take shots at me?”
The spren smiled. And Adolin realized what he’d done. By asking a question, Adolin had invited an answer.
“I think,” the spren said, standing up, “that the most relevant question is if these new Radiants can be trusted. That’s what you need to prove. The Stormfather told us that Dalinar Kholin forced him to physically manifest. Dalinar Kholin, your father, using the Stormfather’s essence to work one of the Oathgates!”
“That’s against his oath!” another one exclaimed. “Did you know about your father’s actions?”
“I’m sure he had good reasons,” Adolin said. “If you would—”
“Good reasons?” the standing honorspren said. “He was running away. Does this seem like the kind of behavior we should trust in a Bondsmith? From the man you said was ideal, that you promised would never betray us. How do you respond to this?”
Adolin looked to Kelek. “Can I please continue my witness?”
“You invited this discussion, son,” Kelek said. “You need to engage him now.” Kelek nodded toward the crowd at the top of the forum. Those who had joined with Notum yesterday waited quietly, wanting answers.
Adolin sighed, glancing to Shallan for strength before continuing. “I cannot speak for my father. You’ll have to ask him. I trust him; the Stormfather trusts him; that should be enough.”
“He is a walking disaster,” the spren said. “He is a murderer by his own testimony. This is no Bondsmith.”
Adolin ignored that, as it wasn’t a question. And theoretically, he could let this subject die and continue.
“Jasnah’s letter,” he began, “is—”
“Kaladin Stormblessed almost killed his spren too,” a completely different honorspren said. “The Ancient Daughter, most precious of children. Did you know that?”
Adolin ground his teeth. “I do know what happened between Kaladin and Syl. It was a difficult time for all of us, a point of transition. Kaladin didn’t know he was breaking his oaths—he was merely having a difficult time navigating conflicting loyalties.”
“So you’re ignorant and dangerous,” the spren in the second row said. “Your Radiants barely know what they’re doing! You could kill your spren by accident!”
Kelek waved, and the spren was grabbed by attendants and carried up and out of the forum. But Adolin saw this for what it was. A coordinated attack, and the ejection a calculated risk to get the words out.
“We’re not killing our spren,” Adolin said to the crowd. “These incidents are isolated, and we don’t have proper context to discuss them.”
“Is that so?” yet another honorspren said. “You can swear that none of your Radiants have killed their spren?”
“Yes! None of them have. They…” He trailed off.
Damnation. He’d met one, hadn’t he? Killed recently—that Cryptic in the market.
“They what?” the spren demanded.
If he answered the question truthfully, it could be the end. Adolin took a deep breath, and did what Blended had warned him against. He engaged the audience. “I could answer, but you don’t care, do you? You obviously planned together how to attack me today. This is an ambush. You don’t care about honor, and you don’t care what I have to say. You simply want to throw things at me.”
He stepped forward and lifted his hands to the sides. “All right. Go ahead! But know this! You say that spren don’t lie, that spren are not changeable like men? Next time you try to pretend that is true, remember this day! Remember how you lied when you said I’d have a fair trial. Remember how you treated the man who came to you in good faith!”
The crowd fell silent. Even his most vocal challengers sat.
“You were warned about this trial multiple times, human,” Kelek said from behind. “They have made their choice.”
“Not all of them,” Adolin said. “I thought I’d find rational people inside these gates. Honorable spren. But you know what? I’m happy I didn’t. Because now I know you for what you are. You’re people, like any of us. Some of you are scared. It makes you afraid to commit. It makes you consider things you would once have thought irrational.
“I understand that. I am glad to find you are like humans, because I know what it means. It means you question—that you’re afraid, you’re uncertain. Believe me, I feel these things too. But you can’t sit here and pretend that all humans are the same, that all humans deserve to be thrown away, when you yourselves are as flawed as we are. This trial proves it. Your hearts prove it.”
He stared out at them. Daring them. Challenging them.
Finally, looking uncomfortable, the spren in the first