nearly so small. Still, this was a fraction of their original numbers.
Her soldiers seated them all, prepared messengers to deliver her words to those not near enough to hear. As she waited for the preparations, she listened to reports regarding the population. Surprisingly, the majority of those who had dissented were workers. They were supposed to be obedient. Well, the greater number of them were elderly, the ones who had not fought in the war against the Alethi. Those who had not been forced to watch their friends be killed.
She waited by the base of the pillar until everything was ready. She climbed the steps to begin her speech, but stopped as she noticed Varanis, one of her lieutenants, running toward her. He was one she had chosen for stormform.
Suddenly alert, Eshonai attuned the Rhythm of Destruction.
“General,” he said to Anxiety. “They’ve escaped!”
“Who?”
“The ones you had us set apart, the ones who did not want to transform. They’ve fled.”
“Well, chase them down,” Eshonai said to Spite. “They can’t get far. The workers won’t be able to jump chasms; they can only go as far as the bridges allow.”
“General! They cut down one of the bridges, then used the ropes to climb down into the chasm itself. They’ve fled through those.”
“Then they’re dead anyway,” Eshonai said. “There is a storm in two days. They’ll be caught in the chasms and killed. Ignore them.”
“What of their guards?” Venli demanded to Spite, shoving her way up beside Eshonai. “Why weren’t they being watched?”
“The guards went with them,” Varanis said. “Eshonai, Thude was leading those—”
“No matter,” Eshonai said. “You are dismissed.”
Varanis retreated.
“You aren’t surprised,” Venli said to Destruction. “Who are these guards that are willing to help their prisoners escape? What have you done, Eshonai?”
“Do not challenge me.”
“I—”
“Do not challenge me,” Eshonai said, grabbing her sister by the neck with a gauntleted hand.
“Kill me, and you’ll ruin everything,” Venli said, not a hint of fear in her voice. “They’ll never follow a woman who murdered her own sister in public, and only I can provide the spren you need for this transformation.”
Eshonai hummed to the Rhythm of Derision, but let go. “I’m going to make my speech.” She turned her back on Venli and stepped up to address the people.
I’ll address this letter to my “old friend,” as I have no idea what name you’re using currently.
Kaladin had never been in prison before.
Cages, yes. Pits. Pens. Under guard in a room. Never a proper prison.
Perhaps that was because prisons were too nice. He had two blankets, a pillow, and a chamber pot that was changed regularly. They fed him far better than he’d ever been fed as a slave. The stone shelf wasn’t the most comfortable bed, but with the blankets, it wasn’t too bad. He didn’t have any windows, but at least he wasn’t out in the storms.
All in all, the room was very nice. And he hated it.
In the past, the only times he’d been stuck in a small space had been to weather a highstorm. Now, being enclosed here for hours on end, with nothing to do but lie on his back and think . . . Now he found himself restless, sweating, missing the open spaces. Missing the wind. The solitude didn’t bother him. Those walls, though. They felt like they were crushing him.
On the third day of his imprisonment, he heard a disturbance from farther inside the prison, beyond his chamber. He stood up, ignoring Syl, who sat on an invisible bench on his wall. What was that shouting? It echoed in from the hallway.
His little cell was in its own room. The only people he’d seen since being locked up were the guards and the servants. Spheres glowed on the walls, keeping the place well lit. Spheres in a room meant for criminals. Were they there to taunt the men locked away? Riches just beyond reach.
He pressed against the cold bars, listening to the indistinct shouts. He imagined Bridge Four having come to break him out. Stormfather send they didn’t try something so foolish.
He eyed one of the spheres in its setting on the wall.
“What?” Syl asked him.
“I might be able to get close enough to suck that Light out. It’s only a little farther than the Parshendi were when I drew the Light from their gemstones.”
“Then what?” Syl asked, voice small.
Good question. “Would you help me break out, if I wanted to?”
“Do you want to?”
“I’m not sure.” He turned around, still standing, and rested his back against