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he could understand them. And who was better to understand than God himself? “Good,” Wayne said, adopting the proper accent. Old-fashioned, but Terris. Like Harmony. He dropped his speed bubble and gathered his power. “Hold on to your robes, my dear friend. This is going to be unlike anything you have seen before, I th... |
he’d thought he was getting slow because of old age. Heh. He slammed into the third barrel and dumped the rest of the canteen’s water out into it. He Pushed it, then turned, gazing out at all three barrels hanging motionless in time. He was going so fast, only the first one was exploding, and that because he’d taken th... |
slowly fade. A moment ago, that explosion had been like a momentary sun on the horizon, magnificent and ominous all at once, blazing through the mists. Now, in seconds, all that remained were the afterimage and the faint ringing in her ears. The governor peeked up over the rooftop’s stone railing, where he’d ducked at ... |
persist a short time, but will soon join the Beyond.” “Good, good.” “You don’t find that idea concerning?” “Hell no,” Wayne said. “I already done gone and died. That was the part that I worried would hurt.” He gaped down at the planet below. “It’s so big.” “Yes, Wayne,” Harmony said. “I realize that a person might beco... |
could he ask? What … Then he grinned. That was perfect. “I’m gonna assume Wax and them will be fine,” Wayne said. “You already promised that. So I ain’t going to waste a question on them. And you can’t trick me into doing so. You’ll take care of them. I know you will.” “To the best of my ability,” Harmony said. “Good. ... |
Wayne said, laying down his hand. “I play three eights on the back of the nines. You win.” “But…” another of the men said, “you know our hands … Why would you play it that way?” “Gotta pretend I can’t see your cards, friends,” Wayne said. “Otherwise, where’s the sport in it? Cheatin’s one thing, but if I can just see w... |
when you don’t have enough rope.” He nodded to the side, and the two of them stepped away to talk in private. “That’s a lot of captives, Marasi, and shoelaces aren’t going to hold them real well. Any moment now, one of them will pop out a knife I missed—or worse, a gun. So…” “Instant Backup?” she asked. “Rusts, I love ... |
One day, the men of gold and red, bearers of the final metal, will come to you. And you will be ruled by them. She touched the trellium spike in her pocket. The ash comes again, the Cycle had said today. That couldn’t be true. The Catacendre had marked the death and rebirth of the world. Ashfalls were a thing of myths ... |
I smell. But yes. We need to talk to Waxillium.” About more than just the spikes. About glowing red eyes, and cryptic deaths. You will get what you deserve, and all will wither beneath a cloud of blackness and a blanket of burned bodies made ash. She left the scene to the other constables, following Wayne as he led the... |
agreed—to be held so that no nation could control them or their power. If you need to be reminded.” They were silent for a few moments, staring at one another. “I am Admiral Daal,” the man said—sounding reluctant. “Welcome to my former ship, Blessed Thief.” “Former?” Wax asked. “I’ve been chosen to be the new ambassado... |
in, the electric light flickering on inside. “It’s so small. Like it’s made for me!” “Quickly, son,” Wax said. Max closed the door and hummed softly as he did his business. Wax stood with the admiral, feeling awkward. He actually found himself wishing for Wayne, who had a way of breaking tension like this—by creating a... |
him, saying no more. But rusts, if tensions were getting worse … This is the absolute worst time, Wax thought with frustration. With the Supremacy Bill passed, there was a real chance the Basin would crumble as a political entity. How would the South respond to that? Daal said he didn’t want war, but what if the South ... |
off layers of skin as a punishment for drinking it. He did still miss good Roughs beers though. “Well, I do have some potentially good news,” Steris said, slipping a letter out of her pocket—she refused to wear skirts without them, no matter how fashionable they were. “It came while you were away.” He slipped the card ... |
the air. Today they would be quaint compared to the city’s dominating skyscrapers. The monoliths of modernity. Kelsier didn’t see quite as he once had. One eye saw as a mortal, the other as an immortal. His spiked eye not only pinned his soul to his bones, but gave him a constant overlay of blue, letting him see the wo... |
