hardly a logical conclusion,” Inadara said, joining the two of them as soldiers and bridgemen crossed to the empty plateau. “A portal of this nature would be kept hidden; it would not be deviant.”
“The Oathgates were not hidden,” Shallan said. “That is beside the point, however. This plateau is a circle.”
“Many are circular.”
“Not this circular,” Shallan said, striding forward. Now that she was here, she could see just how irregularly . . . well, regular the plateau was. “I was looking for a dais on a plateau, but didn’t realize the scale of what I was searching for. This entire plateau is the dais upon which the Oathgate sat.
“Don’t you see? The other plateaus were created by some kind of disaster—they are jagged, broken. This place is not. That’s because it was already here when the shattering happened. On the old maps it was a raised section, like a giant pedestal. When the Plains were broken, it remained this way.”
“Yes . . .” Renarin said, nodding. “Imagine a plate with a circle etched into the center . . . if a force shattered the plate, it might break along the already weakened lines.”
“Leaving you with a bunch of irregular pieces,” Shallan agreed, “and one shaped like a circle.”
“Perhaps,” Inadara said. “But I find it odd that something so tactically important would be exposed.”
“The Oathgates were a symbol,” Shallan said, continuing to walk. “The Vorin Right of Travel, given to all citizens of sufficient rank, is based on the Heralds’ declaration that all borders should be open. If you were going to create a symbol of that unity—a portal that connected all of the Silver Kingdoms together—where would you put it? Hidden in a locked room? Or on a stage that rose above the city? It was out here because they were proud of it.”
They continued through the blowing rain. There was a hallowed quality to this place, and honestly, that was part of how she knew she was right.
“Mmmm,” Pattern said softly. “They are raising a storm.”
“The Voidspren?” Shallan whispered.
“The bonded ones. They craft a storm.”
Right. Her task was urgent; she didn’t have time to stand around thinking. She was about to order the search begun, but paused as she noticed Renarin staring westward, his eyes distant.
“Prince Renarin?” she asked.
“The wrong way,” he whispered. “The wind is blowing from the wrong direction. West to east . . . Oh, Almighty above. It’s terrible.”
She followed his gaze, but could see nothing.
“It’s actually real,” Renarin said. “The Everstorm.”
“What are you talking about?” Shallan asked, feeling a chill at the tone of his voice.
“I . . .” He looked to her and wiped the water from his eyes, gauntlet hanging from his waist. “I should be with my father. I should be able to fight. Only I’m useless.”
Great. He was creepy and whiny. “Well, your father ordered you to help me, so deal with your issues. Everyone, let’s search this place.”
“What are we looking for, cousin?” asked Rock, one of the bridgemen.
Cousin, she thought. Cute. Because of the red hair. “I don’t know,” she said. “Anything strange, out of the ordinary.”
They split up and spread out across the plateau. Along with Inadara, Shallan had a small group of ardents and scholars to help her, including one of Dalinar’s stormwardens. She sent teams of several scholars, one bridgeman, and one soldier each in different directions.
Renarin and the majority of the bridgemen insisted on going with her. She couldn’t complain about that—this was a war zone. Shallan passed a lump on the ground, part of a large ring. Perhaps once a low ornamental wall. How would this place have looked? She pictured it in her mind, and wished she could have drawn it. That would certainly have helped her visualize.
Where would the portal be? Most likely at the center, so that was the direction she went. There she found a large stone mound.
“This is all?” Rock asked. “He is just more rock.”
“That is exactly what I was hoping to find,” Shallan said. “Anything exposed to the air would have weathered away or become immured with crem. If we’re to discover anything useful, it will have to be inside.”
“Inside?” asked one of the bridgemen. “Inside what?”
“The buildings,” Shallan said, feeling at the wall until she found a ripple in the back of the rock. She turned to Renarin. “Prince Renarin, would you kindly slay this rock for me?”
* * *
Adolin raised his sphere in the dark chamber, shining light on the wall. After so long outdoors