Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive #4) - Brandon Sanderson Page 0,182

month, but they haven’t had as much help lately. Something about Reachers not being around? What are Reachers, anyway?”

“They’re a specific bronze-skinned kind of spren,” Radiant said. “They were sailors on our previous voyage.”

“Well, they aren’t around as much to hire these days, I guess,” Vathah said.

“Did the others say why?”

“I didn’t ask,” Vathah said.

“How odd,” Radiant said. Now, how could she get to the topic of a corrupted spren? She considered, and began to regard this as a silly exercise. Why not ask him if he was the spy. If she was firm enough, he’d admit to his wrongdoing.

She opened her mouth to do just that, but had enough common sense to stop herself. This was … not a good idea, was it? Having her do espionage?

No, Shallan thought, emerging with a sigh. I guess it isn’t.

“Hey,” Shallan said to Vathah as they scrubbed. “You know we’re a family, right? The Court, the group of us? You don’t have to always go off alone and punish yourself.”

“Not punishing myself,” he growled. “Just wanted to be busy. And away from questions. Everyone asks too many questions when they get bored.”

“You don’t have to answer them,” she said. “Really, Vathah. You’re one of us, and we accept you. As you are.”

He glanced at her, then sat back on his knees, dripping brush in hand. Shallan did likewise, noting that she’d scuffed her trousers. Radiant was always too eager to throw herself into labor, never worrying about her clothing.

“Shallan,” he said.

She nodded.

Vathah returned to his work and didn’t speak as he continued to scrub. Unlike Ishnah, he was perfectly willing to let silence hang. It was harder for Shallan, but she did. For a time the only sound was that of bristles on wood.

“Does it work?” Vathah finally asked. “These three faces you put on? Does it actually help you somehow?”

“It does,” Shallan said. “It really does. Most of the time, at least.”

“Can’t decide if I envy you or not,” Vathah replied. “I’d like to be able to pretend. Something broke in me, you know? A long time ago. Used to be a good soldier. Used to care. But then you see what you’ve done—legitimately see it—and realize everything you fought for was a sham. What do polished buttons matter when you’ve got a child’s blood on your boots?” He scrubbed harder at a spot on the deck. “Figure if I learn to Lightweave well enough, maybe I’ll turn into someone else…”

That stabbed her straight through.

Strength, Shallan, Radiant thought. Strength before weakness.

“Wouldn’t that be a blessing?” Vathah continued. “To become someone else? Someone new?”

“You can do that without Lightweaving,” Shallan said.

“Can I?” Vathah asked. “Can you?”

“I…”

“We’ve got a blessing in this power,” he continued. “Lets us turn into other people.”

“It’s not a blessing,” Shallan whispered. “It’s survival.”

“Feels worse in this place,” Vathah said, eyeing the sky. “I always feel like something is watching me.”

“Yeah,” Shallan said. “The other day, I caught a spren swimming alongside the boat, watching me. One of those fearspren, the long eel-like ones on this side.”

“What color was it?” Vathah asked. “Was it … hers?”

“Yeah,” Shallan whispered. “I didn’t tell the others. Didn’t want them worried.”

“Smart,” Vathah said. “Well, Sja-anat is something else for me to worry about. I’ll have to double-check every storming spren now.”

“Let me know if you see anything,” Shallan said. “But don’t trouble the others, not yet. Not until we know for certain what she wants.”

Vathah nodded.

Nice work, Veil thought at her, emerging from her contemplation. That was smooth, Shallan. We’ll think of ways to push him for secrets he might be hiding later. For now, this was a good day’s work.

I hate that I’m back to acting like an apprentice, Shallan thought back. You learned all this from Tyn. Why do we need to learn it again?

We learned it, Veil thought, but we never tried it out. Remember, we … are new to this, despite what we might … might pretend.

It was hard for Veil to acknowledge that she didn’t actually have years of experience. Hard for her to admit that she was an alter—a part of Shallan’s personality, manifesting as a distinct person. But it was a good reminder. One that Radiant often brought up. They were learning, and they weren’t experts. Not yet.

Still, Shallan did know a few things about people. Though Veil wanted to move on, Shallan knelt beside Vathah. “Hey,” she said. “Whatever you did, it’s behind you. We accept you, Vathah. The Unseen Court is a family.”

“A family,”