simple act of trying to breed Allomancers … it leads to darkness, Kell. Trying to create perfect people through forced breeding? You don’t have to be Terris to find that idea nauseating.” “Perhaps Ruin and Preservation should have thought about that before giving genetically derived powers to only part of the populatio... |
“Shadesmar—” “Is unreliable,” Kelsier said. “I know you’re barely able to get the kandra out into the wider cosmere; it’s untenable for large-scale travel. Besides, crossing it anymore is like walking into the hands of various gods who absolutely want us dead. There’s got to be a better way.” “What are you proposing?” ... |
people who Marasi and the others had saved—especially the journalists and politicians who TwinSoul had escorted out—would prove vital. It felt wrong to leave the lord mayor and his remaining accomplices in the hands of a constabulary department that had up until recently answered to him. But honestly, Marasi wasn’t cer... |
As they embraced, she felt grief welling up to destroy her. She … she wouldn’t accept it. She wouldn’t believe he was gone. He’d … he’d survived worse than this. She would come home one day and he’d be sitting in her kitchen helping himself to the chocolate. And if that never happened? I can’t deal with that right now,... |
was the sort of thing that would fuel broadsheet stories for decades. She strolled toward her destination. Savoring the scents—good and bad, but always potent—the sounds, the feel of a city so alive that even a disaster couldn’t stop it. The Ghostblood base in Elendel was more ostentatious than the one in Bilming. A gr... |
“It is not an invitation,” Kelsier added, “that we extend lightly.” So here it was. The question. Did she accept? Lately, she’d wanted so badly to do something more. Every glimpse she got of the larger conflicts—the larger cosmere—made her want to see it in full. Like a woman peeking at a sunset through a slit in the w... |
law. Things that you, I believe, have historically had a problem with, Survivor. I appreciate your help on this mission. I’d accept it again in the future.” She shook her head. “But I’m not a good match for your organization. I won’t keep secrets when the truth could save lives.” She needed to know what was hidden here... |
Kelsier told him. “Very good work, old friend. We almost lost everything.” TwinSoul bowed his head in acceptance of the praise. It felt good. You are blessed, Silajana said in his mind. And worthy of commendation. That felt even better. “It should never have gotten this far,” Kelsier said. “Something is wrong with Saze... |
us.macmillan.com/newslettersignup For email updates on the author, click here. Thank you for buying this Tom Doherty Associates ebook. To receive special offers, bonus content, and info on new releases and other great reads, sign up for our newsletters. Or visit us online at us.macmillan.com/newslettersignup For email ... |
like the hole in someone’s neck, red from the inside and spurting out light like blood and fire. His ma had to go dig at the beast’s insides, searchin’ for metals, then escape its anger. You could only get lucky so many times. Then he spotted it. Light. With relief, he glanced out the window and saw someone walking alo... |
what don’t belong to you, Wayne. That’s somethin’ thieves do.” “I don’t wanna be a thief,” Wayne said softly, putting the pocketknife on the table beside the cards. “I want to be a good boy. It just … happens.” She hugged him closer. “You are a good boy. You’ve always been a good boy.” When she said it, he believed it.... |
got to go, but you hold it in too long.” “You know that because…” “Dug told me.” “Of course he did. Well, Jak, he wouldn’t stand for stealing from the common folk of the Roughs. Being a bandit is one thing, but everyone knows you take the money what goes toward the city. “Unfortunately, Blatant Barm, he knew the area r... |
‘Canyon of Death’ unless it’s pretty. But somebody visited it, ’cuz we know the name. So it must be pretty.” “Beautiful,” Ma said. “A canyon carved through the middle of a bunch of crumbling rock spires—the broken peaks streaked with colors, like they was painted that way. But the place was as deadly as it was beautifu... |
himself a lump in Blatant Barm’s throat, so the monster couldn’t breathe. Monsters like that needs lotsa air, you know. And so, Allomancer Jak done choked Barm from the inside. Then, when the monster was dead on the ground, Jak sauntered out down its tongue—like it was some fancy mat set outside a carriage for a rich m... |
supposed to be her time to gripe. That was how a relationship worked. Push and Pull. She’d given. Now she could take a little. Now she could … “What the hell?” she asked as the car came to a stop outside her shop. A little place on a small plot of land—which had been expanded somehow to a very large place on a small pl... |
