The bundle in Rand's arms seemed to weigh ten stone. Tam's sword. Where he had grown up, some men, at least, spoke of Tar Valon witches as they would speak of the Dark One. Rand shook his head, denying, but Thom seemed not to notice.
Light, no, I'm not Cairhienin, but for my sins, I married one. You are a woolhead, sometimes, Rand. Never! I walk in the Light, he grated hoarsely, and you can never touch me! Touch you, Lews Therin? Touch you? I can consume you! Taste it a Luc came to the Mountains of Dhoom.
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