Dawnshard (The Stormlight Archive, #3.5)(51)

“Afraid not,” Lopen said. “It’s political.” Nearby, Huio was drawing the thing’s attention, but his Stormlight was waning. “Don’t get eaten again!” Lopen called. “But if you do, try not to get sneezed out! It’s awful!”

“Political?” Kstled asked.

“You’ve got to say these words,” Lopen said, “and I said them, because they’re good words. But the Stormfather, sure, he has no sense of style.” He glanced up at the sky. “This would be a great time, O blustery one! I will protect those I hate! I’ve got it, you den gancho god thing!”

No response.

Lopen sighed, then shouldered his spear. “All right, so Huio and I will try to lead it farther inland. Then you and your sailors, sure, you grab those boats and try to get to the ship.”

“We can’t let it follow us to the Wandersail!” Kstled said. “A greatshell like that could sink the ship!”

“Yeah, well, then we need to all retreat and try to lead it inward. We can maybe take shelter in the buildings inland!”

“What if in running, we encourage it to move out and attack the ship?”

“We’ll just have to deal with that if it happens, all right? Huio and I will distract it; the rest of you prepare to retreat up to the fallen city.”

Kstled hesitated, then nodded. Lopen Lashed himself into the air and shot toward the thing. Maybe if he could get in close while it was focused on Huio, he could stab it real good. He also needed to give Huio some more Stormlight. Lopen had plenty, sure, in his pouches.

He flew around behind the thing, but it seemed ready for this. It kept shifting, keeping one of its beady jet-black eyes toward Lopen while it slammed its arms toward Huio.

Huio shouted at it, fortunately drawing its attention. There! Lopen thought, preparing his spear. He got in closer. When it glanced toward him again, he’d Lash the spear directly into its eye.

Lopen felt a sudden chill.

A coldness began at his back, right between his shoulder blades, then washed through him. Cold enough that it made him jerk upright, stunned. Unable to move as he felt something leeched from him.

His Stormlight.

He managed to spin in the air, trying to swing his spear and attack. But it was too late. He glimpsed a swarm of small cremlings flying behind him—different from the one Rysn had as a pet. Smaller—maybe the size of his fist—and more bulbous, the two dozen creatures barely managed to hang in the air. But their feeding had been enough to drain him.

As he dropped through the air, he felt panic. They’d gotten his pouches too. There was nothing left to suck in. He—

He hit. Hard. Something snapped in his leg.

The monster undulated toward him, opening its awful maw and glaring with those terrible eyes. It seemed eager as it raised its arms to smash him.


“You were there when I met Navani Kholin,” Rysn said to Nikli. “You know she isn’t the type to be easily dissuaded.”

“The Mother of Machines,” Nikli said it like a distinctive title. “Yes. We are . . . aware.”

“You tried to scare away her Windrunners when they investigated this island,” Rysn said, “so she sent a ship. What do you think will happen if that ship vanishes mysteriously? You think she’ll give up? You’ll see a fleet next.”

Nikli sighed, then met her eyes. “You assume we don’t have plans in place, Rysn,” he said. He seemed genuine. Though he was made up of monsters inside, he appeared to be the person she’d come to know during their travels.

“Your plans so far haven’t worked,” Rysn said. “Why would you assume one to scare off the Radiants will?”

“I . . . I wish you’d taken our bait,” he said. “Some of us wanted to sink your ship as soon as it breached the storm. But we persuaded them. We told them you’d be happy with the gemhearts. You were supposed to also locate a little stash of maps and writings from long ago; we would have made sure you found it before leaving.

“Once you returned to Queen Navani, you’d have discovered that the gemhearts were fake. The writings would prove to be the remnants of an old pirate scheme, from the days before this place was surrounded with a storm. You’d have learned those pirates used legends of treasure to lure people to Akinah—that they’d spread fake gemstones on the beaches to draw their marks in and distract them before attacking.

“It would have been so neat, so easy. With those stories in hand, everyone would dismiss the legends about riches on Akinah. They’d leave us alone. No one would have to die. Except . . .”

“Except there’s an Oathgate here,” Rysn said. “They’ll never leave it alone, Nikli.”

“They will think it destroyed,” Nikli said. “After . . . what must regrettably be done here to you and your crew . . . some of us will imitate sailors. Your ship will limp back to port, and we will tell the story. A storm that cost too many lives while getting through it. A fight with a strange greatshell. A destroyed Oathgate. Fake gemhearts. Everyone will leave us alone after that.”

Damnation. That might work.

But Vstim’s calm voice seemed to whisper to her from across the ocean. This was her moment. The most important deal of her life. What did they want? What did they say they wanted?

Storms, I’m not ready for something like this, she thought.