she said gently. “Stayed with him to die? He knew what he needed to do.” Wax looked to her, and she saw the same pain in his eyes that she’d seen after Lessie’s second death. Tempered this time, but haunting nonetheless. She hated seeing him in pain. It happened far too often. “I should have at least said goodbye,” Wax... |
notebook. “I think…” Wax said. “I think I’m going to be all right.” “Good,” she said, flipping a few pages. “I have a Wayne quote for the moment.” “A what?” “I figured,” she said, “it would be a way of remembering him. To keep a few appropriate lines handy. Is that … morbid? That’s morbid, isn’t it? I’m sorry.” “No,” h... |
a new vice governor, now that he’d formally fired Adawathwyn. Surely he wouldn’t … Dear Steris Harms Ladrian, I would like to meet with you and discuss a possible appointment in my government. Considering your invaluable service during the recent crisis— Oh no. Oh no. Not that. —I have decided to ask you to accept a po... |
read, then noticed a second, smaller inscription plaque at the bottom, near the base. Wax winced as she read this one too. “‘Ain’t no fellow who regretted giving it one extra shake,’” she read, “‘but you can bet every guy has regretted giving one too few.’ I can’t believe you used that quote.” “The lower plaque can be ... |
money to keep this joke going for a long, long time. And, well, things like the frog were aggravating. And endearing. Both at once. Just like Wayne had been. “Are you ready for your trip, Marasi?” Steris asked. Marasi grimaced. “Physically? Yes. We’re packed. But mentally? Emotionally?” “You’ll do wonderfully,” Steris ... |
wouldn’t come to that. Hopefully. If only he could figure out who had drained the Bands … Don’t go down that path, he thought. Yet if he didn’t ask those kinds of questions, who was he? Lawman? Father? Senator? Questions were part of who he was. He just wished he knew for certain that the choice was his. Though, as he ... |
because of the spike. But he had—by Wax’s request—vowed never to do so, unless asked. He said he wouldn’t even watch. The spike, though, continued to perpetuate a problem. Who was Wax? Father, lawman, senator? Or was he none of the three? A part of him still worried, after all these years, that he was something else en... |
four different individuals and the editorial eyes of a whole host of people, not to mention the teams at Tor who do production, publicity, marketing, and everything else a major book needs in order to be successful. For some two decades now, the Stormlight Archive has been my dream—the story I always wished I could tel... |
now, I met a man named Isaác Stewart who—in addition to being an aspiring writer—was an excellent artist, particularly when it came to things like maps and symbols. I started collaborating with him on books (starting with Mistborn) and he eventually set me up on a blind date with a woman named Emily Bushman—whom I subs... |
her. Thank you all for making my world one of magic. CONTENTS Endpaper Title Page Copyright Notice Dedication Acknowledgments Prologue: To Question Part One: Alight 1. Santhid 2. Bridge Four 3. Pattern 4. Taker of Secrets 5. Ideals 6. Terrible Destruction 7. Open Flame 8. Knives in the Back • Soldiers on the Field 9. W... |
SIX YEARS AGO Jasnah Kholin pretended to enjoy the party, giving no indication that she intended to have one of the guests killed. She wandered through the crowded feast hall, listening as wine greased tongues and dimmed minds. Her uncle Dalinar was in the full swing of it, rising from the high table to shout for the P... |
scholarly thoughts felt like a lie compared to the truth of her cold, clammy skin and the sweat trickling down the back of her neck. But it was important to be rational at all times, not just when calm. She forced herself out through the doors, leaving the muggy room for the quiet hallway. She’d chosen the back exit, c... |
insisted upon an accommodation. “I should return to the celebration,” Gavilar said, motioning to Tearim. The two moved along the hallway toward the doors Jasnah had left. “Father?” Jasnah said. “What is it you aren’t telling me?” He glanced back at her, lingering. Pale green eyes, evidence of his good birth. When had h... |
through a dark sky. She was no longer in the palace; she was somewhere else—another land, another time, another . . . something. She was left with the sight of the dark, lustrous figure hovering in the air above, seeming satisfied as he resheathed his sword. Jasnah crashed into something—an ocean of the glass beads. Co... |
