Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive 4)

“Yes!” Raboniel said, cutting off. “Yes, that’s it!”

“Odium’s rhythm now,” Navani said to Honor’s tone and beat.

Raboniel did so, and it struck Navani like a wave, making her tone falter. She almost lost it, but the gemstones were her guide. Navani sang louder, trying to hold that tone.

In turn, Raboniel sang more forcefully.

No, Navani thought, taking a breath then continuing to sing. No, we can’t fight. She took Raboniel’s hand, singing the tone, but softer. Raboniel quieted as well. Holding the Fused’s hand, Navani felt as if she were reaching for something. Her tone changed slightly.

Raboniel responded, their two tones moving toward one another, step by step, until …

Harmony.

The rhythms snapped into alignment, a burst of chaotic notes from Raboniel—bounded by a regular, orderly pulse from Navani.

Heartbeats. Drumbeats. Signals. Together.

Navani reached over and placed their clasped hands on the empty gemstone at the center of the experiment, holding them there as they sang for an extended moment in concert. In tandem, a pure harmony where neither took control.

The two of them looked at each other, then fell silent. Carefully, they removed their hands to reveal a diamond glowing a vibrant black-blue. An impossible color.

Raboniel trembled as she picked the gemstone out of its place, then held it up, humming a reverential rhythm. “They did not annihilate one another, as I assumed. Indeed, as part of me hoped. You were right, Navani. Remarkably, I have been proven wrong.” She turned the gemstone in her fingers. “I can name this rhythm: the Rhythm of War. Odium and Honor mixed together. I had not known it before today, but I recognize its name; I know this as surely as I know my own. Each rhythm carries with it an understanding of its meaning.”

The sphere they had created was different from Szeth’s—blue instead of violet, and lacking the strange distortion. Navani couldn’t be certain, but it seemed to her that was what Raboniel had been seeking.

“Ancient One,” Navani said. “Something confuses me. Why would you have preferred that these two annihilate one another?” Navani had an inkling why. But she wanted to see what she could prompt the Fused to reveal.

Raboniel sat for a long time, humming softly to herself as she inspected the gemstone. She seemed fascinated by the motion within, the Stormlight and the Voidlight mixed to form something that surged in brilliant raging storms, then fell still—peaceful and quiet—between.

“Do you know,” the Fused finally asked, “how Honor was killed?”

“I … am not certain I accept that he was.”

“Oh, he was. At least the being you call the Almighty—the being who controlled the Shard of power that was Honor—is dead. Long dead. Do you know how?”

“No.”

“Neither do I,” Raboniel said. “But I wonder.”

Navani sat back in her seat. “Surely, if it is true—and my husband says it is, so I accept the possibility—then the mechanisms of the deaths of gods are far beyond the understanding of humans and Fused alike.”

“And did you not tell me earlier that everything has a mechanism? The gods give us powers. What are those powers? Gravitation, Division, Transformation … the fundamental Surges that govern all things. You said that nothing simply is. I accept that, and your wisdom. But by that same logic, the gods—the Shards—must work not by mystery, but by knowledge.”

She turned the gemstone in her fingers, then met Navani’s eyes. “Honor was killed using some process we do not yet understand. I assume, from things I have been told, that some opposite was used to tear his power apart. I thought if I could discover this opposite Light, then we would have power over the gods themselves. Would that not be the power to end a war?”

Storms. That was what he’d wanted. That was what Gavilar had been doing.

Gemstones. Voidlight. A strange sphere that exploded when affixed to a fabrial … when mixed with another Light …

Gavilar Kholin—king, husband, occasional monster—had been searching for a way to kill a god.

Suddenly, the extent of his arrogance—and his magnificent planning—snapped together for Navani. She knew something Raboniel did not. There was an opposite to Voidlight. It wasn’t Stormlight. Nor was it this new mixed Light they’d created. But Navani had seen it. Held it. Her husband had given it to Szeth, who had given it to her.

By the holiest name of the Almighty … she thought. It makes sense. But like all great revelations, it led to a multitude of new questions. Why? How?

Raboniel stood up, completely oblivious to Navani’s epiphany. The Fused tucked away the gemstone, and Navani forced herself to focus on this moment. This discovery.

“I thought for certain it was something about the nature of Odium’s power contrasting Honor’s power that led to the destruction,” Raboniel said. “I was wrong, and you have proven exceedingly helpful in leading me to this proof. Now, I must abandon this line of reasoning and focus on my actual duty—the securing of the tower.”

“And your promise that you would leave if I helped you find this Light?”

“I’m sorry,” Raboniel said. “Next time, try not to be so trusting.”

“In the end,” Navani whispered, “you are his, and I am Honor’s.”

“Unfortunately,” Raboniel said. “You may remain here and continue whatever other research you wish. You have earned that, and my gratitude. If you would like to seek a simple job in the tower instead, I will arrange it. Consider your options, then tell me your wishes.” Raboniel hesitated. “It is rare for a Fused to be in the debt of a human.”

With that, she left. Navani, in turn, downed the rest of the cup of wine, her head abuzz with implications.

SEVEN AND A HALF YEARS AGO

Venli ducked out of the way of a patrol of human guards. As she hid in the doorway, she attuned Peace in an attempt to calm her emotions. She’d come with her people to sign the treaty, but that—and the feast to mark the occasion—was still hours away. While her people prepared, Venli crept through forbidden hallways in their palace.

The pair of guards, chatting in the Alethi tongue, continued on their patrol. She breathed quietly, trying hard not to let the majesty of this human building overwhelm her. Ulim assured her that her people had built equally grand structures once, and they would again. They would build such amazing creations, this palace of Kholinar would look like a hut by comparison.

Would that she could skip this middle part, where she was required to be in such danger. Planning with Ulim, that she liked. Being famous for revealing warform, that she loved. This creeping about though … She’d expressly disobeyed human rules, slipping into forbidden sections of the palace. If she were caught …

She closed her eyes and listened to the Rhythm of Peace. Only a little longer, she thought. Just until Ulim’s companions reach us. Then this will all be over.

However, she found herself questioning more now that Ulim had left her gemheart. Ulim spoke of a hidden storm and a coming war, with figures of legend returning to fight. That talk spun in her head—and things that seemed so rational a day ago now confused her. Was this really the best way to convince her people to explore forms of power? Wasn’t she toying with war and destruction? Why was Ulim so eager?