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look up at me tied here. Tell them I’ll open my eyes and look back at them, and they’ll know that I survived.” The three bridgemen fell silent. “Yes, of course, Kaladin,” Teft said. “We’ll do it.” “Tell them,” Kaladin continued, voice firmer, “that it won’t end here. Tell them I chose not to take my own life, and so th...
straight on, though it terrified him. He felt the same panic he’d felt looking down into the black chasm, back when he’d nearly killed himself. It was the fear of what he could not see, what he could not know. The stormwall approached, the visible curtain of rain and wind at the advent of a highstorm. It was a massive ...
a thud. Almost immediately, the terrible winds tried to lift him again, pounding his skin with waves of icy water. Thunder crashed, the heartbeat of the beast that had swallowed him. Lighting split the darkness like white teeth in the night. The wind was so loud it nearly drowned out the thunder; howling and moaning. “...
feel them slipping. The next he knew, he was whipping in the air again, tossed to the side, being slammed down against the roof of the barrack. He hit hard. His vision flashed with sparkling lights that melded together and were followed by blackness. Not unconsciousness, blackness. Kaladin blinked. All was still. The s...
But, then, he hated a lot of things. For a while, life had been looking up. Not now. How did everything go so wrong so quickly? he thought, holding his arms close, walking slowly and watching his feet. Some soldiers had left their barracks and stood nearby, wearing raincloaks, watching. Probably to make certain nobody ...
when he should be dead. Two impossibilities. Together they bespoke something that should be even more impossible. “Where’s that ladder!” Teft found himself yelling. “Curse you all, hurry, hurry! We need to get him bandaged. Somebody go fetch that salve he always puts on wounds!” He glanced back at Kaladin, then spoke m...
we understood about our gentle servants. Shallan moved her eyes down to the bottom of the page where—separated by a line—the undertext was written in a small, cramped script. Most books dictated by men had an undertext, notes added by the woman or ardent who scribed the book. By unspoken agreement, the undertext was ne...
you would give me a useful answer.” “Then ask a useful question.” Shallan set her jaw. “What did the Parshendi have that King Gavilar wanted?” Jasnah smiled, closing her eyes again. “Closer. But you can probably guess the answer to that.” “Shards.” Jasnah nodded, still relaxed in the water. “The text doesn’t mention th...
swap would be easy. She had used a large chunk of her money to buy gemstones that matched Jasnah’s, and had put them into the broken Soulcaster. The two were now exactly identical. She still hadn’t learned anything about using the fabrial; she’d tried to find a way to ask, but Jasnah avoided speaking of the Soulcaster....
morality must be considered, and preferably before one is exposed to situations where a moral decision is required.” “Yes, Brightness. Though I fail to see how philosophy is more ‘hands-on’ than history.” “History, by definition, cannot be experienced directly. As it is happening, it is the present, and that is philoso...
back of her hand. “I’ll prove it to you. Come, help me dress.” As a child, Shallan had relished those evenings when she’d been able to slip away into the gardens. When the blanket of darkness rested atop the grounds, they had seemed a different place entirely. In those shadows, she’d been able to imagine that the rockb...
nervously as they passed a group of workers gathered around a tavern doorway. They were darkeyes, of course. In the night, that distinction seemed more profound. “Brightness?” Shallan asked in a hushed tone. “When we are young,” Jasnah said, “we want simple answers. There is no greater indication of youth, perhaps, tha...
was presented to you. But you also cling to the idealism of youth. You feel there must be some single, all-defining Truth—and you think that once you find it, all that once confused you will suddenly make sense.” “I…” Shallan wanted to argue, but Jasnah’s words were tellingly accurate. The terrible things Shallan had d...
the night air, leaving an orange afterimage in Shallan’s eyes. The other three men began to curse, scrambling away, tripping over one another in their panic. One fell. Jasnah turned casually, brushing his shoulder with her fingers as he struggled to his knees. He became crystal, a figure of pure, flawless quartz—his cl...
