pool of water, but misjudged its size. He came down—about to splash into the shallow water.
But by reflex, he looked upward and Lashed himself toward the sky.
For a brief moment, Kaladin stopped falling down and fell up instead. His momentum continued forward, and he cleared the pool, then Lashed himself downward again. He landed in a trot, sweating.
I could Lash myself upward, he thought, and fall into the sky forever.
But no, that was how an ordinary person thought. A skyeel didn’t fear falling, did it? A fish didn’t fear drowning.
Until he began thinking in a new way, he wouldn’t control this gift he had been given. And it was a gift. He would embrace this.
The sky was now his.
Kaladin shouted, dashing forward. He leaped and Lashed himself to the wall. No pausing, no hesitance, no fear. He hit at a dead run, and nearby, Syl laughed for joy.
But that, that was simple. Kaladin jumped off the wall and looked directly above him at the opposite wall. He Lashed himself in that direction, and flung his body into a flip. He landed, going down on one knee upon what had been the ceiling to him a moment before.
“You did it!” Syl said, flitting around him. “What changed?”
“I did.”
“Well, yeah, but what about you?” Syl asked.
“Everything.”
She frowned at him. He grinned back, then took off at a run along the side of the chasm.
* * *
Shallan strode down the mansion’s back steps to the kitchen, thumping each foot down harder than it would normally fall, trying to imitate being heavier than she was. The cook looked up from her novel and dropped it in a wide-eyed panic, moving to stand. “Brightlord!”
“Remain seated,” Shallan mouthed, scratching at her face to mask her lips. Pattern spoke the words she’d told him to say in a perfect imitation of Amaram’s voice.
The cook remained seated, as ordered. Hopefully, from that position, she wouldn’t notice that Amaram was shorter than he should be. Even walking on her tiptoes—which was masked by the illusion—she was much shorter than the highprince.
“You spoke to the maid Telesh earlier,” Pattern said as Shallan mouthed the words.
“Yes, Brightlord,” the cook said, speaking softly to match Pattern’s tone of voice. “I sent her off to work with Stine for the evening. I thought the girl needed a little direction.”
“No,” Pattern said. “Her return was at my command. I have sent her out again, and told her not to speak of what happened tonight.”
The cook frowned. “What . . . happened tonight?”
“You are not to speak of this event. You interfered with something that is not of your concern. Pretend you did not see Telesh. Never speak of this event to me. If you do, I will pretend none of this happened. Do you understand?”
The cook grew pale, and nodded her head, sinking down in her chair.
Shallan nodded to her curtly, then walked from the kitchens out into the night. There, she ducked to the side of the building, heart pounding. A grin formed on her face anyway.
Out of sight, she exhaled Stormlight in a cloud, then stepped forward. As she passed through it, the image of Amaram vanished, replaced by that of the messenger boy she’d been imitating before. She scrambled back to the front of the building and sat down on the steps, slumping and leaning with her head on her hand.
Amaram and Hav walked up through the night, speaking softly. “. . . I didn’t notice that the girl had seen me talking to the messenger, Highlord,” Hav was saying. “She must have realized . . .” He trailed off as they saw Shallan.
She hopped to her feet and bowed to Amaram.
“It’s no matter now, Hav,” Amaram said, waving the soldier back to his rounds.
“Highlord,” Shallan said. “I bring you a message.”
“Obviously, darkborn,” the man said, stepping up to her. “What does he want?”
“He?” Shallan asked. “This is from Shallan Davar.”
Amaram cocked his head. “Who?”
“Betrothed of Adolin Kholin,” she said. “She is trying to update the accounting of all of the Shardblades in Alethkar with pictures. She would like to schedule a time to come and do a sketch of yours, if you are willing.”
“Oh,” Amaram said. He seemed to relax. “Yes, well, that would be fine. I am free most afternoons. Have her send someone to speak with my steward to arrange a meeting.”
“Yes, Highlord. I’ll see that it is done.” Shallan moved to leave.
“You came this late?” Amaram asked. “To ask such a simple question.”
Shallan shrugged. “I don’t question