Dawnshard (The Stormlight Archive, #3.5)(32)

“Hey,” Lopen said, taking the arm of the chair to steady it. “Feels good, I bet. You deserve this, gancha.”

“How can you know that?” Rysn said. “We’ve known each other for only a few weeks.”

“I’m a good judge of character,” Lopen said, with a grin. “Besides. Everyone deserves this.” He nodded to her, and a little windspren—in the shape of a one-armed youth—wandered through the air over to Lopen. Or . . . no, it wasn’t a windspren. Something else.

A Radiant spren. It was the first time one had appeared to her, and this one bowed in a very official-seeming way. Then he broke into several copies, which all raised hands to wave at her.

“Forgive Rua,” Lopen said. “He’s a bit weird.”

“I . . . Thank you, Rua,” she said.

“I’m going to have to remove those gems on the chair for now, Brightness,” Rushu said. “We’ll need to use at least three for stability in the future, and I’ll want to strengthen the housings. After that, we’ll want to rig a way for you to order the anchor raised and lowered somewhere on the ship, so you can hover or not with a command.”

“Yes, of course,” Rysn said, but she clung to Chiri-Chiri as she was forced back to the mundane ground, the precious gemstones stolen away. She could bear it. Something better was coming. She saw independence, and it was glorious. Even if she could merely move about the deck of the ship on her own, pulling herself along the railing, it would be a huge improvement.

And the people who had helped her so much via spanreed over the past few months? Gifting her the equipment they’d developed, urging her toward self-sufficiency? She would soon have a repayment for them. Oh, storms would she.

“Guess this will mean putting me out of a job,” Nikli said, walking over.

Rysn felt a spike of worry for him. “For now this will only get me around the ship—if it ends up working. I suspect I’ll have need of your strong arms for some time yet, Nikli.”

However, he was smiling. “I would like nothing more than to be put out of this job, Rysn,” he said softly. Then hesitated. “This is an important discovery for so many people. You should make certain to transfer it quickly via spanreed. So it is not lost, in case something happens to this expedition.”

“Wise,” Rysn said, glancing toward the dimming bonfire. The night was growing late. They’d soon need to get on the ship for the night. There was no storm today, and they’d be safer—in these foreign lands—out on the ocean than they would be trying to camp on the beach. “In fact, Ardent Rushu, you should probably inform others now. Don’t sit upon this news.”

Rysn gave the order to return to the Wandersail, and everyone started packing up. Rushu did as asked, while the Lopen explained to the sailors what had happened.

Nikli knelt beside her chair. “Brightness,” he said. “It’s not my place, I realize, to interfere in the doings of lighteyes. But . . .”

“Go ahead,” Rysn said.

“Do you mind telling me what that Horneater said to you? Earlier?”

“We talked about spren, and about her gods. Why?”

“The other night,” he whispered, “I overheard her saying something suspicious. She really wanted the expedition to continue. She’s too eager. Something feels wrong, like . . . I don’t know, Brightness. Like we’re heading into some kind of trap.”

“I think your suspicion is misplaced, Nikli,” Rysn said.

“Maybe, maybe,” he said, bobbing his head. “But earlier, did she warn you toward caution? Or did she encourage you forward?”

“She encouraged me forward with caution,” Rysn said. “In that, she’s no different from the Alethi queen, or Queen Navani, or even Queen Fen. All want us to succeed.”

“Yet they keep secrets, lie to us,” Nikli said. “I know I’m nobody important, Brightness. But if I were to come to you with proof of the Horneater’s ill will toward us, would it help you see that something is wrong here?”

“I suppose it would,” Rysn said, frowning. But why would Nikli be so worried? Though . . . Cord had used invisible spren only she could see as proof that Rysn should continue. And Navani had kept part of the truth from Rysn. About one thing, certainly. Perhaps about others?

But it made no sense. Cord was with the Radiants, and they trusted her. Why would Navani ask Rysn to go on this mission, then try to undermine it? Unless they were more divided than they seemed.

Or unless . . .

Her suspicion was piqued. “Thank you, Nikli,” she said. “You were wise to bring this to me.”

“I worry they’re playing us for fools, Brightness,” he whispered. “I don’t like being manipulated to do Radiant work. Perhaps we should turn back?”

“Get me your proof first,” Rysn said. “And for now, don’t tell anyone what you’ve told me.”





10





Rysn pulled herself along the port rail, and her chair—hovering in place a foot and a half off the deck—glided smoothly in response. She made it to the prow, then unlocked the mechanism that Rushu and Huio had installed on her seat. It was based on a spinning serving dish, and let the top of her seat rotate, while the bottom portion—with the gemstones—stayed in place.