Isles of the Emberdark

by Brandon Sanderson

For her, sleep meant darkness.

No, she couldn’t side with the Scadrians, no matter what fantastic promises they offered. They would never let Nazh go willingly. He was too dangerous, and his kind too hated. Plus, he was a possible bit of leverage over the Night Brigade, if nothing else.

“Scadrian arrogance is of a caliber easy to exploit,” ZeetZi said. “They assume their technology is beyond anyone else, but I am of Invention’s people—and we spent centuries struggling to escape the watch of the Sleepless and their experiments.

“More stubborn than dangerous,” he said. “Impressively so. It’s been eight years, and his planet hasn’t buckled before Malwish pressure or inevitable bribes from other planets trying to turn them. Drominad can’t be conquered because of a technicality… Anyone care what kind, or shall I skip it?” “I care,” Leonore said, raising her hand. “I won’t understand it, maybe, but I care.” “The planet has a higher-than-average presence of Investiture, indicating likely Shard involvement, even if none have claimed it,” Ed said, his enthusiasm sparkling in his voice. “Might be some remnant of Ambition, and no one knows where Virtuosity is these days. Hell, it could have been Dominion or any number of other Shards that can no longer explain what they did. Either way, you can’t conquer a planet like this—not without drawing the ire of major powers. Like, Invested powers.”

“Diplomacy is the only valid option. It can be a hollow shell of diplomacy, filled with bribes, threats, or manipulations—but you have to make the smallest effort to get local approval. And like I said, it isn’t working. These folks have rebuffed the most important and powerful forces in the cosmere for years. Not biting on gifts, not bending to threats. Instead, they unified under a central government and began making demands.”

Drominad is still a free agent. That’s got to be extremely aggravating to the Malwish.” Starling smiled. “A preindustrial society flipping off the Scadrians? I wonder if my master has been here. Sounds like he’d love the place.” “They’re industrialized, but barely,” Ed said. “Oh, and I could go on forever about those birds, but I thought you should know this part if you’re going to meet a Drominadian. They don’t give in easily. They’ve fared better than my people did.”

She pressed her hand, palm down, on the table and the rest reached in, hands on hers. Even Aditil, who in the past had complained that the gesture reminded her of some kind of sporting event ritual, though it was a draconic symbol of solidarity.

“Star. It had our voices ready to deploy. It was preparing to duplicate us.” “They don’t replace people. They’re not kandra.” “It has our voices,” he repeated. “She’s helping us speak in private.” “Because it’s in even more danger than we are, here,” he said. “Don’t trust it. I know it’s listening now. They’re always listening, always playing with worlds, always observing them. Never helping. They don’t help unless it benefits them.”

“You will have one more companion,” Dajer said. Dusk frowned, but this was the type of statement that people often explained if you gave them time, so he did not demand anything. Indeed, Dajer gestured to a floating object, made of shiny steel, in the shape of a pill—only much larger. It was perhaps two feet across, oval, and marked by blinking lights like eyes. A long wire drooped behind it, like a hose, leading back to the buildings. “An observation machine?” Dusk said, stomach sinking. “I thought you said those didn’t work in here.”

“The previous machines were wireless, and we are confident this one—with the new and reinforced wire—will resist the entity’s influence. I will be in the observation room, watching through the eyes of this machine, which we call a drone.

“We’ve lost eight of these so far. Even the ones we programmed to enter, continue after we lost contact, then return. None did. So be careful.” Then he leaned in closer to the woman. “If you go on ahead without the drone, dragon, I will consider that an attempt to escape. I will be forced to retaliate against your crew. Stay in sight, please. And do enjoy the trip.”

“This will do,” Starling said, then let the wasp land on her arm. Dusk gasped, freezing. She hadn’t. She… Starling poked the insect, and it started stinging her like crazy. Dusk scrambled back, kicking up dirt on the cavern floor. She… She… Starling was dead. Even if she hadn’t fallen yet, they’d stung her, and would lay eggs in her corpse. He put his hands to his head, disturbed by the woman’s sudden foolish… The wasp fell dead. Dropped to the soil, twitched a moment, then fell still. What? Starling eyed it, then cocked her head. “Huh. I actually feel something. Manacles cold… Slight lightheadedness…” She seemed genuinely disturbed. “That’s no ordinary insect.” “I told you it wasn’t. You…you should be dead,” Dusk whispered. “Are you a god?” “My uncle is,” she said. “I never finished the training.”

“Your birds are Invested, so maybe the insects are too… I shouldn’t even be able to feel the poison.” “It’s the nephilim,” Dajer said, “in the pool outside. We brought Feruchemical healing devices, and they didn’t work in the slightest. Something’s interfering with Investiture in this cave.”