More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Read between
July 1 - July 30, 2019
Shardblade appeared—as a massive wall sprang into existence. Wind blew inward, as if sucked by that materializing rock, making the cloth flap violently, snapping and writhing in the air. Why should the wind pull inward? Shouldn’t it have been blown outward by rock displacing it?
“. . . changed even when he was in the other room,” Rushu mumbled, flipping to another page. “Repeatable and measurable. Only flamespren so far, but so many potential other applications . . .”
I will figure out how to make more of that,
“The trick was finding a way to overcome the structural weaknesses of the gemstones, which succumb easily to the multiplied strain of simultaneous infusion drain and physical stress. We . . .”
“You don’t sound enthusiastic.” “I am, dear,” Navani said. “But this isn’t the most ambitious idea we’ve had for this technique. Not by a faint breeze or a stormwind.” He frowned at her. “It’s all very technical and theoretical right now,” Navani said, smiling. “But just wait. When you see the things the ardents are imagining—”
“Well tell me, Captain,” she said. “What is your name?” “Kaladin.” Odd. That sounded like a lighteyes’s name.
“At least I know my parentage!” she snapped back.
One of his eyes was intense blue. The other dark brown. Both lighteyed and dark. Shallan felt a chill.
“Same difference.” Sebarial grunted. “I could have sworn your dress was more vibrant before, your features sharper, prettier . . . Must have been the light.”
“I was off duty, sir,” Teft said. “Went to see what I could find in the market. Do I need to report every little thing I do?” “You went to the market,” Kaladin said, “in a highstorm?” “Time may have gotten away from me for a breath or two . . .” Teft said, looking away.
“Exactly!” She paused. “What’s a kurl?” “A crustacean,” Kaladin said, “about the size of a small axehound. Looks kind of like a cross between a crab and a tortoise.” “Ooooo . . .” Syl said. “I wanna see one!” “They don’t live out here.”
“Tell you what?” “If honor is dead,” Kaladin whispered. “He is,” Syl said. “But he lives on in men. And in me.”
suppose I don’t need to toughen you up. But boy, you’ve got red on your ears like I’ve never seen.”
The newcomer covertly dumped the pouch’s contents into his own drink, then raised it to his lips, gulping down the powder. What had it been?
“I have wondered,” the messenger said, “if any of you find the term odd. You know what an axe is. But what is a hound?” “Why does that matter?” Shallan asked. “Because it is a word,” the messenger replied. “A simple word with a world embedded inside, like a bud waiting to open.” He studied her. “I did not expect to find you here.”
“You needn’t fear me. I’m terribly ineffective at hurting people. I blame my upbringing.”
“Your father is slowly destroying your family,” the messenger said. “Your brother was right on that count. He was wrong about everything else.”
Dreder
also, they were the most articulate and refined of the Radiants.
“Were you scared?” Lopen asked. “No, of course not. Lunu’anaki cannot hurt man. Is forbidden by other gods. Everyone knows this.” Rock downed the rest of his second mug and raised it to the air, grinning and wagging it toward Ka again as she passed.
“Yeah,” Moash said. “One of his sons is even a one-eye. Graves doesn’t give a storm about what other people think of him. He does what is right. And in this case, it’s—” Moash glanced around. They were now surrounded by people. “It’s what he said. Someone has to do it.”
“I’m quite good at that,” Shallan said sourly, “considering how short a time I’ve been doing it.” “Short time?” Pattern said. “But we first . . .”
the tales of their strange and varied mnemonic abilities may have been embellished.
Shallan was barely listening. A Blade with the back edge ridged like flowing waves. Or perhaps tongues of fire. Etchings all along its surface. Curved, sinuous. She knew this Blade. It belonged to her brother Helaran.
She turned, trying not to stumble as she walked away. She finally knew what had happened to Helaran. You were involved in all of this, weren’t you, Helaran? she thought. Just like Father was. But how, why? It seemed that Amaram was trying to bring back the Voidbringers. Helaran had tried to kill him.
She looked the other way, squeezing her arms together, hugging herself. Such human gestures.
The dart pinned a cremling to one of the plant stems.
Shallan blushed. It occurred to her that this person she became when she put on the hat and dark hair was not an imitation of someone else, not a different person. It was just a version of Shallan herself.
