Words of Radiance (The Stormlight Archive 2)

“They must have an interesting life cycle. They haunt these chasms, but I doubt they actually live here. There’s not enough food to support creatures of their size. That means they come here as part of some migratory pattern. They come here to pupate. Have you ever seen a juvenile? Before they form the chrysalis?”

“No,” Adolin said, scooting his chair around the table. “It often happens at night, and we don’t spot them until morning. They’re hard to see out there, colored like rock. Makes me think that the Parshendi must be watching us. We end up fighting over plateaus so often. It might mean they spot us mobilizing, then use the direction we’re going to judge where to find the chrysalis. We get a head start, but they move faster over the Plains, so we arrive near the same time…”

He trailed off, cocking his head to get a better look at her sketch. “Storms! That’s really good, Shallan.”

“Thanks.”

“No, I mean really good.”

She’d done a quick sketch of several types of chrysalises she had read about in her books, along with quick depictions of a man beside them for size reference. It wasn’t very good—she’d done it for speed. Yet Adolin seemed genuinely impressed.

“The shape and texture of the chrysalis,” Shallan said, “could help place the chasmfiends in a family of similar animals.”

“It looks most like this one,” Adolin said, scooting closer and pointing at one of the sketches. “When I’ve touched one, they’ve been hard as rock. It’s hard to dig into one without a Shardblade. It can take men with hammers forever to break into one.”

“Hmmm,” Shallan said, making a note. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah. That’s how they look. Why?”

“That’s the chrysalis of a yu-nerig,” Shallan said. “A greatshell from the seas around Marabethia. The people there feed criminals to them, I’m told.”

“Ouch.”

“This might be a false positive, a coincidence. The yu-nerig are an aquatic species. The only time they come onto land is to pupate. Seems tenuous to assume a relationship to the chasmfiends…”

“Sure,” Adolin said, taking a drink of wine. “If you say so.”

“This is probably important,” Shallan said.

“For research. Yeah, I know. Aunt Navani is always talking about things like that.”

“This could be of more practical import than that,” Shallan said. “About how many of these things total are killed by your armies and the Parshendi each month?”

Adolin shrugged. “One every three days or so, I’d guess. Sometimes more, sometimes less. So… fifteen or so a month?”

“You see the problem?”

“I…” Adolin shook his head. “No. Sorry. I’m kind of useless at anything that doesn’t involve someone getting stabbed.”

She smiled at him. “Nonsense. You proved skilled at choosing wine.”

“I did that basically at random.”

“And it tastes delicious,” Shallan said. “Empirical proof of your methodology. Now, you probably don’t see the problem because you don’t have the proper facts. Greatshells, generally, are slow to breed and slow to grow. This is because most ecosystems can only support a small population of apex predators of this size.”

“I’ve heard some of those words before.”

She looked to him, raising an eyebrow. He’d gotten a lot closer to her, in order to look at her drawing. He wore a faint cologne, a brisk woody scent. Oh my…

“All right, all right,” he said, chuckling as he inspected her drawings. “I’m not as dense as I feign. I see what you’re saying. You really think we could kill enough of them that it could be a problem? I mean, people have been doing greatshell hunts for generations, and the beasts are still around.”

“You’re not hunting them here, Adolin. You’re harvesting them. You’re systematically destroying their juvenile population. Have fewer of them been pupating lately?”

“Yeah,” he said, though he sounded reluctant. “We think it might be the season.”

“It might be. Or, it might be that, after over five years of harvesting, the population is starting to dwindle. Animals like the chasmfiends don’t normally have predators. Suddenly losing a hundred and fifty or more of their numbers a year could be catastrophic to their population.”

Adolin frowned. “The gemhearts we get feed the people of the warcamps. Without a constant flow of new stones of reasonable size, the Soulcasters will eventually crack the ones we have, and we won’t be able to support the armies here.”

“I’m not telling you to stop your hunts,” Shallan said, blushing. This probably wasn’t the point she should be making. Urithiru and the parshmen, that was the immediate problem. Still, she needed to gain Adolin’s trust. If she could provide useful help regarding the chasmfiends, perhaps he’d listen when she approached him with something even more revolutionary.

“All I’m saying,” Shallan continued, “is that it’s worth thinking about and studying. What would it be like if you could start raising chasmfiends, growing them to juveniles in batches like men raise chulls? Instead of hunting three a week, what if you could breed and harvest hundreds?”

“That would be useful,” Adolin said thoughtfully. “What would you need in order to make it happen?”

“Well, I wasn’t saying… I mean…” She stopped herself. “I need to get out onto the Shattered Plains,” she said more firmly. “If I’m going to try to figure out how to breed them, I’d need to see one of these chrysalises before it’s been cut into. Preferably, I get to see an adult chasmfiend, and—ideally—I’d like a captured juvenile to study.”

“Just a small list of impossibilities.”

“Well, you did ask.”

“I might be able to get you onto the Plains,” Adolin said. “Father promised that he’d show Jasnah a dead chasmfiend, so I think he was planning to take her out after a hunt. Seeing a chrysalis, though… those rarely appear close to camp. I’d have to take you dangerously close to Parshendi territory.”

“I’m sure you can protect me.”

He looked at her, expectant.

“What?” Shallan asked.

“I’m waiting for a wisecrack.”

“I was serious,” Shallan said. “With you there, I’m certain the Parshendi wouldn’t dare get close.”

Adolin smiled.

“I mean,” she said, “the stench alone—”

“I suspect I’m never going to live down telling you about that.”

“Never,” Shallan agreed. “You were honest, detailed, and engaging. Those aren’t the sorts of things I let myself forget about a man.”

His smile broadened. Storms, those eyes…

Careful, Shallan told herself. Careful! Kabsal took you in easily. Don’t repeat that.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Adolin said. “The Parshendi might not be an issue in the near future.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “It’s not widely known, though we’ve told the highprinces. Father is going to be meeting with some of the Parshendi leaders tomorrow. It could end up starting a peace negotiation.”