Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive #4) - Brandon Sanderson Page 0,433

asked. “What do you need?”

“I heard a report that you are holding one of the thinking parshmen here,” the newcomer said. “Is this her?”

“Yes,” the guardsman said. “But—”

“I request,” the man said, “to have this prisoner released into my care.”

“I don’t think I can do that, Ambassador,” the guardsman said, glancing at the scribes for confirmation. “You … I mean, that is a very unusual request.”

“This femalen is important to this night’s activities,” the man said. He stepped forward, placing something on the nearest scribe’s desk. “This is a seal of deputation. I have legal jurisdiction in this land, as granted by your king. You will authenticate it.”

“I’m not sure…” the scribe woman said.

“You will authenticate it,” the man repeated. Perfectly void of emotion or rhythm. He made Venli feel cold. Particularly as he turned toward her.

Behind him, the scribes began scribbling with their spanreeds. The newcomer blocked most of Venli’s view of them.

“Hello, Ulim,” the man said in a soft, steady voice.

“Um … hello, Nale,” the spren said. “I … um. I didn’t expect to see you here. Um, today. Anytime, actually … Ever … How is, ah, Shalash?”

“Small talk is unnecessary, Ulim,” Nale said. “We are not friends. You persist only because I cannot destroy spren.” The strange man affixed his unblinking gaze on Venli. “Listener. Do you know what this is?”

“Just another spren,” she said.

“You are wise,” Nale said. “He is just another spren, isn’t he? How long have you known him?”

Venli didn’t reply—and she saw Ulim pulse to Satisfaction. He did not want her speaking.

“Brightlord,” one of the scribes called. “It appears you are correct. You may requisition this prisoner. We were simply going to hold her until—”

“Thank you,” Nale said, taking his seal from the scribe, then walked out into the hall. “Follow, listener.”

Ulim hopped onto her shoulder and grabbed hold of her hair. “Go ahead,” he whispered. “But don’t tell him anything. I am in so much trouble.…”

Venli followed the strange man from the guard room. She’d never seen a human that shade before, though it wasn’t a true onyx like a listener pattern. This was more the color of a rockbud shell.

“How many are there?” Nale asked her. “Spren like him? How many have returned?”

“We—” Ulim began.

“I would hear the listener,” Nale said.

She’d rarely known Ulim to be quiet, and he rarely did as she asked. At this man’s rebuke, however, Ulim fell immediately silent. Ulim was frightened of this being. So did that mean the songs about them were true?

A Herald. Alive.

Ulim was right. The Return had begun. The humans would soon be marching to destroy her people. It was the only conclusion she could come to, based on her knowledge of the songs. And based on meeting this man.

Storms. Her people needed forms of power.

And to get them, she somehow had to navigate this conversation without being murdered by this creature.

“Answer my question,” the Herald said. “How many spren like him are there? How many Voidspren have returned?”

“I have seen only this one,” Venli said.

“It is impossible that he has remained on Roshar all these years,” Nale said. “It has been … a long time, I believe. Generations perhaps, since the last true Desolation?”

How could this creature not remember how long it had been since the Returns ended? Perhaps he was so far above mortals that he didn’t measure time the same way.

“I thought it impossible for them to cross the distance between worlds,” Nale said. “Could it have been … No. Impossible. I’ve been vigilant. I’ve been careful. You must tell me! How did you accomplish his return?”

So cold. A voice with no rhythms, and no human emotions. Yet those words … He was raving. Perhaps it wasn’t that he measured time differently, but that he was addled? Though she’d been considering telling him the truth, that instinct retreated before his dead words.

She might not trust Ulim completely, but she certainly couldn’t turn to this Herald instead.

“We didn’t do anything to return them,” she said, taking a gamble based on what he’d said earlier. “It was what you did.”

“Impossible,” Nale repeated. “Ishar said only a Connection between the worlds could cause a bridge to open. And Taln has not given in. I would know if he had.…”

“Do not blame us,” Venli said, “for your failure.”

Nale kept his eyes forward. “So, Gavilar’s plan is working. The fool. He will destroy us all.” Nale sneered, a sudden and unexpected burst of emotion. “That foolish idiot of a man. He lures us with