The Burning White (Lightbringer #5) - Brent Weeks Page 0,70

of a father whose very name means ‘faithfulness,’ you were trusted to live up to that name your father earned and gave to you as a free gift. Elijah ben-Kaleb, you were sent into the shadows as a candle unlit, sent to take the flame at the perfect moment to banish that darkness. But you decided the price was too high. You came to hate the cost of the flame. You didn’t want your life consumed in giving light. But all our lives are wax, and time itself is heat unbearable, and every day we melt—but some of us take flame! I am such a soul, dying to bring light to a dark world.

“You? You felt your sacrifices were unseen and so your sins would be unseen, too. And so you were reborn to the shadows, and a name of light no longer fits you. No, nor that mockery they gave you. Sharp? Though molded into the shape of a blade and painted black, how sharp is melted wax? I, too, have a great gift, Elijah. And I, too, have been called to pay that selfsame price, to become a sacrifice seemingly unseen, to act with heroism unheralded.”

He sometimes acted with a bit of delay, struggling to make sense of words spoken to him, and that was all that saved her now. Was she calling him dull?

He wasn’t stupid!

But what ‘price’ was she going on about? And the thing she said he couldn’t do? What was that?

There were only moments left, but he was already waiting, and she speaking. Both knew this was rapidly winding to a finish. His paryl webs were still undisturbed.

If this was a trap, it was a shitty one.

Gently, she said, “Elijah, even with the eye of a Seer, I cannot see you, but I see the darkness you cast into every life you touch. And though it slay me, I choose to spend my life bringing light instead. You think you came here of your own will? I think you were brought to me. You were not sent by malice but pulled by mercy. You will kill me, I’ve no doubt, but nothing can hide you from the All-Seeing one. I dub thee Elijah ben-Zoheth, and I tell you this: for all your power, Elijah ben-Zoheth, you cannot steal that which I freely give.”

Then, in fear and rage, and in shame, exposed in the first light of the rising sun, he murdered her.

But afterward, for the entire long journey back to the Jaspers, he was troubled. He played that morning over and over in his mind. Had he blundered?

No. He couldn’t have kidnapped her as he’d kidnapped that slave Marissia for the Andross Guile job. It was too dangerous, the area unfamiliar. More importantly, those weren’t his orders—and the Old Man of the Desert was awfully particular about his orders being followed exactly, alpha to omega.

The roots of Sharp’s broken teeth throbbed at the very idea of disobeying his master.

He’d done right. He’d done the only thing he could do. It didn’t matter anyway. None of it meant anything.

But what had she freely given? He didn’t understand. The Name? That didn’t seem right. And what was that about anyway?

He knew its literal meaning, of course. He hadn’t walked Abornea’s shores for many years, but some things one doesn’t forget. Why had the Third Eye used her last words to Name him? And what did she mean by dubbing him ben-Zoheth, the Son of Separation?

Chapter 19

After her long night, the dawn prayers in the company of the faithful lightened Karris’s burdens; the pleasantly smiling Andross Guile waiting for her slammed them back in place. Then doubled them.

Andross smiling. Never a good sign.

It was a cloudless late-spring morning and the High Luxiats had opened the sanctuary’s massive sliding doors that all the congregants could greet the beauty of Orholam’s rising eye together. Karris’s sole consolation for what was doubtless going to be a painful interaction was the vision of Andross squinting against the sun behind her.

“Orholam shine upon you, Promachos,” Karris said. Orholam loves this man, too, she reminded herself, trying to squeeze some genuine feeling into her smile.

“May all your prayers be answered half as promptly,” he said, “and twice as kindly.” His smile was amused. He didn’t miss much.

The only way to baffle Andross was with real kindness. She’d fallen short of that. Again. Dammit.

“Oh—” Karris stifled the curse. The White really wasn’t supposed to curse. “Our meeting. The Parian situation. I forgot.”

“Understandable. I should’ve