The issue that Taravangian has been so worried about has been solved, and no more theatergoers will fall to those thugs. How many lives did I just save?” “I know how many you just took,” Shallan said. “And through the power of something that should be holy!” “Philosophy in action. An important lesson for you.” “You did...
said. “Why? They would have been too frightened to do something like that again.” “You don’t know that. I sincerely wanted those men gone. A careless barmaid walking home the wrong way cannot protect herself, but I can. And I will.” “You have no authority to do so, not in someone else’s city.” “True,” Jasnah said. “Ano...
look at this,” Tien said. Late-afternoon sunlight streamed through the leeside window, bathing the table. “From this side, the rock sparkles red, but from the other side, it’s green.” “Perhaps it’s magical,” Hesina said. Chunk after chunk of longroot plunked into the water, each splash with a slightly different note. “...
Kal sighed, but did as she told him. He checked out the window again, and nearly dropped the root in shock. The carriage. It was coming down the roadway from the mansion. He felt a flutter of nervous hesitation. He’d planned, he’d thought, but now that the time was upon him, he wanted to sit and keep peeling. There wou...
to eating longroots. “If you’re going to confront him, then you should have someone to support you.” “And that someone is you?” “I’m pretty much all you have.” The coachman cleared his throat. He didn’t get down and open the door, the way he did for Brightlord Roshone. Lirin eyed Kal. “If you send me back, I’ll go,” Ka...
head. “Stormfather. It sounds more foolish now that I say it.” “No. I understand. I think.” Kal shrugged. “I guess, well, they still come to us when they’re hurt. They complain about how unnatural it is to cut into a person, but they still come. I used to wonder why.” “And did you come to a conclusion?” “Kind of. I dec...
Natir led them to a dining room where Roshone sat at a long darkwood table. He’d gained weight, though not enough to be called fat. He still had that grey-flecked beard, and his hair was greased back down to his collar. He wore white trousers and a tight red vest over a white shirt. He’d already begun his meal, and the...
from the basket and wrapping it around his skewer, pulling off several vegetable chunks at once and eating them with the bread. “Then tell me. How long do you think you can defy me? Your family is destitute.” “We do just fine,” Kal cut in. Lirin glanced at him, but did not chastise him for speaking. “My son is correct....
his meal, as if it had lost any flavor. “Very well. Let us make an…accommodation. I will take nine-tenths of the spheres. You can have the rest.” Kal stood up indignantly. “My father will never—” “Kal,” Lirin cut in. “I can speak for myself.” “Surely you won’t make a deal, though.” Lirin didn’t reply immediately. Final...
Kharbranth. But he’d already decided to become a soldier. So it didn’t matter. Did it? I am going to join the army, Kal thought. I’ll run away, I’ll… Suddenly, that dream—that plan—seemed incredibly childish. It belonged to a boy who ought to eat fruited meals and deserved to be sent away when the men talked of importa...
by you, Rillir Roshone. Just like my father isn’t bullied by yours.” Except, they are making a deal right now…. “Father didn’t mention how amusing you were,” Rillir said, leaning back against the wall. He seemed a decade older than Kal, not a mere two years. “So you find it shameful to fetch a man his meal? Being a sur...
Not fold like…” He hesitated. “Like I did?” Lirin asked with a sigh. Kal bit his lip, but had to ask. “How many spheres did you agree to give him? Will I still have enough to go to Kharbranth?” “I didn’t give him a thing.” “But—” “Roshone and I talked for a time, arguing over amounts. I pretended to grow hotheaded and ...
turned out he was justified. “I can’t believe it.” “Does it change so much?” Lirin whispered. His face looked haunted in the dim light. “What is different now?” “Everything.” “And yet nothing. Roshone still wants those spheres, and we still deserve them. Wistiow, if he’d been fully lucid, would have given us those sphe...
fever, accompanied by cold sweats and hallucinations. Likely cause is infected wounds; clean with antiseptic to ward away rotspren. Keep the subject hydrated. He was back in Hearthstone with his family. Only he was a grown man. The soldier he had become. And he didn’t fit with them anymore. His father kept asking, How ...
few survived after that. Deathspren knew when the end was close. Blistered fingers and toes, caused by frostnip. Make sure to apply antiseptic to any blisters that break. Encourage the body’s natural healing. Permanent damage is unlikely. Standing before the deathspren was a tiny figure of light. Not translucent, as sh...
