Words of Radiance (The Stormlight Archive, #2)

by Brandon Sanderson

‘Bother,’ she said. ‘I’ve left you upset. I’m not very good at this wooing thing.’ ‘Could have fooled me . . .’ Adolin said, resting his hand on her arm.

‘Honor is dead,’ a voice whispered from beside him. Dalinar turned and looked at Captain Kaladin. He hadn’t noticed the bridgeman walking down the steps behind him. Kaladin took a deep breath, then looked at Dalinar. ‘But I’ll see what I can do. If this goes poorly, take care of my men.’ Spear in hand, he grabbed the edge of the wall and flung himself over, dropping to the sands of the arena floor below.

He hummed softly to himself and nodded. ‘Perfect pitch,’ Wit said, ‘makes this all so much easier than it once was. . . .’

‘At least,’ she said, reaching her hand over his shoulder and past his head, ‘take this.’ ‘Take what?’ ‘This,’ Shallan said. Then she summoned a Shardblade.

Shallan wasn’t likely to be a Surgebinder. Otherwise, he suspected she’d hate this Blade as much as he did.

She looked gorgeous. Kaladin was willing to admit it, if only to himself. Brilliant red hair, ready smile. She said something clever; Kaladin could almost hear the words. He waited, hoping that she’d look toward him, meet his eyes across the short distance. She didn’t. She rode on, and Kaladin felt like an utter fool. A part of him wanted to hate Adolin for holding her attention, but he found that he couldn’t. The truth was, he liked Adolin. And those two were good for one another. They fit.

He grinned, Shardplate helm hanging from his saddle so as to not mess up his hair. She waited for him to add a quip to hers, but he didn’t. That was all right. She liked Adolin as he was. He was kind, noble, and genuine. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t brilliant or . . . or whatever else Kaladin was. She couldn’t even define it. So there.

He splashed through puddles of water, and found himself smiling because he wore the boots Shallan had stolen from him.

‘The Knights Radiant,’ Kaladin said softly, ‘have returned.’

‘You sent him to the sky to die, assassin,’ Kaladin said, Stormlight puffing from his lips, ‘but the sky and the winds are mine. I claim them, as I now claim your life.’

He had not seen a sword with a metal sheath before. And who sheathed a Shardblade? And the Blade itself . . . was it black? An inch or so of it had emerged from the sheath as it slid on the rocks. Szeth swore he could see a small trail of black smoke coming off the metal. Like Stormlight, only dark. Hello, a cheerful voice said in his mind. Would you like to destroy some evil today?