Dawnshard (The Stormlight Archive, #3.5)(17)

“But when the ship goes down,” Rysn said, pointing at the other ring, “shouldn’t it go up?”

“Yes, theoretically,” Rushu said. “But it doesn’t. Only your movements affect it. We believe this has to do with the frame of reference, as applied to the person moving the hoop. Spren, it should be noted, have a curious relationship to our perception of them and their motions. You see both of these hoops in the same frame of reference, so they act together. It’s why the motion and curve of the planet don’t influence spanreeds.

“It’s proven impossible for someone on a ship with a spanreed to see themselves in the same frame of reference as the person receiving the communication. Perhaps there is a way to train ourselves, but no one has discovered it. Indeed, even the size of the ship can influence these things. If you tried this experiment on a rowboat, for example, the results could be different.”

That . . . didn’t make much sense to Rysn. Still, it was evident that the ship’s motion didn’t affect the two hoops. They both moved with it, rather than one ring being left behind—or being sent hundreds of feet in the opposite direction as the ship sailed forward.

Fabrials. Her babsk had always been fascinated with them. Perhaps that was something Rysn should have picked up from him.

“So how’s this going to help?” the Lopen said, sitting up beside her seat. “Oh! We’re going to stick those to her legs, and then have this other person walk around, and she’ll be able to look like she’s walking!”

“Er,” Rushu said, “we were rather thinking of making her seat hover in the air.”

“Oh,” the Lopen said. “That makes way more sense.” He seemed disappointed nonetheless.

Rysn shook her head. “I see why Brightness Navani was hesitant to make any promises. If we were to make a chair hover for me, it wouldn’t do me much good, would it? The chair would have to be attached to a lattice of gemstones, and then if I wanted to move forward, someone would have to move that lattice. So I’d still need porters and carriers.”

“Unfortunately, yes, Brightness,” Rushu said.

Rysn tried not to let disappointment show on her face. The world was becoming a place of wonders—men and women soared in the air, and ships were being built with lightning rods right in the masts. At times, everything felt like it was progressing at an insane pace.

Yet none of it seemed able to help her. The healing was amazing . . . as long as your wound was fresh. The fabrials were incredible . . . as long as you had manpower to operate them. She had let herself begin to dream of a hovering seat she could direct under her own power, without needing to be hauled around like a roll of sailcloth.

Be careful, she thought. Don’t sink back into that lethargy of inaction. Life was better for her now. She’d learned to change her surroundings to suit her needs. She dressed herself every morning with ease, using the hooks. Plus she had her own ship! Well, she owned a ship. At any rate, this was better than sitting in a dull room doing accounts.

“Thank you for the demonstration, Ardent Rushu,” she said. “The technology is fascinating, even if the application doesn’t seem suited to my needs.”

“Well, Brightness Navani did assign me a list of tests to run,” Rushu said. “She gave some thought to how this might help you in your specific situation. Perhaps you’d like to get a view as grand as that of the eel’s nest? We could send you soaring up high. Or perhaps we can fashion a little lift to raise and lower you to and from the quarterdeck? That can be managed with some counterweights and a crank that can be wound periodically by one of the sailors.”

That seemed a pale offering compared to her dreams, but Rysn forced out a smile. “Thank you. I should like to be available for those experiments.”

Rushu deactivated the hoops and returned them to her box, along with some other machinery—including several silvery sheets of metal of varying thickness. “Aluminum,” she explained as Rysn peered inside. “It blocks spanreed communication, something we only recently discovered. Navani wants me to experiment with how thick the aluminum needs to be to function, and then see if it affects—in any way—how paired rubies react, or don’t react, to natural ship movements. I even have some foil, to . . . Oh, I’m getting too technical, aren’t I? Sorry. I have a tendency to do that.”

She looked to Rysn, then to the Lopen, who was sitting and rubbing his chin.

“Wait,” he said. “Back up. I need an explanation.”

“Lopen,” Rushu said, “I hardly think I can—”

“How do fish breathe?” he said.

Rysn smiled at the ardent’s exasperation. Rushu thought it was a joke, but the Lopen seemed genuinely interested as he pestered her for an explanation.

A sudden motion distracted Rysn as Kstled rushed up to the quarterdeck and whispered something to the captain, who had been chatting with the current helmsman. Rysn focused on them, on Kstled’s worried face, and on the captain’s immediate frown.

Would they remember to inform her, whatever it was? The captain gave an order, then started down the steps. Halfway down, she paused to glance at Rysn—and noticed that Rysn was looking directly at her.

So, the captain—seeming annoyed—walked back up and trotted over.

“What?” Rysn asked, anxious. “What is wrong?”