Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive #4) - Brandon Sanderson Page 0,172

monastery and straight toward the rim of the tower. Teft joined him, and the ardent—Kaladin hadn’t asked his name—trailed along behind. He didn’t go running for help, fortunately, but he clearly wasn’t willing to let them just leave with a patient either.

Noril walked quietly, and Kaladin let him adjust to the idea of being out of his cell.

“Kelek’s breath,” Teft muttered to Kaladin. “I was too harsh on that lady ardent. I chewed her out for keeping Noril instead of sending him to the experts—but if that’s what the experts were going to do, I see why she’d hesitate.”

Kaladin nodded. Soon after, Syl came zipping through the corridor. “There you are,” she said.

“Honorspren can feel where their knight is,” Kaladin said. “So you don’t need to act surprised at finding me.”

Syl gave an exaggerated eye roll, and he swore she made her eyes bigger for emphasis.

“What are we doing?” she said, landing on his shoulder and sitting primly with her legs crossed and her hands on her knees. “Actually, I don’t care. I need to tell you something. Aladar’s axehounds had puppies. I had no idea how much I needed to see puppies until I flew by them this morning. They are the grossest things on the planet, Kaladin. They’re somehow so gross that they’re cute. So cute I could have died! Except I can’t, because I’m an eternal sliver of God himself, and we have standards about things like that.”

“Well, glad you’re feeling better.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Me too.” She pointed toward Noril. “You found him, I see. Taking him to his niece?”

“Not yet,” Kaladin said.

He led Noril past a large corridor where people flowed in both directions. Across that, at long last, they stepped onto a balcony. A larger communal one, like the one by his clinic.

Noril stopped in the archway, his eyes watering as he looked up at the sky. Teft took him by the arm and led him out a little farther, to where some chairs were set beside the railing, overlooking the mountains.

Kaladin stepped up to the railing, and didn’t say anything at first.

Noril finally spoke. “Is she all right? My niece?”

“She’s worried about you,” Kaladin said, turning and settling into one of the seats. “My father—the surgeon you met in Hearthstone—says that you had a rough time of things before he met you.”

The man nodded, his stare hollow. He’d lost his family in a brutal way, Lirin had said, while being unable to help.

“For some of us,” Kaladin said, “it piles up bit by little bit. Until we realize we’re drowning. I thought I had it bad, but I suppose I wouldn’t trade places with you. Getting hit all at once like that…”

Noril shrugged.

“Nightmares?” Teft asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I can’t remember the details. Maybe that’s some mercy from the Almighty.” He took a deep breath, tipping his head back to see the sky. “I don’t deserve mercy. I don’t deserve anything.”

“You just want to stop existing,” Kaladin said. “You don’t want to actually kill yourself, not on most days. But you figure it sure would be convenient if you weren’t around anymore.”

“Better for everyone to not have to deal with me,” Noril said.

Syl landed again on Kaladin’s shoulder and leaned forward, watching Noril with an intense expression.

“It wouldn’t be, you know,” Kaladin said. “Better for everyone, if you vanished. Your niece loves you. Your return would make her life better.”

“I can’t feel that way,” Noril said.

“I know. That’s why you need someone to tell it to you. You need someone to talk to, Noril, when the darkness is strong. Someone to remind you the world hasn’t always been this way; that it won’t always be this way.”

“How do you … know this?” Noril asked.

“I’ve felt it,” Kaladin said. “Feel it most days.”

Noril turned toward Teft.

“A man can’t hate himself because of what he’s done or not done,” Teft said. “I used to. Still try to sometimes, but I keep reminding myself that’s the easy path. It isn’t what they would have wanted of me, you know?”

“Yeah,” Noril said, sitting back. He still had that haunted cast to his eyes, but he at least seemed to be breathing more deeply. “Thank you. For bringing me out of that place. For talking to me.”

Kaladin glanced at the ardent, who hovered behind them. Teft kept Noril talking—not about anything important, just where he was from. Apparently he’d lost his arm years ago, in a different event than when he’d lost his family.

The more he talked, the better he