Dawnshard (The Stormlight Archive 3.5)

She appreciated the words, but now that she knew how the crew felt about her, she found it more difficult to quiet the voice inside. The one that whispered she didn’t deserve to own this ship. She hadn’t earned this station. She hadn’t made the money, proven her acumen, or worked her way up to being a shipmaster. Everything Rysn possessed, she had been given.

There was an uncomfortable truth to the way the captain regarded her. Rysn was untested. She was undeserving. Even victories like the one she’d accomplished today had been achieved by leaning on Vstim and his lessons. She wouldn’t stop doing that, of course. Ignoring what she’d been taught out of some kind of petulant spite was exactly the kind of thing the youthful her would have done.

That voice persisted anyway.

“You know,” Nikli said, still kneeling beside her chair and scanning the ship, “I have this strange, perhaps selfish piece inside me that didn’t want the crew to like me. It was easier to think of them all as bigots.” He looked down at his feet. “That was small of me.”

“No, just human of you,” Rysn said. “You know, you still owe me the story of why you left your homeland. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

“It isn’t a great story, Brightness,” he said. “We are a small village, my people. Not much of interest about us.”

“I’d like to hear it anyway.”

Nikli thought for a moment. Rysn had traveled quite a bit of the world, and she’d never seen tattoos like his—they had been inked over some kind of scar tissue, as if his skin had been carved, allowed to heal, then overlaid with the white tattoos.

“I was betrayed,” he finally said, “by someone I trusted. Soon after, one of us was needed to go to Thaylenah—my people, though small, like to know what is happening in the great nations of the world. I volunteered. So I wouldn’t have to be around the one who had treated me so.”

That only raised more questions in her mind. She didn’t press him. It didn’t feel right.

“Did your master have any wisdom to share about traitors?” Nikli asked. “About how to deal with someone you trust who turns against you?”

“Vstim said to always read contracts with friends an extra time,” Rysn said softly.

“That’s it?”

“I asked him, on another occasion, to explain. He said, ‘Rysn, being cheated is a terrible feeling. Being cheated by someone you love is worse. Discovering such a deception is like finding yourself in a deep dark ocean with nothing around you but formless shadows of things you once thought you understood and enjoyed. It is painful beyond explanation. But that is never a reason to pretend it can’t happen. So read those contracts again. Just in case.’ ”

Nikli grunted. “That’s . . . a different kind of wisdom than I’d anticipated. I thought maybe this man lived purely a life of charity.”

“Vstim is good and honest,” Rysn said. “But you don’t get a reputation for either without some people seeing your nature as an opportunity.” He’d warned her of that fact too, and she’d often wondered what specific experiences had taught him the painful lessons. He’d never shared the details.

“Brightness,” Nikli said. “I hesitate to say this, but . . . I think you should know. I am the type of person many ignore, and I listen well. I overhear things. I think . . . Brightness, I think the Radiants and their friends are hiding things from you.”

“Why would they do that?” Rysn asked.

“I don’t know. But they were talking, and the ardent told one of them to quiet down, lest the crew—or you—overhear. Something to do with the mission. That’s all I heard. But I do feel I should point out that the Horneater was the first to discover the worms. And the Radiants still haven’t come up with a good explanation for why she’s on this voyage.”

“What are you implying?” Rysn said.

“No implication. Merely sharing what I heard.”

“I think we can trust the Knights Radiant,” Rysn said.

“I’m sure people also thought that two thousand years ago,” Nikli said. Then he sighed and stood up. “But I probably shouldn’t have said anything. I need to go to the head, but I’ll return soon, Brightness.”

Rysn discarded the idea that the Knights Radiant had planted those worms. But there were questions that itched at her. How had those worms appeared so suddenly? And what had killed the ship’s pet? Rysn realized she hadn’t asked.

But as the ship set out, she considered. She obviously wouldn’t be the only one who understood that omens—despite being nonsense—could have powerful effects on the people who observed them. If someone wanted to interfere with this mission, a few well-placed omens would be an excellent way.

Be careful about jumping to conclusions, she told herself. The solution was to watch.

Because if she was right, another “omen” would soon arrive.

Nikli stepped into the head, locked the door, and turned off the body’s sense of smell to avoid being bombarded by the odor of this place. Nikli held up this body’s hand and made a fist, pleased by how long the form held. But now Nikli relaxed, and the seams in the body’s skin split, letting cool air reach into its squirming insides—which shivered, relieved to finally be allowed free motion after keeping tight for so long.

At the same time, Nikli closed the body’s most obvious set of eyes—its human eyes, which were actually functional, something Nikli was proud of. Most Sleepless used prop eyes. That caused their sight lines to be off, easier to notice.

With the body’s eyes closed, it was easier to feel the distant pieces of the self. Spread all across Roshar. And Nikli could make them buzz, communicating with the others, speaking directly from mind to mind as its buzzes were interpreted by hordelings bred specifically for the purpose.

We, Nikli sent to the others, have a problem.

Indeed we do, Nikliasorm, sent Alalhawithador, who had a low, angry buzz. They aren’t responding to your encouragements to turn back. You have failed. Other measures will be required.

The problem is not that, Nikli sent. The problem is that I am coming to like them.

This is not unexpected, Yelamaiszin sent. It had a smooth, calming buzz. It was First, the oldest of the swarms on Roshar. Nikli was the Twenty-Fourth, youngest of them. I like the Bondsmith, for example, though I know he will destroy us.

He will not, Zyardil sent. Its buzz was punctuated and sharp. He has made the decision of Honor.

That is why he will destroy us, Yelamaiszin replied. He is more dangerous now, not less.

This is a different argument, said Alalhawithador, who was Third—a swarm almost as old as Yelamaiszin. You like these humans, Nikliasorm. That is good. We are so bad at imitating them, and you learn well from your travels. More of us should spend time studying humans, to become like them.

Plus, Yelamaiszin said, we should have compassion for those we must cull. It is good you like the humans.

Must we cull them though? Nikli replied.

Humans are a fire that must be contained, Yelamaiszin said with its calm buzz. You are young. You were not yet Separated during the scouring.

I would like to try again to ward them away, Nikli sent.

This is a mess, said Alalhawithador, the angriest of the swarms. It should not have gone this far. You should have killed them before this.