Dawnshard (The Stormlight Archive 3.5)

Terrified.

They were unraveling. They were failing. They clung to a secret that was escaping despite their best efforts. As Vstim had taught her, she saw through their eyes. Felt their fears, their loss, their uncertainty.

“How far you have fallen,” she whispered. “You would murder the very guardians you revere? You would rip the Dawnshard forcibly from the mind of the one who bears it? You would become the things you pretend to defend against.”

Nikli slumped to the ground. His skin split, making him look like a husk.

Don’t give them what they say they want, she thought. Give them what they need.

“You say you fight hidden enemies you cannot locate,” Rysn said. “They could use this thing, but I cannot. It seems to me that the safest place for it is in my mind.”

“How?” Nikli demanded.

“Your secret is escaping, Nikli. You know you can’t hold it in. The storm ever blows, and the walls crack. You furiously plug the leaks, but the entire structure is collapsing. Your lies undermine one another.

“They will come. The ones you fear. How valuable would it be for you to be able to watch and see who they are? What if you could trap them, instead of innocent crews of sailors?”

“Innocent?” Nikli asked. “You came for loot.”

“Salvage,” Rysn said. “It sounds more civilized. Plus, you know that was only a small part of our quest here.”

Nikli thought. “It is too dangerous,” he said. “If our enemies came here, they’d find our secret.”

“Unless it wasn’t here,” Rysn said. “Unless it was somewhere completely unexpected—like in the mind of a random human woman. Who would assume you’d let one leave with something so powerful?

“Nikli, too many people, when they get something valuable, sit on it and sit on it—anticipating the trade they will someday make. They imagine how grand it will be! How much they will earn! In the meantime, they eat scraps. Do you know how many die with that nest egg, never spent, never used?

“What you want—the safeguarding of this mystery—is possible, but you need to be active. You need to make a trade, build alliances, and identify your enemies. Sitting here, hoping to simply hold on so tightly . . . it won’t work. Trust me, Nikli. Sometimes you need to accept what you’ve lost, then move forward. Then you can instead realize what you’ve gained.”

He slumped, but many of the hordelings looked at her. It was unnerving, yet it seemed promising.

“Nikli,” Rysn whispered. “Remember what I taught you. About coming to know the sailors. About the hazing. Not a perfect solution . . .”

“But instead an imperfect solution,” he whispered, “for an imperfect world.” He remained like a husk, but his hordelings started buzzing to the other two swarms.

After a long time of buzzing back and forth, Nikli spoke.

“What would it take,” he said, “to make this deal?”

“Not much. I can tell the story exactly as it happened, but leave out that mural. Cord and I swam down here, found the Plate and Soulcasters. You were going to attack us, to protect these treasures, but you were impressed by Chiri-Chiri—one of the Ancient Guardians of this place.

“Her valiance in defending me made you pause. Because of the time we spent together, and because of my persuasive nature, I convinced you that we are not your enemies. You decided to let us go.”

“People will hear of the Oathgate. You cannot hide that. Everyone will come to the island.”

“Exactly!” Rysn said. “That’s what we want. Let the Oathgate be opened, and allow scholars to swarm this place! The enemies you fear? They will drive themselves mad searching the island for the secret that’s not here!”

“Because it is in your mind,” Nikli said. “Something they’d never believe that we would allow. We, who protect planets, letting this power enter a mortal . . . An imperfect solution, yet perhaps . . .” He met her eyes. “There is a flaw. Your people might believe that we just let you go, but our enemies? They will push to find out the truth.”

“So we need another layer,” Rysn said, nodding. “A secret for them to ‘discover.’ We tell everyone that you let us go because you were impressed. Or maybe something a little more . . . mythological. Cord, how would the stories say a meeting like this might play out?”

Cord gave it some thought, then looked up again. “Luckspren. There are legends of them leading to treasure, yes? But there are always guardians of treasure. And in the stories, you complete their challenges, then get a reward.”

“So we tell everyone that,” Rysn said, “but to our queens and other dignitaries we tell a more subtle lie, one very close to the truth. That I negotiated with you for the treasure—the Shardplate and Soulcasters, saying nothing of the thing in my mind. Those who spy and push for secrets will discover this.”

“We would still need a trade,” Nikli said, “that is plausible. Something our enemies believe we’d trade to you. Yet my people have few wants. . . .”

“But you do,” Rysn said. “You said it earlier. Your kind are bad at pretending to be humans—so our trade is for training. I agree to take some of you with me, and to show you how to be human. We train you.”

“That . . .” Nikli said. “That could work. Yes, they’d believe that lie. The Soulcasters are practically useless to my kind. We keep them out of reverence, as they were offerings to the Ancient Guardians long ago. But one is with you, so it makes sense to trade them to you . . . and we do need training. It’s something we’ve often complained about.” He glanced toward Cord. “This one will know our secret.”

“I am of the Peaks,” Cord said. “Guardians of the pool. You know I can be trusted.”

Nikli buzzed with the others of his kind, then he looked Cord up and down. “If we agree to this deal, we will trade the Soulcasters to Rysn for training and aid in imitating humans. That armor you wear, however, has long been reserved for guardians of the Dawnshard. If you would bear it, you will bear that burden as well.”

“I . . . will ponder this task,” Cord said. “I have many loyalties that come before this thing.”

“If we are going to accept—and I cannot promise we will, as all the Sleepless must vote—this woman must be protected. She will need bodyguards!”

“I will have the Dawnshard’s larkin guardian,” Rysn said. “Who is its true defender, if what you’ve said to me is true. I would welcome more help, but remember, the point of all this is to not hint at what I’ve done. Too many people watching me would defeat that purpose. I assume your hordelings can monitor me quietly. I wouldn’t be able to prevent you, and honestly, I’d rather know you’re there.”

“Plus,” Cord said, “this thing will help with the lie—if your enemies spot you near Rysn, they will think you are training, as per the deal we have made.”

“The deal we are considering,” Nikli said. “It is not agreed. You don’t even know what it is you’ve done, Rysn. You don’t understand what it is that is now inside your head.”

“So . . . tell me?”

Nikli laughed. “Mere words cannot explain. The Dawnshards are Commands, Rysn. The will of a god.”