Heralds alive and trying to kill people, Jochi wrote. And here I thought my news about a sighting of Axies the Collector was interesting.
There’s more, Ethid wrote. Jasnah, we’ve got a Radiant here. An Edgedancer. Or … we had one.
Had one? Jochi wrote. Did you misplace her?
She ran off. She’s just a kid, Jasnah. Reshi, raised on the streets.
I think we may have met her, Jasnah wrote. My uncle encountered someone interesting in one of his recent visions. I’m surprised you let her get away from you.
Have you ever tried to hold on to an Edgedancer? Ethid wrote back. She chased after the Herald to Tashikk, but the Prime says she is back now—and avoiding me. In any case, something’s wrong with the man I think is Nalan, Jasnah. I don’t think the Heralds will be a resource to us.
I will provide you with sketches of the Heralds, Jasnah said. I have drawings of their true faces, provided by an unexpected source. Ethid, you are right about them. They aren’t going to be a resource; they’re broken. Have you read the accounts of my uncle’s visions?
I have copies somewhere, Ethid wrote. Are they real? Most sources agree that he’s … unwell.
He’s quite well, I assure you, Jasnah wrote. The visions are related to his order of Radiants. I will send you the latest few; they have relevance to the Heralds.
Storms, Ethid wrote. The Blackthorn is actually a Radiant? Years of drought, and now they’re popping up like rockbuds.
Ethid did not think highly of men who earned their reputations through conquest, despite having made the study of such men a cornerstone of her research.
The conversation continued for some time. Jochi, growing uncharacteristically solemn, spoke directly of the state of Thaylenah. It had been hit hard by the repeated coming of the Everstorm; entire sections of Thaylen City were in ruin.
Jasnah was most interested in the Thaylen parshmen who had stolen the ships that had survived the storm. Their exodus—combined with Kaladin Stormblessed’s interactions with the parshmen in Alethkar—was painting a new picture of what and who the Voidbringers were.
The conversation moved on as Ethid transcribed an interesting account she’d discovered in an old book discussing the Desolations. From there, they spoke of the Dawnchant translations, in particular those by some ardents in Jah Keved who were ahead of the scholars at Kharbranth.
Jasnah glanced through the library room, seeking out her mother, who was sitting near Shallan to discuss wedding preparations. Renarin still lurked at the far side of the room, mumbling to himself. Or perhaps to his spren? She absently read his lips.
—it’s coming from in here, Renarin said. Somewhere in this room—
Jasnah narrowed her eyes.
Ethid, she wrote, weren’t you going to try to construct drawings of the spren tied to each order of Radiant?
I’ve gotten quite far, actually, she wrote back. I saw the Edgedancer spren personally, after demanding a glimpse.
What of the Truthwatchers? Jasnah wrote.
Oh! I found a reference to those, Jochi wrote. The spren reportedly looked like light on a surface after it reflects through something crystalline.
Jasnah thought for a moment, then briefly excused herself from the conversation. Jochi said he needed to go find a privy anyway. She slipped off her seat and crossed the room, passing near Navani and Shallan.
“I don’t want to push you at all, dear,” Navani was saying. “But in these uncertain times, surely you wish for stability.”
Jasnah stopped, freehand resting idly on Shallan’s shoulder. The younger woman perked up, then followed Jasnah’s gaze toward Renarin.
“What?” Shallan whispered.
“I don’t know,” Jasnah said. “Something odd…”
Something about the way the youth was standing, the words he had spoken. He still looked wrong to her without his spectacles. Like a different person entirely.
“Jasnah!” Shallan said, suddenly tense. “The doorway. Look!”
Jasnah sucked in Stormlight at the girl’s tone and turned away from Renarin, toward the room’s doorway. There, a tall, square-jawed man had darkened the opening. He wore Sadeas’s colors, forest green and white. In fact, he was Sadeas now, at least its regent.
Jasnah would always know him as Meridas Amaram.
“What’s he doing here?” Shallan hissed.
“He’s a highprince,” Navani said. “The soldiers aren’t going to forbid him without a direct command.”
Amaram fixated on Jasnah with regal, light tan eyes. He strode toward her, exuding confidence, or was it conceit? “Jasnah,” he said when he drew close. “I was told I could find you here.”
“Remind me to find whoever told you,” Jasnah said, “and have them hanged.”
Amaram stiffened. “Could we speak together more privately, just for a moment?”
“I think not.”
“We need to discuss your uncle. The rift between our houses serves nobody. I wish to bridge that chasm, and Dalinar listens to you. Please, Jasnah. You can steer him properly.”
“My uncle knows his own mind on these matters, and doesn’t require me to ‘steer’ him.”
“As if you haven’t been doing so already, Jasnah. Everyone can see that he has started to share your religious beliefs.”
“Which would be incredible, since I don’t have religious beliefs.”
Amaram sighed, looking around. “Please,” he said. “Private?”
“Not a chance, Meridas. Go. Away.”
“We were close once.”
“My father wished us to be close. Do not mistake his fancies for fact.”
“Jasnah—”
“You really should leave before somebody gets hurt.”
He ignored her suggestion, glancing at Navani and Shallan, then stepping closer. “We thought you were dead. I needed to see for myself that you are well.”
“You have seen. Now leave.”
Instead, he gripped her forearm. “Why, Jasnah? Why have you always denied me?”
“Other than the fact that you are a detestable buffoon who achieves only the lowest level of mediocrity, as it is the best your limited mind can imagine? I can’t possibly think of a reason.”
“Mediocre?” Amaram growled. “You insult my mother, Jasnah. You know how hard she worked to raise me to be the best soldier this kingdom has ever known.”
“Yes, from what I understand, she spent the seven months she was with child entertaining each and every military man she could find, in the hopes that something of them would stick to you.”
Meridas’s eyes widened, and his face flushed deeply. To their side, Shallan audibly gasped.
“You godless whore,” Amaram hissed, releasing her. “If you weren’t a woman…”
“If I weren’t a woman, I suspect we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Unless I were a pig. Then you’d be doubly interested.”
He thrust his hand to the side, stepping back, preparing to summon his Blade.
Jasnah smiled, holding her freehand toward him, letting Stormlight curl and rise from it. “Oh, please do, Meridas. Give me an excuse. I dare you.”
He stared at her hand. The entire room had gone silent, of course. He’d forced her to make a spectacle. His eyes flicked up to meet hers; then he spun and stalked from the room, shoulders hunched as if trying to shrug away the eyes—and the snickers—of the scholars.