Oathbringer (The Stormlight Archive 3)

“Probably not,” he admitted.

“And do you think, perhaps, that you could train your squire Windrunners to fly up high and scout for us? If spanreeds are proving unreliable these days, we’ll need another method of watching the enemy. I’d happily cuddle skyeels, as you offer, if your team would be willing to spend some time imitating them.”

Kaladin looked to Dalinar, who nodded appreciatively.

“Excellent,” Jasnah said. “Uncle, your coalition of monarchs is a superb idea. We need to pen the enemy in and prevent them from overrunning all of Roshar. If…”

She trailed off. Shallan paused, looking at the doodle she’d been doing. Actually, it was a bit more complex than a doodle. It was … kind of a full sketch of Kaladin’s face, with passionate eyes and a determined expression. Jasnah had noticed a creationspren in the form of a small gemstone that had appeared on the top of her page, and Shallan blushed, shooing it away.

“Perhaps,” Jasnah said, glancing at Shallan’s sketchbook, “we could do with a short break, Uncle.”

“If you wish,” he said. “I could use something to drink.”

They broke up, Dalinar and Navani chatting softly as they went to check with the guards and servants in the main hallway. Shallan watched them go with a sense of longing, as she felt Jasnah loom over her.

“Let us chat,” Jasnah said, nodding toward the far end of the long, rectangular room.

Shallan sighed, closed her notebook, and followed Jasnah to the other end, near a pattern of tiles on the wall. This far from the spheres brought for the meeting, the lighting was dim.

“May I?” Jasnah said, holding out her hand for Shallan’s notebook.

She relinquished it.

“A fine depiction of the young captain,” Jasnah said. “I see … three lines of notes here? After you were pointedly instructed to take the minutes.”

“We should have sent for a scribe.”

“We had a scribe. To take notes is not a lowly task, Shallan. It is a service you can provide.”

“If it’s not a lowly task,” Shallan said, “then perhaps you should have done it.”

Jasnah closed the sketchpad and fixed Shallan with a calm, level stare. The type that made Shallan squirm.

“I remember,” Jasnah said, “a nervous, desperate young woman. Frantic to earn my goodwill.”

Shallan didn’t reply.

“I understand,” Jasnah said, “that you have enjoyed independence. What you accomplished here is remarkable, Shallan. You even seem to have earned my uncle’s trust—a challenging task.”

“Then maybe we can just call the wardship finished, eh?” Shallan said. “I mean, I’m a full Radiant now.”

“Radiant, yes,” Jasnah said. “Full? Where’s your armor?”

“Um … armor?”

Jasnah sighed softly, opening up the sketchpad again. “Shallan,” she said in a strangely … comforting tone. “I’m impressed. I am impressed, truly. But what I’ve heard of you recently is troubling. You’ve ingratiated yourself with my family, and made good on the causal betrothal to Adolin. Yet here you are with wandering eyes, as this sketch testifies.”

“I—”

“You skip meetings that Dalinar calls,” Jasnah continued, soft but immovable. “When you do go, you sit at the back and barely pay attention. He tells me that half the time, you find an excuse to slip out early.

“You investigated the presence of an Unmade in the tower, and frightened it off basically alone. Yet you never explained how you found it when Dalinar’s soldiers could not.” She met Shallan’s eyes. “You’ve always hidden things from me. Some of those secrets were very damaging, and I find myself unwilling to believe you don’t have others.”

Shallan bit her lip, but nodded.

“That was an invitation,” Jasnah said, “to talk to me.”

Shallan nodded again. She wasn’t working with the Ghostbloods. That was Veil. And Jasnah didn’t need to know about Veil. Jasnah couldn’t know about Veil.

“Very well,” Jasnah said with a sigh. “Your wardship is not finished, and won’t be until I’m convinced that you can meet minimum requirements of scholarship—such as taking shorthand notes during an important conference. Your path as a Radiant is another matter. I don’t know that I can guide you; each order was distinctive in its approach. But as a young man will not be excused from his geography lessons simply because he has achieved competence with the sword, I will not release you from your duties to me simply because you have discovered your powers as a Radiant.”

Jasnah handed back the sketchpad and walked toward the ring of chairs. She settled next to Renarin, prodding him gently to speak with her. He looked up for the first time since the meeting had begun and nodded, saying something Shallan couldn’t hear.

“Mmmm…” Pattern said. “She is wise.”

“That’s perhaps her most infuriating feature,” Shallan said. “Storms. She makes me feel like a child.”

“Mmm.”

“Worst part is, she’s probably right,” Shallan said. “Around her, I do act more like a child. It’s like part of me wants to let her take care of everything. And I hate, hate, hate that about myself.”

“Is there a solution?”

“I don’t know.”

“Perhaps … act like an adult?”

Shallan put her hands to her face, groaning softly and rubbing her eyes with her fingers. She’d basically asked for that, hadn’t she? “Come on,” she said, “let’s go to the rest of the meeting. As much as I want an excuse to get out of here.”

“Mmm…” Pattern said. “Something about this room…”

“What?” Shallan asked.

“Something…” Pattern said in his buzzing way. “It has memories, Shallan.”

Memories. Did he mean in Shadesmar? She’d avoided traveling there—that was at least one thing in which she’d listened to Jasnah.

She made her way back to her seat, and after a moment’s thought, slipped Jasnah a quick note. Pattern says this room has memories. Worth investigating in Shadesmar?

Jasnah regarded the note, then wrote back.

I’ve found that we should not ignore the offhand comments of our spren. Press him; I will investigate this place. Thank you for the suggestion.

The meeting started again, and now turned to discussion of specific kingdoms around Roshar. Jasnah was most keen on getting the Shin to join them. The Shattered Plains held the easternmost of the Oathgates, and that was already under Alethi control. If they could gain access to the one farthest to the west, they could travel the breadth of Roshar—from the entry point of the highstorms to the entry point of the Everstorms—in a heartbeat.

They didn’t talk tactics too specifically; that was a masculine art, and Dalinar would want his highprinces and generals to discuss the battlefields. Still, Shallan didn’t fail to notice the tactical terms Jasnah used now and then.

In things like this, Shallan had difficulty understanding the woman. In some ways, Jasnah seemed fiercely masculine. She studied whatever she pleased, and she talked tactics as easily as she talked poetry. She could be aggressive, even cold—Shallan had seen her straight-up execute thieves who had tried to rob her. Beyond that … well, it probably was best not to speculate on things with no meaning, but people did talk. Jasnah had turned down every suitor for her hand, including some very attractive and influential men. People wondered. Was she perhaps simply not interested?