Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive #4) - Brandon Sanderson Page 0,406

of Gods.”

“Creator of the Oathpact,” Shalash said, forcing herself out of Dalinar’s grip. “Yes, yes. We all have names like that. Useless names. You should stop talking about us. Stop worshipping us. Stop painting us.”

“He’s still alive,” Dalinar said. “He was unchained by the oaths. He would understand what I can learn to do.”

“I’m sure,” Shalash said. “If any—except me—are still sane, it would be him.”

“He’s near here,” Dalinar said, in awe. “In Tukar. Not more than a short flight southeast of this very town.”

“Isn’t there an army in the way?” Shalash said. “Isn’t pushing the enemy back—crushing them into Ishar’s army—our main goal right now?”

“That’s what Jasnah and our army are doing,” Dalinar said. “But I have another task. I need to find a way to speak to the god-priest, then convince him to help me rescue Urithiru.”

Intent matters. Intent is king. You cannot do what I attempt by accident. You must mean it. This seems a much greater law than we’ve ever before understood.

—From Rhythm of War, endnotes

Navani sat quietly in her cell of a library room, waiting. Hours passed. She requested food and was given it, but neither the guard nor the Deepest One watching her answered when she asked questions. So she waited. Too nervous to study. Too sick to her stomach to dare try speaking to the Sibling.

After all her assurances and promises, Navani had proven untrustworthy after all.

Raboniel finally arrived, wearing a simple outfit of trousers, a blouse, and a Thaylen vest. She’d previously said she found their designs fascinating. She’d chosen traditionally male clothing, but likely didn’t mind the distinction.

The Lady of Wishes observed Navani from the doorway, then shooed the guards away. Navani gritted her teeth, then stood up and bowed. She’d been hurt, outmatched, and defeated. But she couldn’t let anger and humiliation rule. She needed information.

“You didn’t persist in trying to contact me,” Raboniel said. “I assume you realized what had happened.”

“How long were you listening in on my conversations with the Sibling, Ancient One?” Navani said.

“Always,” Raboniel said. “When I could not be listening in, I had another Fused doing it.”

Navani closed her eyes. I gave them the secret to the third node. I pried it out of the Sibling, walking directly into the enemy’s plan.

“You shouldn’t be too hard on yourself,” Raboniel said. “The Sibling is truly to blame—they always have been so innocent. And unaware of their own naiveness. When I touched the pillar, I knew the Sibling was awake—but pretending to be dead. So I let the ruse continue, and I listened. I couldn’t know that decision would bear fruit, but that is why you nurture nine seeds and watch for the one that begins growing.”

“The Sibling told me…” Navani said. “They said we couldn’t outthink you.”

“Yes, I heard that,” Raboniel said. “It made me worry that you’d spotted my surveillance. It seemed too obvious a line said to distract me.”

“How?” Navani asked, opening her eyes. “How did you do it, Ancient One? Surely the Sibling would have known if their communication could be compromised.”

Raboniel hummed a rhythm, then walked over and tapped Navani’s stacks of notes. “Study. Find us answers about Light, Navani. Stop trying to fight me; help me end this war instead. That was always your purpose here.”

Navani felt nausea stirring her insides. She’d thrown up once already from the sick feeling of what she’d done. What she’d cost the Sibling. She forced it down this time, and as Raboniel left, she managed to ask one more question.

“Kaladin,” she said. “The Windrunner. Did you kill him, Ancient One?”

“I didn’t,” she said. “Though I did land a fine cut on him. You have likely realized that he succeeded in destroying the node, as the shield is still up. However, when the Windrunner was spotted fleeing the tower a good half hour after, his wound hadn’t healed—so I think the Sibling’s transformation is almost complete. This makes your Windrunner’s powers quite unreliable. I find it unlikely he survived after running out into the storm.”

“Into the storm?” Navani asked.

“Yes. A pity. Perhaps the Sibling can tell you if he is dead or not—if so, I should very much like to study his corpse.”

Raboniel left. Navani pushed through her sickness to write, then burn, a prayer of protection for Kaladin. It was all she could do.

Then she rested her head on the table to think about the profound scope of her failure.

THE END OF

Part Three

Szeth-son-Honor tried to slouch.

Dalinar said that slouching a little would help him imitate