watching, she plastered a smile on her face. That struck him as fake; she seemed to be trying a little too hard today. Or maybe he was projecting.
He stretched, then stepped out and peeked into the waiting room. Only a handful of people remained today. So Kaladin had time for a short break.
He walked along the hallway into the family room, which had a door out onto the communal balcony. As he’d hoped when they’d come here, that wide balcony now served as a general-purpose meeting place for the people of Hearthstone, like a town square. Laundry flapped on lines to one side. Children ran and played. People sat and chatted.
Kaladin trailed out to the edge of the balcony. Below he could see Dalinar’s armies gathering for the trip to Azir. He forced himself to look and to acknowledge he wasn’t going with them.
A figure in blue streaked by, soaring through the air. Leyten must have seen Kaladin, because a short time later a larger group of Windrunners hovered up near the balcony. Most everyone stopped their activities, children running to the balcony’s edge.
As one, the Windrunners saluted. The Bridge Four salute; though most had never been in Bridge Four and didn’t use the salute to one another, they always gave it to him and other members of the original Windrunners.
He returned the Bridge Four salute to them all, tapping his wrists together.
The fifty-odd Windrunners turned and streaked back down. Below, light flashed in a circle around the Oathgate, making an entire battalion of troops vanish. They’d learned that how much Stormlight was expended for a transfer depended on the Radiant operating the device—the more experienced the Radiant, the less Stormlight required. Jasnah was probably operating today; she could do things with her powers that were well beyond the rest of them. Though she didn’t show it off, she’d plainly sworn the Fourth Ideal. The one Kaladin would never reach.
“They’re all going away,” Syl said softly, landing on his shoulder.
“Not all of them,” Kaladin said. “Around twenty will stay to guard the tower.”
“But none of our friends.”
It was true. All the former members of Bridge Four were going with Dalinar. Maybe Rlain would stay behind, and work on the fields? Though he often chose to go with the Windrunner support staff, to help out there, with Dabbid and a few squire hopefuls.
Watching them all fly off, it was impossible not to feel so very alone.
Remember the peace you have felt this last week, Kaladin thought. Don’t be sorry for yourself. Be excited for the new path forward you’re making.
The thoughts didn’t work; it still hurt to see them all leave. Hurt to know Shallan and Adolin had gone off to Shadesmar without him. He had his parents and his new brother, and he appreciated that. But the men and women of Bridge Four had become equally important to him.
That part of his life was over. Best not to dwell on it. Kaladin returned to the exam room. Hawin was waiting, so he sent her for the next patient.
He settled into a rhythm, seeing patients, occasionally sticking his head into the next exam room to ask his father for advice on a diagnosis or remedy. He dealt with an unusual number of coughs. Apparently there was something moving through the tower—a sickness that left people with mucus in their lungs and an overall feeling of aches. He’d never encountered anything like it. His father had been tracking it though, and said that Kharbranthian surgeons reported it wasn’t deadly. A plague from the West that, when all was said and done, didn’t live up to its reputation. The sickness barely attracted any plaguespren—though there didn’t seem to be many around the tower to attract, so that would be part of it.
He recommended lots of rest, fluids, and handwashing. The day stretched long, and the patients slowed to a trickle. One woman stood out to him. She was a refugee, and while getting treated for her coughs, she asked if Kaladin had seen her uncle. She’d heard of someone matching his description arriving in Hearthstone immediately before the evacuation.
Kaladin had her wait and went looking for his father. Lirin’s exam room was empty, but Hesina’s voice rose from the waiting room, so Kaladin walked out to ask her about the refugee’s uncle.
Right before he arrived, Kaladin heard a familiar voice that made him freeze in place.
“—always been like this,” the gruff voice said. “Been clean for … what, six months now? Storm me.