shoulders, arms, until finally she exploded from the surface of the sea of glass, hurling a spray of beads into a dark sky. She knelt on a platform of glass made up of small beads locked together. She held her hand to the side, uplifted, clutching the sphere that was the guide. Others rolled around her, forming into th... |
The grand lesson of history, and . . . Storms! Her appointment. Cursing to herself, she hurried on her way. That experience continued to distract her, but she needed to make her meeting. So she continued down two floors, getting farther from the sounds of the thrumming Parshendi drums until she could hear only the shar... |
for one of my sister-in-law’s maids to be released. You will apply for the position, using faked credentials I assume you are capable of producing. You will be hired. “From there, you watch and report. I will tell you if your other services are needed. You move only if I say. Understood?” “You’re the one payin’,” Liss ... |
other assassins Jasnah dealt with. A repeat customer was always more valuable than a one-off contract, and it was in the best interests of a woman like Liss to have a friend in the government. Jasnah’s family was safe from the likes of these. Unless she herself employed the assassins, of course. Jasnah let out a deep s... |
drums had sounded, screams suddenly rose. Oh no . . . Jasnah turned with alarm, then grabbed her skirt and ran as hard as she could. A dozen different potential disasters raced through her mind. What else could happen on this broken night, when shadows stood up and her father looked upon her with suspicion? Nerves stre... |
wraps for both men and women, sashes at the waist, loose shirts with no sleeves. Hanging vests, open at the sides, woven in bright colors. They didn’t segregate clothing by gender. She thought they did by caste, however, and— Stop it, she thought at herself. Stop thinking like a scholar for one storming day! “We take r... |
three of the Parshendi leaders—had covered the flight of the larger portion of their number. They escaped the city quickly, and the cavalry Dalinar sent after them were destroyed. A hundred horses, each nearly priceless, lost along with their riders. The Parshendi leaders said nothing more and gave no clues, even when ... |
ears—scrambled to help, snatching sheets from the air before they could blow overboard. “You all right, young miss?” Tozbek asked, looking over from a conversation with one of his mates. The short, portly Tozbek wore a wide sash and a coat of gold and red matched by the cap on his head. He wore his eyebrows up and stif... |
that, and wider. Shallan stood, squinting, as it drew closer. It turned out to be a domed brown-green shell, about the size of three rowboats lashed together. As they passed by, the shell came up alongside the ship and somehow managed to keep pace, sticking up out of the water perhaps six or eight feet. A santhid! Shal... |
but you got me good! I . . .” He trailed off as she met his eyes. “Storms. You’re serious.” “I’ll not have another opportunity like this. Naladan chased these things for most of her life and never got a good look at one.” “This is insanity!” “No, this is scholarship! I don’t know what kind of view I can get through the... |
her cheeks. “Young miss,” Tozbek said, “you want to go swimming? Can’t you wait until we get into port? I know of some nice areas where the water is not nearly so cold.” “I won’t be swimming,” Shallan said, blushing further. What would she wear to go swimming with men about? Did people really do that? “I need to get a ... |
was pretty. Lush of figure, tan of skin. Immaculate eyebrows, lips painted a deep red, hair up in a fine braid. Though Jasnah was twice Shallan’s age, her mature beauty was something to be admired, even envied. Why did the woman have to be so perfect? Jasnah ignored the eyes of the sailors. It wasn’t that she didn’t no... |
young men working without their shirts on. You expected this to help your concentration?” Shallan blushed, as Jasnah stopped at one sheet of paper in the stack. Shallan sat patiently—she’d been well trained in that by her father—until Jasnah turned it toward her. The picture of Shadesmar, of course. “You have respected... |
make of it. I shall have to accompany you there several times before you can understand, even a little, the true significance of the place.” Jasnah grimaced at the thought. Shallan was always surprised to see visible emotion from her. Emotion was something relatable, something human—and Shallan’s mental image of Jasnah... |