Mraize passed his blowgun to the side. The short, masked girl was there, holding the cremling that Mraize had speared along with a dead mink, a blowgun dart in its neck. No, its leg twitched. It was merely stunned. Some poison on the dart, then?
“We will need to find how much he knows.” Mraize’s voice. “You will bring these pages to Master Thaidakar.
“No, I’m not worried about that one. The old fool sows chaos, but does not reach for the power offered by opportunity. He hides in his insignificant city, listening to its songs, thinking he plays in world events. He has no idea.
His is not the position of the hunter. This creature in Tukar, however, is different. I’m not convinced he is human. If he is, he’s certainly not of the local species. .
“I said not to tell me,” Wit replied. “You don’t need to, since I already know. A shame. If you knew the history of that flute, it would make your brain flip upside-down. And by that, I mean that I would shove you off the carriage for having spied on me.”
Wit grinned. “Well, that might be a little harder. I think there’s only one of those around these parts, and she and I never did get along.”
She glanced toward the city. No sign of the man in the black uniform. Maybe she’d lost him.
pulled out a handful of seeds. “I can’t affect the Physical Realm except in minor ways,” Wyndle said. “This means that you will need to use Investiture to—” Lift yawned. “Use Investiture to—”
“Your bond to me grants two primary classes of ability,” Wyndle said. “The first, manipulation of friction, you’ve already—don’t yawn at me!—discovered. We have been using that well for many weeks now, and it is time for you to learn the second, the power of Growth. You aren’t ready for what was once known as Regrowth, the healing of—”
“Well done,” Wyndle said. “We’ll make an Edgedancer out of you yet.”
She looked out the window. Surely she’d escaped Darkness, the man in the black and silver with the pale crescent birthmark on his cheek. The man with the dead, lifeless stare.
“Don’t know,” Lift said, strolling to the door. “Ain’t never been around my people.” “You’re not from the islands?” “Nope. Grew up in Rall Elorim.” “The . . . City of Shadows?” “Yup.” “Is it—” “Yup. Just like they say.”
“They can’t see me,” Wyndle said, growing up beside her to create another line of handholds, “because I exist mostly in the Cognitive Realm, even though I’ve moved my consciousness to this Realm. I can make myself visible to anyone, should I desire, though it’s not easy for me. Other spren are more skilled at it, while some have the opposite trouble. Of course, no matter how I manifest, nobody can touch me, as I barely have any substance in this Realm.” “Nobody but me,” Lift whispered, inching down the hallway. “You shouldn’t be able to either,” he said, sounding troubled. “What did you ask
...more
“Somehow, you are partly in the Cognitive Realm,” Wyndle said, coiling beside her and raising a twisting mesh of vines that could make a face. “It is the only answer I can find to why you can touch spren. And you can metabolize food directly into Stormlight.”
Wyndle moved along beside Lift. “Mother has given up on your kind. I can feel it. She doesn’t care any longer. Now that He’s gone . . .”
Huh, Lift thought, someone scratched a face off of that one. Who’d ruin a painting like that, and such a fine one, the Heralds all in a row?
The little animal was like a cremling, but with wings. Bound wings, tied-up legs. It had a strange little face, not crabbish like a cremling. More like a tiny axehound, with a snout, mouth, and eyes. It seemed sickly, and its shimmering eyes were pained. How could she tell that? The creature sucked the awesomeness from Lift. She actually saw it go, a glistening whiteness that streamed from her to the little animal. It opened its mouth, drinking it in.
But of course, Darkness wasn’t a real person. Of that, though little else, she was sure.
She needed an exit. A window. Her flight had just looped her around back near the Prime’s quarters. She picked a direction by instinct and started running, but one of Darkness’s minions appeared around a corner that way. He also carried a Shardblade. Some starvin’ luck, she had.
I will remember those who have been forgotten.
“Others may be detestable, but they do not dabble in arts that could return Desolation to this world.” His words were so cold. “What you are must be stopped.”
The highest tower in the world, hidden in the tops of the mountains, was perfect for his contemplation. If he had not been bound to an Oathstone, if he had been another man entirely, he would have stayed here.
