Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive #4) - Brandon Sanderson Page 0,353

to build something separate from his rule, a people I could … I don’t know, use to start a new group of listeners.”

Trying, in her own pitiful way, to undo what she’d done.

“How many?” Rlain asked, to Excitement.

“A dozen so far,” Venli said. “I have them watching over the fallen Radiants. I have some authority in the tower, but I don’t know how far it will extend. It’s complicated. The various Fused have different motivations, and I’m wrapped up in the threads of it all. I helped save some humans who were going to be executed—but I’m not interested in allying with them in general.”

“Who did you save? The queen?”

“No, someone far less important,” Venli said. “A surgeon and his wife, who were—”

“Lirin and Hesina?” he asked to Excitement. “The child too, I hope.”

“Yes. How did you—”

“You need to get me out, Venli,” Rlain said. “And get me to Hesina. I have something useful I could show her—and you, if you want to help.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you,” Venli whispered, glancing over her shoulder at the door. “I have some authority, but there are many who distrust me. I don’t know if I can get you free. It might draw too much attention to me.”

“Venli,” he said to Confidence, “look at me.”

She met his gaze. Had he always been this intense? Eshonai had known him better than she had.

“You need to do this,” Rlain said to her. “You need to use whatever influence you have and get me out.”

“I don’t know if—”

“Stop being so insufferably selfish! Do something against your own self-interest, for the greater good, for once in your storming life, Venli.”

She hummed to Betrayal. She didn’t deserve that. She’d just told him how she was trying to rebuild the listeners. But he hummed louder to Confidence, so she aligned her rhythm to his.

“I’ll try,” she said.

* * *

Though Raboniel often spent her time down near the crystal pillar—or with the human scholars in the chambers nearby—the Lady of Wishes had indicated she would be about other duties today. By asking around, Venli found that she was for some reason at the Blackthorn’s former rooms.

Venli stepped inside, where an unusual number of Fused had gathered and were systematically going through the warlord’s belongings—cataloguing them, making notations about them, and packing them away. Venli passed through and saw one crate contained socks: each pair recorded and carefully stored.

They were putting all of his things into storage, but why had they dedicated Fused to such a mundane job? What was more, these were important Fused, none of the more erratic or crazy represented. Leshwi herself had been pressed into the work, and that all together whispered something meaningful: Someone very high up in the singer hierarchy was interested in this man. To the point of wanting to dissect and understand his each and every possession, no matter how ordinary.

Venli moved around the perimeter of the room, careful to stay away from the broad doors or windows leading to the balcony. Those had been draped off, but the rules were strict during daylight hours. No singers were to show themselves outside, lest they accidentally reveal the truth to Windrunner scouts.

She found two humans she didn’t recognize at the doorway into the bedroom, watching what occurred inside. There, Raboniel was speaking to a third human. The tall male was dressed in a coat and trousers that seemed elegant to Venli’s eyes—though she knew little of their fashion. More striking was the strange creature on his shoulder, an odd thing unlike any Venli had ever seen. It stood on two legs like a person, though its face ended in a beak and it had brightly colored scales that looked soft, of all things. When she entered, it turned and stared at her, and she was unnerved by how bright and intelligent its eyes seemed.

The Lady of Wishes sat in a chair by the bed, her face passive, with stacks of papers and books beside her.

Who was this man, and why would Raboniel pause her research to give him an audience? The Lady normally ignored requests from humans, going so far as to have several “important” ones flogged when they demanded audiences. More curious, as Venli edged around the side of the room, she saw that the man’s face was scarred in several places, bespeaking a roughness in contrast to his fine clothing.

“The only thing I find remarkable,” Raboniel said to Derision, “is how audacious you are, human. Do you not understand how easily