Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive 4)

“Everyone has holes in their knowledge. There is no shame in ignorance. In any case, oil and water aren’t opposites. I’m not certain what the opposite of water would be, if the word even has meaning when applied to an element.”

“The various forms of Light do have opposites,” Raboniel said. “I am certain of it. Yet I must think on what you’ve shown me.” She reached over and tapped the sphere full of Towerlight. “For now, experiment with this Light. To keep you focused, I must insist you remain in this room until finished each day, except when accompanied to use the chamber.”

“Very well,” Navani said. “Though if you want my scholars to actually develop something for you, this idea of them drawing plans and you testing them is foolish. It won’t work, at least not well. Instead, Ancient One, I suggest you deliver to us gemstones that can power fabrials that work in the tower.”

Raboniel hummed for a moment, regarding the emulsion. “I will send such gems to your people as proof of my willingness to work together.” She turned to go. “If you intend to use ciphers to give hidden instructions to your scholars, kindly make them difficult ones. The spren I will use to unravel your true messages do like a challenge. It gives them more variety in existence.”

Raboniel set a guard at the door, but didn’t restrict Navani’s access within the room. It was otherwise unoccupied: it held only bookshelves, crates, and the occasional sphere lantern. There were no other exits, but near the rear of the room Navani found a vein of crystal hidden among the strata.

“Are you there?” she asked, touching it.

Yes, the Sibling replied. I am closer to death than ever. Surrounded by evils on all sides. Men and singers alike seeking to abuse me.

“Don’t create a false equivalency,” Navani said. “My kind might not understand the harm we’ve done to spren, but the enemy certainly knows the harm they cause in corrupting them.”

Regardless. I will soon die. Only two nodes remain, and the previous one was discovered so rapidly.

“More proof that you should be helping us, not them,” Navani whispered, peeking through the stacks to see that she hadn’t aroused the guard’s attention. “I need to understand more about how these various forms of Light work.”

I don’t think I can explain much, the Sibling said. For me, it all simply worked. Like a human child can breathe, so I used to make and use Light. And then … the tones went away … and the Light left me.

“All right,” Navani said. “We can talk on that more later. For now, you need to tell me where the other nodes are.”

No. Defend them once they are found.

“Sibling,” Navani said, “if Kaladin Stormblessed can’t protect a node, no one can. Our goal should be to distract and mislead, to prevent the Fused from ever finding them. To do this, I’ll need to know where the nodes are.”

You talk so well, the Sibling said. So frustratingly well. You humans always sound so reasonable. It’s only later, after the pain, that the truth comes out.

“Hide it if you wish,” Navani said. “But you have to know, after watching Kaladin fight for you, that we are severely outmatched. Our sole hope is to prevent the nodes from being located. If I knew where at least one of them was, I could come up with plots to deflect the enemy’s attention.”

Come up with those plots first, the Sibling said. Then talk to me again.

“Fine,” Navani said. She slipped a few books off the shelf to hide what she’d been doing, then walked to her seat. There, she began writing down everything she knew about light.

EIGHT YEARS AGO

Eshonai turned the topaz over in her fingers and attuned Tension. A topaz should glow with a calm, deep brown—but this one gave off a wicked orange light, like the bright color along the back of a sigs cremling warning that it was poisonous.

Looking closely, Eshonai thought she could make out the spren trapped in it. A painspren, frantically moving around. Though … perhaps she imagined the frantic part. The spren was mostly formless when inside the gemstone, having reverted to the misty Stormlight that created all of their kind. Still, it couldn’t be happy in there. How would she feel if she were locked into a room, unable to explore?

“You learned this from the humans?” Eshonai said.

“Yes,” Venli said. She sat comfortably between two of the elders in the small council room, which was furnished with woven mats and painted banners.

Venli wasn’t one of the Five—the head elders—but she seemed to think she belonged among them. Something had happened to her these last few months. Where she’d once been self-indulgent, she now radiated egotism and confidence. She hummed to Victory as Eshonai passed the gemstone to one of the elders.

“Why did you not bring this to us earlier, Venli?” Klade asked. The reserved elder took the gemstone next. “The humans have been gone for months now.”

“I thought I might be wrong,” Venli said to Confidence. “I decided to see if I could trap a spren on my own. Surely you wouldn’t have wanted to be bothered by my fancies, should I have been wrong.”

“I hadn’t heard of this thing they can do,” Klade said to Reconciliation. “Do you think you could trap a lifespren? If so, we could better choose when we adopt mateform. That would be convenient.”

“Try this stone,” Venli said, taking it, then handing it to Varnali next. “I think it might be the secret to warform.”

“A dangerous form,” Varnali said. “But useful.”

“It is not a form of power,” Klade said. “It is within our rights to claim it.”

“The humans make overtures,” Gangnah—foremost among them—said to Annoyance, a rhythm used to elicit sympathy for a frustrating situation. “They act as if we are a nation united, not a group of squabbling families. I wish we could present to them a stronger face. They have accomplished so much during our centuries apart, while we remember so little.”

“Pardon, elders,” Eshonai said to Reconciliation. “But they have advantages we do not. A much larger population, ancient devices to create metals, a land more sheltered from the storms.”

She’d recently returned from her latest exploration efforts—which the elders now fully supported. She’d sought to circumvent the human trading post, then find their home. She’d attuned Disappointment more than once; every place she thought she’d find the humans had been empty. They’d found packs of wild chulls, and even spotted a distant and rare group of Ryshadium.

No humans. Not until she’d returned to their trading post, which had been transformed into a small fort—built from stone and staffed by soldiers and two scribes. The humans had a message for her there. The human king wished to “formalize relations” with her people, whom they referred to as “Parshendi.”

She’d returned with the message to find this: Venli sitting among the elders. Venli, so sure of herself. Venli replicating human techniques that Eshonai—despite spending the most time with them—hadn’t heard them discuss.

“Thank you, Eshonai,” Gangnah said to Appreciation. “You have done well on your expedition.” Workform had carapace only along the backs of the hands in small ridges, and Gangnah’s was beginning to whiten at the edges. A sign of her age. She turned to the others and continued. “We will need to respond to this offer. The humans expect us to be a nation. Should we form a government like they have?”