grasp, and they threw themselves at Dalinar. Warrior after warrior fell as Dalinar slaughtered them in sweeps, protecting the space just around him.
He couldn’t stop them all. His armor took hits, mostly on the arms and back. The armor cracked, like a crystal under too much stress.
He roared, striking down four Parshendi as two more hit him from behind, making his armor vibrate. He spun and killed one, the other barely dancing out of range. Dalinar began to pant, and when he moved quickly, he left trails of blue Stormlight in the air. He felt like a bloodied prey beast trying to fend off a thousand different snapping predators at once.
But he was no chull, whose only protection was to hide. He killed, and the Thrill rose to a crescendo within him. He sensed real danger, a chance of falling, and that made the Thrill surge. He nearly choked on it, the joy, the pleasure, the desire. The danger. More and more blows got through; more and more Parshendi were able to duck or dodge out of the way of his Blade.
He felt a breeze through the back of his breastplate. Cooling, terrible, frightening. The cracks were widening. If the breastplate burst…
He screamed, slamming his blade down through a Parshendi, burning out his eyes, dropping the man without a mark on his skin. Dalinar brought his Blade up, spinning, cutting through the legs of another foe. His insides were a tempest of emotions, and his brow beneath the helm streamed with sweat. What would happen to the Alethi army if both he and Sadeas fell here? Two highprinces dead in the same battle, two sets of Plate and one Blade lost?
It couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t fall here. He didn’t yet know if he was mad or not. He couldn’t die until he knew!
Suddenly, a wave of Parshendi died that he hadn’t attacked. A figure in brilliant blue Shardplate burst through them. Adolin held his massive Shardblade in a single hand, the metal gleaming.
Adolin swung again, and the Cobalt Guard rushed forward, pouring into the gap Adolin created. The Parshendi song changed tempo, becoming frantic, and they fell back as more and more troops punched through, some in green, others in blue.
Dalinar knelt down, exhausted, letting his Blade vanish. His guard surrounded him, and Adolin’s army washed over them all, overrunning the Parshendi, forcing them back. In a few minutes, the area was secure.
The danger was past.
“Father,” Adolin said, kneeling beside him, pulling his helm off. The youth’s blond and black hair was disheveled and sweat-slick. “Storms! You gave me a fright! Are you well?”
Dalinar pulled his own helm free, sweet cooling air washing across his damp face. He took a deep breath, then nodded. “Your timing is…quite good, son.”
Adolin helped Dalinar back to his feet. “I had to punch through the entire Parshendi army. No disrespect, Father, but what in the storms made you pull a stunt like that?”
“The knowledge that you could handle the army if I fell,” Dalinar said, clapping his son on the arm, their Plate clinking.
Adolin caught sight of the back of Dalinar’s Shardplate, and his eyes opened wide.
“Bad?” Dalinar asked.
“Looks like it’s held together with spit and twine,” Adolin said. “You’re leaking Light like a wineskin used for archery practice.”
Dalinar nodded, sighing. Already his Plate was feeling sluggish. He’d probably have to remove it before they returned to the camp, lest it freeze on him.
To the side, several soldiers were pulling Sadeas free of his Plate. It was so far gone that the Light had stopped save for a few tiny wisps. It could be fixed, but it would be expensive—regenerating Shardplate generally shattered the gemstones it drew Light from.
The soldiers pulled Sadeas’s helm off, and Dalinar was relieved to see his former friend blinking, looking disoriented but largely uninjured. He had a cut on his thigh where one of the Parshendi had gotten him with a sword, and a few scrapes on his chest.
Sadeas looked up at Dalinar and Adolin. Dalinar stiffened, expecting recrimination—this had only happened because Dalinar had insisted on fighting with two armies on the same plateau. That had goaded the Parshendi into bringing another army. Dalinar should have set proper scouts to watch for that.
Sadeas, however, smiled a wide grin. “Stormfather, but that was close! How goes the battle?”
“The Parshendi are routed,” Adolin said. “The last force resisting was the one around you. Our men are cutting the gemheart free at this moment. The day is ours.”
“We win again!” Sadeas