem flustered or moved quickly; she refused to allow them to think she used to be scuttling approximately furtively. truthfully, she disliked an individual her in any respect. Outwardly calm, she seethed inside of. without warning she discovered that she used to be fingering the spot on her brow the place Shaidar Haran had touched her. the place the good Lord himself had marked her as his. Hysteria bubbled nearly to the skin with that suggestion, yet she maintained a delicate face through sheer will and accrued her white silk skirts somewhat. that are meant to preserve her arms occupied. the nice Lord had marked her. most sensible to not imagine on that. yet the best way to steer clear of it? the nice Lord . . . . at the open air she displayed absolute composure, yet inside used to be a swirling tangle of mortification and hatred and intensely with reference to gibbering terror. The exterior calm was once what mattered, although. And there has been a seed of wish. That mattered, too. a strange factor to think about as hopeful, but she may cling directly to something that would hold her alive. preventing in entrance of a tapestry that confirmed a girl donning an complicated crown kneeling to a couple long-ago Amyrlin, she pretended to ascertain it whereas glancing fast to left and correct. apart from her, the hall remained as barren of lifestyles as an deserted tomb. Her hand darted at the back of the sting of the tapestry, and straight away she was once jogging on back, clutching a folded message. A miracle that it had reached her so speedy. The paper looked as if it would burn her palm, yet she couldn't learn it the following. At a measured velocity, she climbed reluctantly to the White Ajah quarters. Calm and unfazed by means of whatever, at the open air. the nice Lord had marked her. different sisters have been going to examine her. The White used to be the smallest of the Ajahs, and rarely greater than twenty of its sisters have been within the Tower at this time, but it appeared that almost them all have been forty four Prologue: Embers Falling on Dry Grass out in most cases hallway. The stroll alongside the obvious white flooring tiles looked like working a gauntlet. Seaine and Ferane have been heading out regardless of the hour, shawls draped alongside their hands, and Seaine gave her a small smile of commiseration, which made her are looking to kill the Sitter, continually thrusting her sharp nostril in the place it was once undesirable.