Skar kept watch currently. The short, strong-faced man sat at Kaladin’s feet. “How is he?” Teft asked. Skar spoke softly. “He seems to be getting worse, Teft. I heard him mumble about dark shapes, thrashing and telling them to keep back. He opened his eyes. He didn’t seem to see me, but he saw something. I swear it.” D...
head to the rock floor, squeezing his eyes shut, tears leaking from their corners. Why now? he thought again. Why here? And, in the name of all heaven, why me? He knelt for a hundred heartbeats, counting, thinking, worrying. Eventually, he pulled himself to his feet and retrieved the spheres—now dun—from Kaladin’s hand...
responsibility from those who had chosen to hurt her. The men’s actions were reprehensible. Shallan had spent the days poring through books on philosophy, and most ethical frameworks exonerated the princess. But Shallan had been there. She’d watched those men die. She’d seen the terror in their eyes, and she felt terri...
ornamented rug and swords on the walls. A long dining table, set with a half-eaten meal. And a dead man in fine clothing, lying face-first on the floor, blood pooling around him. She jumped back, tossing aside the charcoal, then crumpled up the paper. Shaking, she moved over and sat down on the bed among the pictures. ...
about it, Nan Balat. If Jasnah tries the item and finds it broken, she might not immediately decide that she’s been had. That changes if I’ve suddenly and suspiciously left for home. I have to wait until she’s made the discovery, then see what she does next. If she realizes that her fabrial was replaced with a fake, th...
a very good excuse for looking disturbed. Cold, calm logic. Jasnah herself would be proud. A knock came at the door, and Shallan quickly gathered up the conversation she’d had with Nan Balat and burned it in the hearth. A palace maid entered a moment later, carrying a basket in the crook of her arm. She smiled at Shall...
sky as servants and attendants parted around her, swarming in and out of the Conclave. She held her portfolio close, feeling the cool breeze on her cheeks and the contrasting warmth of the sunlight pressing down on her hair and forehead. In the end, the most disturbing part was that Jasnah had been right. Shallan’s wor...
like dust motes zigzagging up, only to fall again. She used a finer-tipped charcoal pencil to scribble some thoughts about the relationship between the animals and the plants. She didn’t know of any books that spoke of relationships like this one. Scholars seemed to prefer studying big, dynamic animals, like greatshell...
frustrated. Nan Balat had asked Luesh how the devices worked, and he’d said that it was easier to show than explain. He’d promised to give them answers if she actually managed to steal Jasnah’s. Now he was dead. Was she doomed to carry this one back to her family, only to immediately give it away to those dangerous men...
once done. They reached the other side of the lumberyard and turned around, charging back. Only when they were almost past the barrack did one of the men in front—Moash—notice Kaladin. He froze, nearly causing the entire bridge crew to trip. “What is wrong with you?” Torfin yelled from behind, head enveloped by the woo...
must have been unconscious for three weeks, at least. How many bridge runs? “Ten days,” Moash said. “Impossible,” Kaladin said. “My wounds—” “Is why we’re so surprised to see you up and walking!” Rock said, laughing. “You must have bones like granite. Is my name you should be having!” Kaladin leaned back against the wa...
crossed to where the bridgemen stood in line, leaders of the sub-squads doing a quick check of their vests and sandals. Rock eyed Kaladin. “And what is this thing you believe you are doing?” “I’m joining you,” Kaladin said. “And what would you tell one of the men if they had just gotten up from a week with the fevers?”...
before understanding them. He would not make that mistake again. Rock stepped up beside Kaladin, joined by Sigzil. The thick-limbed Horneater made for quite a contrast to the short, quiet Azish man. Sigzil’s skin was a deep brown—not true black, like some parshmen’s. He tended to keep to himself. “Is bad battle,” Rock ...
soldiers to approach without being hurt. The Parshendi archers are aiming at the bridgemen.” Rock frowned. “Shields would make us less tempting,” Kaladin said. “That’s why he forbids them.” “Perhaps,” Sigzil said from the side, thoughtful. “But it seems foolish to waste troops.” “Actually, it isn’t foolish,” Kaladin sa...
