Dawnshard (The Stormlight Archive, #3.5)(55)

“The spren guided us,” Cord said. “This thing was the gods’ will.”

“The force inside my mind asked me to choose,” Rysn said. “It wanted me to accept it, whatever it is.”

“No it did not!” Nikli said. “The Dawnshard isn’t alive. It doesn’t want things. You have stolen it!”

And Rysn knew, or at least felt, he was partially right. It wasn’t a living thing that she’d taken upon herself. It was . . . something else. A Command. It didn’t have a will, and it hadn’t led her here or chosen her.

But Chiri-Chiri had done both.

“Do you see them?” Cord asked, gesturing to the roof of the cavern. “Joining us, watching us? Do you see the gods?”

Rysn took a deep breath, then turned her palms upward again. “It appears,” she said, “that I do have something you want. Shall we continue the negotiations?”

“You are a thief!” Nikli said, his body dropping hordelings as he stepped toward Rysn. “You cannot bargain with stolen goods!”

He reached for Rysn, but Chiri-Chiri reared up and let out another shout. This one was different somehow. Not a tantrum, not just a warning. An ultimatum. Something about the way it resonated in the room made Nikli hesitate.

Think, Rysn. You need to give him something. Many traders tried to sell people a “bargain” they did not want, but that was not the path to a sustainable partnership. You had to give them something they actually needed.

Nikli stepped forward again. Chiri-Chiri growled.

“Do not assume we would not kill an Ancient Guardian if we had to,” Nikli said to her.

“You claim to want to protect this thing,” Rysn said, “but all you threaten to do is destroy.”

“If you knew what the Dawnshard was capable of . . .”

“It’s now inside me. Whatever it is.”

“Fortunately, you would not be able to employ it,” Nikli said. “It is beyond your capacity. But there are those in the cosmere who could use it for terrible acts.”

Rysn glanced at the other two, noting how distressed their hordelings seemed. She heard uncertainty in Nikli’s voice now. And for the first time, she saw them as they truly were.

Terrified.

They were unraveling. They were failing. They clung to a secret that was escaping despite their best efforts. As Vstim had taught her, she saw through their eyes. Felt their fears, their loss, their uncertainty.

“How far you have fallen,” she whispered. “You would murder the very guardians you revere? You would rip the Dawnshard forcibly from the mind of the one who bears it? You would become the things you pretend to defend against.”

Nikli slumped to the ground. His skin split, making him look like a husk.

Don’t give them what they say they want, she thought. Give them what they need.

“You say you fight hidden enemies you cannot locate,” Rysn said. “They could use this thing, but I cannot. It seems to me that the safest place for it is in my mind.”

“How?” Nikli demanded.

“Your secret is escaping, Nikli. You know you can’t hold it in. The storm ever blows, and the walls crack. You furiously plug the leaks, but the entire structure is collapsing. Your lies undermine one another.

“They will come. The ones you fear. How valuable would it be for you to be able to watch and see who they are? What if you could trap them, instead of innocent crews of sailors?”

“Innocent?” Nikli asked. “You came for loot.”

“Salvage,” Rysn said. “It sounds more civilized. Plus, you know that was only a small part of our quest here.”

Nikli thought. “It is too dangerous,” he said. “If our enemies came here, they’d find our secret.”

“Unless it wasn’t here,” Rysn said. “Unless it was somewhere completely unexpected—like in the mind of a random human woman. Who would assume you’d let one leave with something so powerful?

“Nikli, too many people, when they get something valuable, sit on it and sit on it—anticipating the trade they will someday make. They imagine how grand it will be! How much they will earn! In the meantime, they eat scraps. Do you know how many die with that nest egg, never spent, never used?

“What you want—the safeguarding of this mystery—is possible, but you need to be active. You need to make a trade, build alliances, and identify your enemies. Sitting here, hoping to simply hold on so tightly . . . it won’t work. Trust me, Nikli. Sometimes you need to accept what you’ve lost, then move forward. Then you can instead realize what you’ve gained.”

He slumped, but many of the hordelings looked at her. It was unnerving, yet it seemed promising.

“Nikli,” Rysn whispered. “Remember what I taught you. About coming to know the sailors. About the hazing. Not a perfect solution . . .”

“But instead an imperfect solution,” he whispered, “for an imperfect world.” He remained like a husk, but his hordelings started buzzing to the other two swarms.

After a long time of buzzing back and forth, Nikli spoke.

“What would it take,” he said, “to make this deal?”

“Not much. I can tell the story exactly as it happened, but leave out that mural. Cord and I swam down here, found the Plate and Soulcasters. You were going to attack us, to protect these treasures, but you were impressed by Chiri-Chiri—one of the Ancient Guardians of this place.