of human intervention. “Think of a man who gets angry often. Think of how his friends and family might start referring to that anger as a beast, as a thing that possesses him, as something external to him. Humans personify. We speak of the wind as if it has a will of its own. “Spren are those ideas—the ideas of collect... |
danger, and so they return to us. Our attention now must turn to the Shattered Plains and the relics of Urithiru. It will be a long, long time before you return to your homeland.” Shallan nodded mutely. “This worries you,” Jasnah said. “Yes, Brightness. My family . . .” Shallan felt like a traitor in abandoning her bro... |
longer. Have them tell the truth, if they must—that you, knowing I was a scholar, came to me and asked me to fix the Soulcaster. Perhaps that will sate them for now.” “Thank you, Brightness.” Storms. If she’d just gone to Jasnah in the first place, after being accepted as her ward, how much easier would it have been? S... |
I will let Navani know you are amenable to the engagement, and we should have a causal in place within the day.” A causal—a conditional betrothal, in Vorin terminology. She would be, for all intents and purposes, engaged, but would have no legal footing until an official betrothal was signed and verified by the ardents... |
me to pieces,” Shallan said. “The Alethi court. It’s the most ferocious in the world.” Jasnah snorted. “It’s more bluster than storm, Shallan. I will train you.” “I’ll never be like you, Brightness. You have power, authority, wealth. Just look how the sailors respond to you.” “Am I specifically using said power, author... |
the railing. How did the sailors regard her? They smiled, they waved. They liked her. Yalb, who hung lazily from the rigging nearby, called to her, telling her that in the next port, there was a statue she had to go visit. “It’s this giant foot, young miss. Just a foot! Never finished the blustering statue . . .” She s... |
to allow or disallow, Captain. Stop the ship. Lower me down. That is your order.” She tried to say it as forcefully as Jasnah would. The woman could make it seem easier to resist a full highstorm than to disagree with her. Tozbek worked his mouth for a moment, no sound coming out, as if his body were trying to continue... |
her waist and floating on the water’s surface as she submerged. She wrestled with the fabric for a moment, glad the men above couldn’t see her blushing. Once it got wetter, though, it was easier to manage. She finally was able to squat, still holding tightly to the rope, and go down into the water up to her waist. Then... |
fingers on a cloak he knew hung from a hook there. In the darkness, he could not make out its deep blue color, nor the Kholin glyph—in the shape of Dalinar’s sigil—on the back. It seemed that every change in his life had been marked by a storm. This was a big one. He shoved open the door and stepped out into the light ... |
immediate flare of anger at thoughts of Amaram and what he’d done. His slave brand seemed to burn again on his forehead. Amaram and Sadeas. Two men in Kaladin’s life who would, at some point, need to pay for the things they’d done. Preferably, that payment would come with severe interest. Kaladin continued to walk with... |
continuing on back toward Bridge Four. “The ones who joined us at the fire last night, for a start. Teft, I’ll need you to choose others. Organize and combine crews, then pick forty men—two from each team—to be trained first. You’ll be in command of that training. Those forty will be the seed we use to help the rest.” ... |
for a real life,” Kaladin said. “Bodyguards, not conscripted labor. Free men, despite the brands on our foreheads. Nobody else will give us that. If we want freedom, we need to keep Dalinar Kholin alive.” “And the Assassin in White?” Skar asked softly. They’d heard of what the man was doing around the world, slaughteri... |
Moash and Skar . . .” He glanced toward the two men. One short, the other tall, they walked the same way, with a smooth gait, dangerous, spears always on their shoulders. They were never without. Of all the men he’d trained in Bridge Four, only these two had instinctively understood. They were killers. Like Kaladin him... |
sat stubbornly until Kaladin drew out the proper glyphs for the tattooist—a calm, sturdy darkeyed woman who looked like she could have lifted a bridge all on her own. She settled down on her stool and began adding the two glyphs to Hobber’s forehead, tucked right below the freedom glyph. She spent the process explainin... |
didn’t say much, and Kaladin didn’t know what to make of the man. It was actually easy to forget about him, usually trailing along silently at the back of the group of bridgemen. Invisible. Parshmen were often that way. Shen finished, only Kaladin himself remained. He sat down next and closed his eyes. The pain of the ... |
