Oathbringer (The Stormlight Archive 3)

Rysn pulled herself to a row of gemstone racks. Behind her, the thief took a second crossbow bolt, but didn’t seem to notice. How …

The thief stepped over and picked up poor Tlik’s crossbow. Footsteps and calls indicated that several guards from the lower level had heard Fladm, and were coming up the steps. The thief fired the crossbow once down a nearby row, and a shout of pain from Fladm indicated it had connected. Another guardsman arrived a second later and attacked the thief with his sword.

He should have run for help! Rysn thought as she huddled by the shelf. The thief took a cut along the face from the sword, then set his prize down and caught the guard’s arm. The two struggled, and Rysn watched the cut on the thief’s face reknit.

He was healing? Could … could this man be a Knight Radiant?

Rysn’s eyes flicked toward the large ruby the thief had set down. Four more guards joined the fight, obviously assuming they could subdue one man on their own.

Sit back. Let them handle it.

Chiri-Chiri suddenly darted past, ignoring the combatants and making for the glowing gemstone. Rysn lunged forward—well, more flopped forward—to grab at the larkin, but missed. Chiri-Chiri landed on the cloth containing the enormous ruby.

Nearby, the thief stabbed one of the guards. Rysn winced at the awful sight of their struggle, lit by the ruby, then crawled forward—dragging her legs—and snatched the gemstone.

Chiri-Chiri clicked at her in annoyance as Rysn dragged the ruby with her around the corner. Another guard screamed. They were dropping quickly.

Have to do something. Can’t just sit here, can I?

Rysn clutched the gemstone and looked down the row between shelves. An impossible distance, hundreds of feet, to the corridor and the exit. The door was locked, but she could call through the communication slot for help.

But why? If five guards couldn’t handle the thief, what could one crippled woman do?

My babsk is locked in the queen’s vault. Bleeding.

She looked down the long row again, then used the cord Vstim had given her to tie the ruby’s cloth closed around it, and attached it to her ankle so she wouldn’t have to carry it. Then she started pulling herself along the shelves. Chiri-Chiri rode behind on the ruby, and its light dimmed. Everyone else was struggling for their lives, but the little larkin was feasting.

Rysn made faster progress than she had expected to, though soon her arms began to ache. Behind, the fighting stilled, the last guard’s shout cutting off.

Rysn redoubled her efforts, pulling herself along toward the exit, reaching the alcove where they’d left her chair. Here, she found blood.

Fladm lay at the threshold of the entry corridor, a bolt in him, his own crossbow on the floor beside him. Rysn collapsed a couple of feet from him, muscles burning. Spheres on his belt illuminated her chair and the steps down to the lower vault level. No more help would be coming from down there.

Past Fladm’s body, the corridor led to the door out. “Help!” she shouted. “Thief!”

She thought she heard voices on the other side, through the communication slot. But … it would take the guards outside time to get it open, as they didn’t know all three codes. Maybe that was good. The thief couldn’t get out until they opened it, right?

Of course, that meant she was trapped inside with him while Vstim bled.…

The silence from behind haunted her. Rysn heaved herself to Fladm’s corpse and took his crossbow and bolts, then pulled herself toward the steps. She turned over, putting the enormous ruby beside her, and pushed up so that she was seated against the wall.

She waited, sweating, struggling to point the unwieldy weapon into the darkness of the vault. Footsteps sounded somewhere inside, coming closer. Trembling, she swung the crossbow back and forth, searching for motion. Only then did she notice that the crossbow wasn’t loaded.

She gasped, then hastily pulled out a bolt. She looked from it to the crossbow, helpless. You were supposed to cock the weapon by stepping into a stirrup on the front, then pulling it upward. Easy to do, if you could step in the first place.

A figure emerged from the darkness. The bald guard, his clothing ripped, a sword dripping blood in his shadowed hand.

Rysn lowered the crossbow. What did it matter? Did she think she could fight? That man could just heal anyway.

She was alone.

Helpless.

Live or die. Did she care?

I …

Yes. Yes, I care! I want to sail my own ship!

A sudden blur darted out of the darkness and flew around the thief. Chiri-Chiri moved with blinding speed, hovering about the man, drawing his attention.

Rysn frantically placed the crossbow bolt, then took the captain’s cord off the ruby’s sack and tied one end to the stirrup at the front of the crossbow. She tied the other end to the back of her heavy wooden chair. That done, she spared a glance for Chiri-Chiri, then hesitated.

The larkin was feeding off the thief. A line of light streamed from him, but it was a strange dark violet light. Chiri-Chiri flew about, drawing it from the man, whose face melted away, revealing marbled skin underneath.

A parshman? Wearing some kind of disguise?

No, a Voidbringer. He growled and said something in an unfamiliar language, batting at Chiri-Chiri, who buzzed away into the darkness.

Rysn gripped the crossbow tightly with one hand, then with the other she shoved her chair down the long stairway.

It fell in a clatter, the rope playing out after it. Rysn grabbed on to the crossbow with the other hand. The cord pulled taut as the chair jerked to a stop partway down the steps, and she yanked back on the crossbow at the same time, hanging on for all she was worth.

Click.

She cut the rope free with her belt knife. The thief lunged for her, and she twisted—screaming—and pulled the firing lever on the crossbow. She didn’t know how to aim properly, but the thief obligingly loomed over her.

The crossbow bolt hit him right in the chin.

He dropped and, blessedly, fell still. Whatever power had been healing him was gone, consumed by Chiri-Chiri.

The larkin buzzed over and landed on her stomach, clicking happily.

“Thank you,” Rysn whispered, sweat streaming down the sides of her face. “Thank you, thank you.” She hesitated. “Are you … bigger?”

Chiri-Chiri clicked happily.

Vstim. I need the second set of keys.

And … that ruby, the King’s Drop. The Voidbringers had been trying to steal it. Why?

Rysn tossed aside the crossbow, then pulled herself toward the vault door.

Teft could function.

You learned how to do that. How to cling to the normal parts of your life so that people wouldn’t be too worried. So that you wouldn’t be too undependable.

He stumbled sometimes. That eroded trust, to the point where it was hard to keep telling himself that he could handle it. He knew, deep down, that he’d end up alone again. The men of Bridge Four would tire of digging him out of trouble.

But for now, Teft functioned. He nodded to Malata, who was working the Oathgate, then led his men across the platform and down the ramp toward Urithiru. They were a subdued group. Few grasped the meaning of what they’d learned, but they all sensed that something had changed.

Made perfect sense to Teft. It couldn’t be easy, now, could it. Not in his storming life.

A winding path through corridors and a stairwell led them back toward their barracks. As they walked, a woman appeared in the hallway beside Teft, roughly his height, glowing with soft blue-white light. Storming spren. He pointedly did not look at her.