Dawnshard (The Stormlight Archive, #3.5)(52)

You’ll have to do it anyway.

She took a deep breath. “You truly think you can imitate my ship’s sailors well enough to fool people who knew them? You use a body with tattoos, I assume to hide the seams in your skin. You don’t quite know how to act Thaylen, so you imitate a foreigner. You actually think this subterfuge will work? Or will it instead spread more mystery?”

Nikli met her eyes, but didn’t reply.

“That’s been your problem all along,” Rysn said. “Each lie you spin makes the mystery more entrancing. You want to protect this place. What if I could help you?”

Rysn’s mouth had gone dry. But she continued holding the creature’s eyes. No, Nikli’s eyes. She had to see him as the person she knew. That was someone she could talk to, persuade.

He might be some nightmare from the depths, but he was still a person. And people had needs.

They were interrupted by footsteps at the door. Cord stepped in wearing the breastplate, which she’d apparently managed to power. Indeed, her fist glowed with gemstones she’d found.

On one hand, she looked somewhat comical wearing only half of the armor. Her exposed head and arms seemed child-size with the rest of the Plate in place and functioning. Yet her solemn expression, the way she slammed the butt of a spear down beside her . . . Rysn found herself bolstered by the young woman’s determination.

Cord said something loudly in her own language.

“We may speak in Veden,” Nikli said, “so Rysn may understand.”

“Very well,” Cord said. “I challenge you! You must duel me now to the death!”

“I think you’ll find I cannot be defeated by a mortal,” Nikli said. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Is that a yes?” Cord bellowed.

“If you insist.”

“Ha!” she said. “You have been tricked, god! I am Hualinam’lunanaki’akilu, the daughter of Numuhukumakiaki’aialunamor, the Fal’ala’liki’nor, he who drew the Bow of Hours at the dawn of the new millennium, heralding the years of change! If you were to kill me, you would be violating the ancient pact of the Seven Peaks, and so must now forfeit the battle!”

Nikli blinked in what seemed like a very human show of utter confusion. “I . . . have no idea what any of that means,” he said.

“. . . You don’t?” Cord asked.

“No.”

“Excuse me.” She hurried over to Rysn, each footstep clanking on the stone. She knelt. “Are you well?”

“Well as I can be,” Rysn said. “Cord . . . I think they’re going to kill everyone to keep their secret.”

“They don’t seem to know about the ancient treaties,” Cord whispered. “And in truth, those treaties were made with other gods. I had hoped the Gods Who Sleep Not would be similarly bound, but now I am not certain.” She looked down. “I am no warrior, Rysn. I wish to be one, and have claimed this Plate, but I haven’t trained to fight. I don’t know if these gods can even be fought. In the stories, you must always trick them.”

“I would rather,” Rysn said, her voice loud enough for Nikli to hear, “simply reach an agreement. Surely they can be persuaded.”

“Perhaps,” Cord said. “The Gods Who Sleep Not are guardians of life. They seek to prevent its end. Use that.”

Rysn studied Nikli. He and the others could have killed her by now. But they waited; they were willing to talk. They said there was no solution. But if that were the case, why was she still alive?

“Is Cord right?” Rysn said. “Are you protectors of life?”

“We . . .” Nikli said. “We have seen the end of worlds, and vowed never to let such an awful event happen again. But we will kill the few to protect the many, if we must.”

“What if I could provide you with another option that didn’t involve murdering any more people?”

“We tried,” Nikli said. “We did everything we could to frighten you away.” His skin split along the seams, as if in agitation. “The storm has protected this place for centuries. It is only recently that it weakened enough to let people through. But . . . we are committed, Rysn. By now we’ve killed hundreds.”

“And you’ve never wondered whether your method is flawed? Yes, you could create another fabrication. But will it work? Or will more of the truth seep out? Will you end up with people swarming this island? Coming ever closer to the real secrets? The ones you hide in these caves?

“You say you wish to protect life. But if you continue on your current course, you’re going to have to kill Cord and me. You are going to kill Knights Radiant. If you truly are sorry you have to take such desperate actions, don’t you owe it to yourself—and the cosmere—to sit and at least see if there is another way?”

She turned her hands up, again signaling her desire to begin a deal.

Nikli glanced at his two companions. One barely made an effort to appear human; her skin split at wide seams, and cremlings crawled up and down her body. Neither gave a response Rysn could understand, though the unnerving buzzing surrounding them grew louder.

Finally, Nikli stepped forward and—to Rysn’s immense relief—sat at the table.


Lopen managed—barely—to roll out of the way of the arm that speared down at him. But his foot screamed in pain and flopped awkwardly on the end of his leg, causing him to see stars and blink away tears. So many painspren crawled around him that he could have started a storming parade.