them?”
“Those and more, bright one,” Kadash whispered, face drained of color. “I spoke with some of the soldiers who survived that first terrible night when the old king was killed. I thought the things they claimed to have seen the result of trauma—”
“I need to know,” Adolin said. “Look into it. Read. Tell me what this creature might be capable of doing. We have to know how to fight him. He will return.”
“Yes,” Kadash said, visibly shaken. “But . . . Adolin? If what you say is true . . . Storms! It could mean the Radiants are not dead.”
“I know.”
“Almighty preserve us,” Kadash whispered.
* * *
Navani Kholin loved warcamps. In ordinary cities, everything was so messy. Shops where they hardly belonged, streets that refused to run in straight lines.
Military men and women, however, valued order and rationality—at least, the better ones did. Their camps reflected that. Barracks in neat rows, shops confined to marketplaces, as opposed to popping up on every corner. From her vantage atop her observation tower, she could see much of Dalinar’s camp. So neat, so intentional.
This was the mark of humankind: to take the wild, unorganized world and make something logical of it. You could get so much more done when everything was in its place, when you could easily find what or whom you needed. Creativity required such things.
Careful planning was, indeed, the water that nourished innovation.
She took in a deep breath and turned back toward the engineering grounds, which dominated the eastern section of Dalinar’s warcamp. “All right, everyone!” she called. “Let’s give it a try!” This test had been planned long before the assassin’s attack, and she’d decided to proceed. What else was she going to do? Sit around and worry?
The grounds below became a buzz of activity. Her elevated observation platform was perhaps twenty-five feet high, and gave her a good view of the engineering grounds. She was flanked by a dozen different ardents and scholars—and even Matain and a few other stormwardens. She still wasn’t sure what she thought of those fellows—they spent too much time talking about numerology and reading the winds. They called it a science in an attempt to dodge Vorin prohibitions of predicting the future.
They had offered some useful wisdom from time to time. She’d invited them for that reason—and because she wanted to keep an eye on them.
The object of her attention, and the subject of today’s test, was a large circular platform at the center of the engineering yards. The wooden structure looked like the top of a siege tower that had been cut off and laid on the ground. Crenellations ringed it, and they’d set up dummies at those, the kinds that the soldiers used for archery practice. Next to that grounded platform was a tall wooden tower with a latticework of scaffolding up the sides. Workers scuttled over it, checking that everything was operational.
“You really should read this, Navani,” Rushu said, looking over a report. The young woman was an ardent, and had no right whatsoever to have such lush eyelashes or delicate features. Rushu had joined the ardentia to escape the advances of men. A silly choice, judging by the way male ardents always wanted to work with her. Fortunately, she was also brilliant. And Navani could always find a use for someone brilliant.
“I’ll read it later,” Navani said in a gently chiding voice. “We have work to do now, Rushu.”
“. . . changed even when he was in the other room,” Rushu mumbled, flipping to another page. “Repeatable and measurable. Only flamespren so far, but so many potential other applications . . .”
“Rushu,” Navani said, a little more firmly this time. “The test?”
“Oh! Sorry, Brightness.” The woman tucked the folded pages into a pocket of her robes. Then she ran her hand across her shaved head, frowning. “Navani, have you ever wondered why the Almighty gave beards to men, but not women? For that matter, why do we consider it feminine for a woman to have long hair? Should not more hair be a masculine trait? Many of them have quite a lot of it, you see.”
“Focus, child,” Navani said. “I want you watching when the test happens.” She turned to the others. “That goes for all of you. If this thing crashes to the ground again, I don’t want to lose another week attempting to figure out what went wrong!”
The others nodded, and Navani found herself growing excited, some of the tension from the night’s attack finally bleeding away.