camp, but he wanted them to get used to the idea that they were free to carry weapons now. The market outside was crowded and vibrant. The tents, of course, would have been taken down and stowed during last night’s highstorm, but they’d already sprung up again. Perhaps because he was thinking about Shen, he noticed the... |
than Soulcast rock, allowing far more finesse in design. Such buildings were becoming more common in the warcamps, as more masons arrived. Soulcasting was quicker, but also more expensive and less flexible. He didn’t know much about it, only that Soulcasters were limited in what they could do. That was why the barracks... |
whispered, buckling his belt. “Don’t know that I deserve to wear something like this again.” “This is what you are, Teft,” Kaladin said. “Don’t let the slave rule you.” Teft grunted, affixing his combat knife in its place on his belt. “And you, son? When are you going to admit what you are?” “I have.” “To us. Not to ev... |
to find it offensive. Kaladin had little experience with low-dahn lighteyes like Rind, though they were very common in the warcamps. In his hometown, there had only been the citylord’s family—of upper-middle dahn—and the darkeyes. It hadn’t been until he’d reached Amaram’s army that he’d realized there was an entire sp... |
pattern was the same one that she’d seen before, the shape that had appeared on her sketchpad. Ever since then, she’d been seeing it from the corner of her eye, appearing in the grain of wood, the cloth on the back of a sailor’s shirt, the shimmering of the water. Each time, when she looked right at it, the pattern van... |
of tiny lines. It was like a maze created to drive its captive insane. When she finished the last line, she found herself breathing hard, as if she’d run a great distance. She blinked, again noticing the creationspren around her—there were hundreds. They lingered before fading away one by one. Shallan set the pen down ... |
to prod at the pattern on the floor. It shied away, like an animal that had been poked. Shallan was fascinated by how it raised the surface of the floor, though a part of her did not want to have anything to do with it and its unnatural, eye-twisting geometries. “Yes,” Jasnah said. The inklike spren that had accompanie... |
.” It climbed up the wall, then slipped down, then climbed back up, then slipped down again. “Imbecilic?” Shallan asked. “Perhaps it simply needs more time,” Jasnah said. “When I first bonded with Ivory—” She stopped abruptly. “What?” Shallan said. “I’m sorry. He does not like me to speak of him. It makes him anxious. ... |
groups. Those that respond to emotions and those that respond to forces like fire or wind pressure.” “So you believe Namar’s theory on spren categorization?” “Yes.” “Good,” Jasnah said. “As do I. I suspect, personally, that these groupings of spren—emotion spren versus nature spren—are where the ideas of mankind’s prim... |
of land anywhere. It’s dusk, though, so I can’t see much. “People run with me. I don’t know if we’re running toward something or away from it. Nothing over my shoulder that I can see. These people are obviously soldiers, though the uniforms are antiquated. Leather skirts, bronze helms and breastplates. Bare legs and ar... |
any different from his normal self. The others, however, would see him as one of their own. He still didn’t know terribly much about these visions. The Almighty sent them to him, somehow. But the Almighty was dead, by his own admission. So how did that work? “We’re looking for something,” Dalinar said, under his breath... |
then dove downward in the water, vanishing into the rocky ground. Dalinar stopped, uncertain if he should keep chasing the smaller one or remain here. The others turned and started to run the other way. Uh-oh . . . Dalinar scrambled back as the rocky lake bottom began to shake. He stumbled, splashing down into the wate... |
arrived. I did not teach my Heralds this. It was the spren—wishing to imitate what I had given men—who made it possible. You will need to refound them. This is your task. Unite them. Create a fortress that can weather the storm. Vex Odium, convince him that he can lose, and appoint a champion. He will take that chance ... |
out the storm nearby, in another room of Dalinar’s quarters and under the watchful eyes of Captain Kaladin and his bridgeman bodyguards. Perhaps he should invite more scholars in to observe his visions; they could all write down his words, then consult to produce the most accurate version. But storms, he had enough tro... |
