The Burning White (Lightbringer #5) - Brent Weeks Page 0,20

the sponge afterward. Wrinkled his nose, coughed.

“Deep cover,” she said. Why was it so hard to let him know that?

“Very deep, if you’d kill the Prism to maintain it.”

“You think I’ve already decided,” she said, piqued.

“Adrasteia!” he whispered, triumphantly. “Kip’s Blackguard partner. Knew I’d heard that voice before.”

She didn’t think that before now she’d spoken two sentences in front of Gavin Guile, and he remembered her voice? Dammit. The man was a legend for a reason.

“They have my dad,” she said. Wasn’t sure why she said that, either.

It had been so long since she’d had anyone to talk to at all. Karris was the nearest thing, and Karris was her commander. A friendly commander was still not quite a friend. Not in these times.

Or maybe there was a reason so many had given their confessions to this man.

“Ah,” Gavin said, getting it. He scrubbed his other armpit. “So those goons guarding the passage back into the Chromeria are sub-reds, then. To make sure you go.”

“I can drop them,” Teia said. “Probably.”

“All four?” he asked, amused.

Four? She’d only seen two. “Two before the others attack . . . ?” It came out with a silent ‘maybe’ on the end, which she hated.

And I’m in deep cover. You’d think I’d be a better liar.

“And then everyone on this ship joins the fight,” Gavin said. “Not on our side, in case you were getting your hopes up.”

“What if we jump off at the last moment? Takes a while to turn a ship around . . . even if a few jump off and swim to pursue, we’d have a good head start.” It was desperation talking, though.

Gavin didn’t answer. He looked toward the rising sun. He was trembling merely from the effort of scrubbing his legs. A running leap from the ship, past how many people?

He couldn’t even run. Certainly couldn’t fight.

“What if—what if I had another cloak? Could you . . . ?” Gavin Guile had once been able to do everything anyone else could do with drafting. Maybe he, too, had discovered paryl dispersal clouds thick enough to fool sub-reds.

But he just shook his head. “It was just an idle game. I can’t go with you regardless.”

Teia couldn’t take four men by herself while trying to protect Gavin. Were all four Blackguards, or just the two?

What was Teia going to do? Try to carry him and keep him invisible, then fight four men by herself? Four men with muskets?

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Gavin Guile said, looking at the sunrise. “I can’t see the colors. The Blinding Knife took that from me, and I—fool that I was—for a long time I cursed every new dawn for the beauty I recalled but could no longer see. Instead, I should’ve blessed every dawn for the beauty it granted everyone else, regardless of my handicap. I should’ve blessed Orholam for the memory He gave that let me call to mind so perfectly the thousand hues and tones of a summer dawn. I was an ingrate.”

“We need you,” Teia said. “I need you. I can’t stop them.”

“You can get past them?” he asked. “You can escape if you’re alone?”

“Paryl cloud. Works for sub-red, even paryl itself, if you’re good enough and there’s no wind.”

“Funny. I never really bothered with paryl. They all said it was useless, and it always hurt my eyes when I tried to play with it. Of course, I didn’t know it had any real use. Now . . . Shimmercloaks. Magic swords. It’s like I’ve lived long enough to see all my childhood stories come to life. Just need a dragon now.” He paused. “On second thought, no dragons. I think we’re fine without dragons.”

He pulled on his new trousers. Threw on the loose tunic. “Tell Karris I live. Tell her . . . tell her to give me twelve months before she marries some other lucky bastard. I’ll either be back by then or I won’t be back ever. And you, go save your dad.”

“I can’t,” Teia said. “He’s hidden. I’ve got no way to find him. All the Order’s cells are kept separ—”

They were interrupted by Captain Gunner coming up to the waist of the ship from belowdecks.

“It’s just a matter of will, Adrasteia,” Gavin said. “You grab the one thread your fingers can reach, and you pull until the whole cloth unravels.”

“It’s not that simple. They’ re—”

“And if you can’t save your father, then you poison the well. You rip them out by the root. And every time your