Words of Radiance (The Stormlight Archive, #2)

by Brandon Sanderson

This place was above them all. Urithiru ruled even the clouds.

She’d written again, and gotten the reply that Navani was busy caring for Dalinar, who had come down with a sickness. Nothing life-threatening, apparently, but he had withdrawn for a few days to recuperate.

“I have guessed that what you said is humorous,” Pattern said. “Though I do not know why. It was not a joke. I know of jokes. A soldier came running into camp after going to see the prostitutes. He was white in the face. His friends asked if he had found a good time. He said that he had not. They asked why. He said that when he’d asked how much the woman charged, she’d said one mark plus the tip. He told his friends that he hadn’t realized they were charging body parts now.” Shallan grimaced. “You heard that from Vathah’s men, didn’t you?” “Yes. It is funny because the word ‘tip’ means several different things. A payment made in addition to the sum initially charged, usually given voluntarily, and the top piece of something. In addition, I believe that ‘the tip’ means something in the slang of the soldiers, and so the man in the joke thought she was going to cut off his—” “Yes, thank you,” Shallan said.

“Can you hold Stormlight?” Shallan asked Pattern. “I don’t . . . I mean . . . Investiture is the means by which I .

He stood, waving away some strange spren like taut wires crossing before him, then forced himself to do a set of push-ups.

Confirmed captivityspren

He had been left behind in Alethkar to spy on the queen, or so the Ghostbloods inferred. But why would someone need to keep an eye on the queen?

“One of Ishar’s Knights,” the madman whispered. His eyes narrowed. “I remember . . . He founded them? Yes. Several Desolations ago. No longer just talk. It hasn’t been talk for thousands of years. But . . . When . . .”

“I’ll be all right,” Kaladin said, letting Stormlight rise from his lips like smoke. “I just need to get out of this cage.” “It’s worse than that. It’s the darkness . . . the darkness . . .” She looked to the side, then giggled suddenly, streaking off to inspect something on the floor. A little cremling that was creeping along the edge of the room. She stood over it, eyes widening at the stark red and violet color of its shell.

“Ah . . .” Amaram said, breathing out. “Almighty above, ten names, all true. You are beautiful. Gavilar, we have done it. We have finally done it.”

“I seek the truth,” Shallan said. “Wherever it may be, whoever may hold it. That’s who I am.”

She looked radiant tonight, hair done with sapphires that glowed softly in the light. Navani liked these strolls together, and they were in no hurry to arrive at the feast.

“Our breakthrough was realizing that the gemstones in the Blades—used to bond them—might not have originally been part of the weapons.” He frowned. “That’s important?” “Yes. If this is true, it means the Blades aren’t powered by the stones. Credit goes to Rushu, who asked why a Shardblade can be summoned and dismissed even if its gemstone has gone dun. We had no answers, and she spent the last few weeks in contact with Kharbranth, using one of those new information stations. She came up with a scrap from several decades after the Recreance which talks about men learning to summon and dismiss Blades by adding gemstones to them, an accident of ornamentation it seems.”

“We had been assuming that somehow, the strength and lightness of the Blades was a fabrial construct powered by the gemstone,” Navani said. “This might not be the case. It seems the gemstone’s purpose is only used in initially bonding the Blade—something that the Radiants didn’t need to do.” “Wait. They didn’t?” “Not if this fragment is correct. The implication is that the Radiants could always dismiss and summon Blades—but for a time the ability was lost. It was only recovered when someone added a gemstone to his Blade. The fragment says the weapons actually shifted shape to adopt the stones, but I’m not certain if I trust that.

“Please,” Wit said, refusing the hand. “I wouldn’t want it to rub off on me.” “It?” “Whatever you’ve been using to make your hands look clean, Brightlord Amaram. It must be powerful stuff indeed.”

“I know. It’s incredibly frustrating, I must admit. I have discovered a place that I must be, though to be honest I’m not exactly sure why I need to be there. This doesn’t always work as well as I’d like it to.”

Wit smiled. “I am but a man, Dalinar, so much as I wish it were not true at times. I am no Radiant. And while I am your friend, please understand that our goals do not completely align. You must not trust yourself with me. If I have to watch this world crumble and burn to get what I need, I will do so. With tears, yes, but I would let it happen.”

will do what I can to help,” Wit said, “and for that reason, I must go. I cannot risk too much, because if he finds me, then I become nothing—a soul shredded and broken into pieces that cannot be reassembled. What I do here is more dangerous than you could ever know.”

“The one you fight, Dalinar Kholin. The father of hatred.” Wit saluted, then jogged off.

“You want too much of me,” he snapped at her as he reached the other side of the chasm. “I’m not some glorious knight of ancient days. I’m a broken man. Do you hear me, Syl? I’m broken.” She zipped up to him and whispered, “That’s what they all were, silly.” She streaked away.

“No,” Rock said. “The bridge is light because we have defeated Sadeas. Is the proper way of things.” “That makes no sense.” “Ha! Perfect sense.” He took a drink. “Airsick lowlander.”

“So . . . tell her that, maybe?” Kaladin said, thinking back to Tarah, and the mistakes he’d made.

“You won’t have a Shardblade, but won’t need one, because of . . . you know.” “I know?” Kaladin felt a spike of alarm. “Yeah . . . you know.” Adolin glanced away and shrugged, as if trying to act nonchalant. “That thing.” “What thing?” “The thing . . . with the . . . um, stuff?” He doesn’t know, Kaladin realized. He’s just fishing, trying to figure out why I can fight so well. And he’s doing a really, really bad job of it. Kaladin relaxed, and even found himself smiling at Adolin’s awkward attempt. It was nice to feel an emotion other than panic or worry. “I don’t think you have any idea what you’re talking about.”

It’s that same carpenter, Kaladin thought. The stout man with the cap and the birthmark. Where have I seen him . . . ?

You’re just going to continue to be an intolerant, odious man, full of spite. Incapable of being pleasant around others. Your life must be very lonely.”

Whether this was Tanavast’s design or not, millennia have passed without Rayse taking the life of another of the sixteen. While I mourn for the great suffering Rayse has caused, I do not believe we could hope for a better outcome than this.