Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive 4)

Her lines were too dark, too rigid, to properly capture the Memory of Ua’pam standing with one foot up on the railing, looking like an explorer setting out for adventure. She tried to make herself relax, drawing a fanciful image of sunlight streaming around him. That, however, made the four Cryptics start humming in excitement.

“Could you all step back and give me more room?” Shallan asked the creatures.

They didn’t cock their heads like humans might have, but she could sense confusion in the way their patterns sped up. Then, as if one, all four took exactly one step backward. They then proceeded to lean in even closer.

Shallan sighed, and as she kept drawing, she got Ua’pam’s arm wrong. Spren were hard, because they didn’t quite have human proportions. The Cryptics started humming with excitement.

“That’s not a lie!” Shallan said, reaching for her eraser. “It’s a mistake, you nitwits.”

“Mmmm…” Ornament said. Beryl’s Cryptic had a fine pattern, delicate like lace, and a squeaky voice. “Nitwit! I am a nitwit. Mmmm.”

“A nitwit is a stupid person or spren,” Pattern explained. “But she said it in an endearing way!”

“Stupidly endearing!” Mosaic said. She was Vathah’s Cryptic, and her pattern had sharp lines to it. She often included rapid fast sections that waved like the women’s script. “Contradiction! Wonderful and blessed contradiction of nonsense and human complication to be alive!”

Motif, Ishnah’s Cryptic, simply made a bunch of clicking noises in rapid succession. His Alethi was not good, so he preferred to speak in the Cryptic language. The others began rapidly clicking to one another, and in the overlapping cacophony, she lost track of Pattern. For a moment they were all just a clump of alien creatures, huddled together with their patterns almost touching. The nearby sound of beads slapping against one another seemed the chatter of hundreds of Cryptics. Thousands of them. Watching her. Always watching her …

Radiant came to her rescue. Radiant, who had trained to ignore the chaos of battle, with its distracting sounds and constant yelling. When she took over, she brought with her a stability. She couldn’t draw, so she tucked away the pad. She excused herself from the Cryptics and made her way to the stern of the barge, where she watched the rolling beads until Shallan recovered and emerged.

“Thank you,” she said as Radiant withdrew.

Shallan listened to the peaceful rolling of the beads, endlessly surging. Perhaps it wasn’t just the Cryptics that were bothering her. And after several days on the barge spent drawing, it was time to dive into the problem of finding the spy. She took a deep breath, and submitted to Veil.

No, Veil said.

… No?

You said we could look for the spy today, Shallan said.

We are. You. With my help.

Is this, Shallan asked, penance because you broke the compact?

In a way. I want to coach you through a little espionage.

I don’t need to know it, she thought. I have you.

Humor me, kid. I need this.

Shallan sighed, but agreed. They couldn’t share skills, as evidenced by Veil’s drawing abilities. She knew espionage, Radiant could use a sword, and Shallan had their Lightweaving ability. And their sense of humor.

Oh please, Radiant thought.

“So how do we start?” Shallan asked.

We need to test each of the three subjects, Veil said, and plant a—

Wait, Radiant thought. Shouldn’t we first make absolutely certain the communication device couldn’t have been moved another way? If we’re using that as evidence that the spy is along on this mission?

Shallan ground her teeth. Veil sighed softly.

But both agreed that Radiant was, unfortunately, correct. So Shallan strolled to the large tent they’d set up on the deck of the barge, using boxes and tarps. It was more like a large cave. While they didn’t need shelter from the elements in Shadesmar, it made them feel comfortable.

Shallan ducked inside and went to the nook, made from boxes, that she shared with Adolin. She’d left the trunk unguarded—after all, she did want to catch the person doing this. She didn’t want to hover about the place and make it obvious what she knew.

For now, she unlocked the trunk and checked on the device. It hadn’t been moved again, so far as she could tell. But she didn’t trust the trunk’s lock. Tyn had been able to pick most locks—and beyond that, in the Physical Realm at least, spren could slip through openings like a keyhole. She’d seen Syl do it, not to mention Pattern.

She closed the trunk and—checking to make sure no one could see her around the corner in the box-walled nook—she tipped the trunk to one side, then the other. When she looked inside, the device had barely moved. She had it packed tightly enough between books and art materials that it couldn’t have flipped on its own.

Satisfied? she asked.

Yes, Radiant said. It couldn’t have shifted faces without being removed from the trunk.

Agreed, Veil said.

And we didn’t do it, right? Radiant asked pointedly.

It was a discomforting question. They weren’t always aware of what one of them did when another was in control. Often these days they worked together, giving up control by conscious choice, helping one another. But there were worse days. Shallan couldn’t remember all the things Veil had done during that day she’d seized control, for example.

I didn’t move it, Veil said. I promise.

I didn’t either, Radiant said.

“Nor did I,” Shallan whispered. And she knew it to be true. None of the Three had moved it, though she worried about Formless. Could part of her mind be betraying her? She didn’t think that piece was even aware, or real, yet.

It wasn’t us, Veil said. I know this, Shallan. You have to trust it.

She did. And that was what had disturbed her so much upon seeing the device moved. It was concrete proof that someone among her staff was lying to her.

All right, Veil said. I’ve gone over the places the trunk was out of our sight … and it’s not good. There were a ton of opportunities when it was alone back in Urithiru. We’re not going to get anywhere trying to discover who had access to it, particularly not from this barge.

“I still wish you’d do this part yourself,” Shallan whispered to her.

Tough. Go back out, and we’ll get started.

As she strode out, however, Pattern intercepted her. He walked up, his fingers laced before him. “Mmm…” he said. “I am sorry for earlier. For their overexcitement. The others do not have as much experience with humans.”

“They have their Radiants,” Shallan noted.

“Yes. That is not humans. That is one human each.”

“You only have me.”

“No! Before you, I studied humans. I talked about them much. I am very famous.”

“Famous?”

“Very famous.” His pattern sped up. “Cryptics do not often go into the cities of other spren. We are not liked. I went. I watched humans in Shadesmar, as we had planned to find humans to bond again. The other Cryptics were impressed by my bravery.”

“Yes, very brave,” Shallan said. “We humans are known to bite.”

“Ha ha. Yes, bite. And break your oaths and murder your spren. Ha ha.”

Shallan winced. True, those were the actions of other Radiants. Not Radiants from her generation. At least none of the noble ones, like Kaladin or Dalinar.