must have been difficult to break. Storms . . . Shardblades. Makes me wonder if these are the things the weapons were truly designed to fight.” Navani smiled as she wrote. “What?” Dalinar asked, stopping in his pacing. “You are such a soldier.” “Yes. And?” “And it’s endearing,” she said, finishing her writing. “What ha... |
If the Almighty died, then he was never God, that’s all.” She sighed, still close to him. She went up on her toes and kissed him—and not demurely, either. Navani considered demureness for the coy and frivolous. So, a passionate kiss, pressing against his mouth, pushing his head backward, hungering for more. When she pu... |
is good at what she does,” Navani said softly, “but she’s a little oblivious sometimes. Anyway, she knows handwriting better than anyone. It’s one of her many areas of interest.” Dalinar nodded, bottling his fears. “Why would anyone do this?” Adolin asked, dropping the rock. “Is it some kind of obscure threat?” “No,” D... |
who made it, but I know what it means.” “What, then?” Navani demanded. “It means we have very little time left,” Dalinar said. “Send out the proclamation, then go to the highprinces and arrange a meeting. They’ll want to speak with me.” The Everstorm comes. . . . Sixty-two days. Not enough time. It was, apparently, all... |
said, ladling up curry for Lopen, who had come back for seconds. “Discontent? Today, this will mean riots. Did you not hear that mention of the Codes? This thing, it is an insult against the others, whom we know do not follow their oaths.” He was smiling, and seemed to consider the anger—even rioting—of the highprinces... |
your powers.” “I suppose I did.” “We need to know exactly what you can do, sir—the extent of the abilities, the length of time the Stormlight remains in you. Do you agree that having a clear understanding of your limits would be valuable?” “Yes,” Kaladin said reluctantly. “Excellent. Then . . .” “Give me a couple of da... |
widows. I guess I don’t feel like laughing.” “But things are better,” she said. “For you and your men. Think of what you did, what you accomplished.” A day spent on a plateau, slaughtering. A perfect melding of himself, his weapon, and the storms themselves. And he’d killed with it. Killed to protect a lighteyes. He’s ... |
the poison having not quite done its work. Worse, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Dalinar had gotten the better of him somehow. The door to his sitting room opened, and Ialai slipped in. With a slender neck and a large mouth, his wife had never been described as a beauty—particularly as the years stretched long. He ... |
alienate the others. He will push the highprinces, and they’ll take up arms against him, fracturing the kingdom. And then, with blood at my feet and Dalinar’s own sword in my hand, I will forge a new Alethkar from flame and tears.” “What if, instead, he succeeds?” “That, my dear, is when your assassins will be of use.”... |
Moash snapped from behind. “We can show you. Personally.” “Hush,” Kaladin said, glaring at Moash. He turned back to the soldier. “I got lucky. That’s it.” He stared the man in the eyes. “I suppose that makes sense,” the soldier said. Kaladin waited. “Sir,” the soldier finally added. Kaladin waved his men forward, and t... |
and his team at the door into the king’s conference chambers. “Report?” Kaladin asked softly. “Quiet morning,” Skar said. “And I’m fine with that.” “You’re relieved for the day, then,” Kaladin said. “I’ll stay here for the meeting, then let Moash take the afternoon shift. I’ll come back for the evening shift. You and y... |
had the opportunity,” Dalinar said, studying Kaladin with eyes that had a depth behind them. A weight. He stepped over and rested a hand on Kaladin’s shoulder, pulling him aside. “Wait,” the king said from behind, “is that a captain’s insignia? On a darkeyes? When did that start happening?” Dalinar didn’t answer, inste... |
woman in the market, though, Kaladin thought, remembering the encounter from weeks ago. Don’t forget about that. Kaladin wasn’t sure what to make of Renarin. The youth—he might have been older than Kaladin, but sure didn’t look it—wore spectacles and walked after his brother like a shadow. Those slender limbs and delic... |
leave it there until you could find a surgeon. Often it would plug the blood flow and keep you alive. It was probably best not to speak up and undermine the highprince’s metaphor, however. “Storms, what a ghastly image,” the king said, wiping his face with a handkerchief. “Do you have to say such things, Uncle? I alrea... |
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