“Veden,” Rysn said in Alethi. “I do.”
“I might be able to get the ship through that gap,” the captain said, walking over. “How would you like to proceed, Rebsk?”
“Take us as close as you dare, Captain,” Rysn said.
Drlwan skillfully guided them up to the gap and, after another check of depths, sailed the ship right through the opening. The captain brought them in close enough to the island that Rysn could make out bleached carapace on the shore—the remnants of ancient greatshells. Again she held up Chiri-Chiri, hoping to get some reaction. Talik had said they should come here. But what now?
Chiri-Chiri didn’t seem interested in the place, though she did look up toward the sky and then stirred, chirping softly. Rysn placed Chiri-Chiri carefully in her lap, and the creature didn’t move much, but did keep her attention on the sky. Could she sense those invisible spren, perhaps?
Kstled stepped up and handed Rysn a spyglass. Through it, she easily made out the carapace husks as well as large diamond gemhearts lying scattered around. Dun, showing no light, they lay as if they’d fallen right where the beasts had died. Something about that struck her as odd.
“Orders, Rebsk?” the captain asked her.
Orders. It was time to be in charge. She ignored her fluttering heart, her worry for Chiri-Chiri. “Radiant the Lopen and Ardent Rushu. I assume you two will want to be on with your secret mission?”
The two shared a glance, and were embarrassed enough to draw a few shamespren, like floating flower petals.
“Er, yes, Brightness,” Rushu said. “We’ll want to strike inward, toward those buildings.”
“I suggest letting my men do a quick reconnaissance before you do so,” Rysn said. “Kstled, take a large contingent of sailors and—leaving non-combatants on the ship for now—secure the beach. Report anything unusual.”
He bowed to her, then went to gather the sailors. As the rowboats were lowered, Lopen and Huio climbed aboard. So did Rushu.
“Ardent Rushu?” Rysn called after her. “I suggest you wait until we’re certain the beach is safe.”
“A fine suggestion!” Rushu called back. “But don’t worry about me, Brightness.” And she settled herself on the bench of one of the boats.
Well, she wasn’t technically under Rysn’s authority. So she could do as she wished. Cord wisely didn’t insist on going—instead she knelt beside Rysn’s chair, then turned her gaze from Chiri-Chiri up toward the sky.
Was there a connection between the luckspren and Chiri-Chiri? Skyeels were the only other creature her size that could fly, and they were often accompanied by luckspren.
Chiri-Chiri chirped again, an encouraging sign. Rysn gave her a sphere to eat, then glanced over her shoulder toward the storm. The fog obscured much of that, but in clearer patches she could see a sweeping barrier of wind and tempest. Like the stormwall of a highstorm, only blowing circularly.
“We should finish this as quickly as possible,” Rysn said to Drlwan, who still stood nearby. “Once we’re certain the shore is safe, have some of the sailors begin scouting around the perimeter of the island. We can collect any interesting artifacts and give the Radiants time to—”
Chiri-Chiri thrashed in her lap. Rysn looked down as the creature perked up for the first time in weeks, then stood, her wings fluttering. She was still staring at the sky.
“Cord?” Rysn said in Veden. “Is she seeing luckspren?”
“I think so,” Cord said. “They’ve begun to fly lower.”
Rysn squinted, and believed she could see them. Faint arrowhead figures shimmering in the air. Chiri-Chiri chirped louder. Rysn found her heart beating faster, her breaths quickening. She’d begun to worry that this had somehow all been in vain, that there would be nothing here to help Chiri-Chiri.
The larkin zipped into the air. Storms, it had been forever since she’d flown so energetically!
The luckspren began moving more quickly. Rysn lost sight of them, and Cord gasped. Chiri-Chiri immediately tucked and dove straight down into the water.
Rysn cried out, her excitement bleeding into panic. She twisted and leaned over the side, joined by Cord. Chiri-Chiri swiftly vanished into the shadows, moving beneath some rocks and out of sight.
“She followed the spren . . .” Cord whispered. “Something is happening. Something is odd. . . .” She narrowed her eyes.
The captain stepped to the rail. “Did . . . you know it could swim?”
Rysn shook her head, feeling an alarming spike of loss. What if . . . what if Chiri-Chiri never came back? What if by bringing her here, Rysn had unwittingly offered her freedom—and she’d taken it? Well . . . Rysn tried to be positive. That was better than Chiri-Chiri being sick. And if the creature wanted freedom, Rysn wouldn’t confine her.
At the same time, so much emotion was wrapped up in her experiences with the larkin. Rysn’s slow recovery from her accident, her year of melancholy, her near death at the hands of Voidbringers. Chiri-Chiri had been with her for all that, and—in that brief first moment wondering if she was alone—Rysn found a startling fragility to her feelings. A desire to cling to something she loved and never, never let go.
Was that selfish? A trade or exchange couldn’t be a good one unless both parties gained something from it. Yet not everything was about exchanges and trades. It was sometimes difficult for her to remember that.
“Rebsk?” the captain asked.
“I . . . will wait here to see if she returns, Captain,” Rysn said, trying to remain steady. “Please, bring me word from the shore party as soon as they’ve inspected the beach.”
13
Lopen stood dramatically at the prow of the small boat, one foot up, spear over his shoulder, Rua standing in exactly the same pose on his other shoulder. The sailors had unshipped their oars behind him, as the rowboat now moved along under its own power. Why make the sailors work when you had Lashings?
Besides, Lopen could see a shadow under the water, moving along with him. These waters were shallow now, but whatever it was stayed close to the bottom—and with the clouds in the sky, it was dark enough down there to prevent Lopen from making out what it was.
He was still convinced, however, that this shadow was the thing that could feed off Stormlight. But not a little one like Chiri-Chiri. This was bigger, and a different shape. Flatter? It was hard to tell. He’d hoped it would surface and try to steal the Stormlight he put into the rowboat.
It didn’t. It seemed . . . timid. Frightened of him, unwilling to confront him directly. So Lopen tried to keep an eye on it, and had Rua do the same. It was hard, considering how exciting this next part was going to be.
Ahead, the water gave way to a rocky beach—which was overgrown with storming gemhearts like they were rockbuds. The chitinous remains of greatshells watched over them with hollow, cavernous eyes. Discarded armor of beasts long dead.
Huio’s boat drifted up beside Lopen’s, then slowed to match his lazy speed as they crossed the bay. Lopen’s cousin crouched, holding his spear in a tense posture.
“Can you believe it, older-cousin?” Lopen said. “Stepping foot on a land no person has ever visited.”
“There was a city here, Lopen,” Huio said. “It was literally one of the capitals of the Epoch Kingdoms.”