flamespren dancing on the logs. Every couple of seconds, someone asked Rock if the stew was done yet, often banging on his bowl with a good-natured smack of the spoon. Rock said nothing, stirring. They all knew that nobody ate until he declared the stew finished; he was very particular about not serving “inferior” food...
with their spoons. Maps chuckled, then he reached to the ground behind the stone he was using for a seat. He pulled out a paper-wrapped package and tossed it to Rock. Surprised, the tall Horneater barely caught it, nearly dropping it into the stew. “From all of us,” Maps said, a little awkwardly, “for making us stew ea...
speak like it and you act like it.” Sigzil hesitated. “Yes,” he finally said. “Among my people, it is not a sin for a male to be keen of mind.” “It isn’t a sin for Alethi either.” “My experience is that you care only about wars and the art of killing.” “And what have you seen of us besides our army?” “Not much,” Sigzil...
to die. It is the only reasonable explanation. There is a place in the world. Marabethia. Have you heard of it?” “No,” Kaladin said. “It is beside the sea, to the north, in the Selay lands. The people are known for their great fondness for debate. At each intersection in the city they have small pedestals on which a ma...
man, the look was quite distinctive. “Ha!” Rock said, striding up to the fire. He grabbed the nearest men there and hugged them both to him, causing Bisig to nearly spill his stew. “I will make you all family for this. A peak dweller’s humaka’aban is his pride! I feel like a true man again. Here. This razor belongs not...
scraped off. The eyelid was gone, the blue eye itself sliced open at the front, deflated like the skin of a grape pressed for wine. Kaladin hastened to his father with the bandages. His mother appeared at the doorway a moment later, Tien behind her. She raised a hand to her mouth, then pulled Tien away. He stumbled, lo...
must know when someone is beyond their ability to help. I’m sorry, Roshone. I would save him if I could, I promise you. But I cannot.” “No!” Roshone said, struggling again. “Kaladin! Quickly!” Lirin said. Kaladin dashed over. He pressed the bandage of dazewater to Roshone’s chin and mouth, just below the nose, forcing ...
evening, Kaladin sat on the steps to his house, hands in his lap. Roshone had been returned to his estate to be cared for by his personal servants. His son’s corpse was cooling in the crypt below, and a messenger had been sent to request a Soulcaster for the body. On the horizon, the sun was red as blood. Everywhere Ka...
I may need you when the others return with Alds and Milp.” That wasn’t likely; the two townsmen were probably dead by now. Their wounds were said to be pretty bad. Plus, the whitespines were still out there. Lirin went inside, but didn’t compel Kaladin to follow. Would I have let him die? Kaladin wondered. Maybe even f...
broken, she would lose political power. Or had she realized that hers had been swapped for a different Soulcaster? Could it be, despite all odds, that Jasnah just hadn’t tried to use the Soulcaster? Shallan needed to leave before too long. But if she left before Jasnah discovered the swap, she risked having the woman t...
hurried to her own chamber, then shut the door and took the Soulcaster out of her safepouch. The warm glow of the gemstones bathed her face in white and red light. They were large enough—and therefore bright enough—that it was hard to look at them directly. Each would be worth ten or twenty broams. She’d been forced to...
overworked stonecutter noticing the beautiful grain of the rock and deciding to form a wave pattern for his own personal wonder and sense of beauty. “What are you?” Shallan yelped, sitting up, sketchpad bouncing free of her lap. Someone had whispered those words. She’d heard them distinctly! “Who is there?” she asked. ...
lack of windows. Jasnah’s bed, a four-poster monstrosity, took up half the space. The vanity was against the far wall, and beside it the dressing table from which Shallan had originally stolen the Soulcaster. Other than a dresser, the only other thing in the room was the desk, books piled high on the left side. Shallan...
stern tutors that these were superstition, fabrications of the Lost Radiants, who used tales of monsters to justify their domination of mankind. The ardents taught something else. They spoke of the Lost Radiants—called the Knights Radiant then—fighting off Voidbringers during the war to hold Roshar. According to these ...
wall, acting as an impromptu chaperone. It felt so strange to be out with a man near her own age with only a single parshman in attendance. It felt liberating. Exhilarating. Or maybe that was just the sunlight and the open air. “I’m also terrible at being scholarly,” she said, closing her eyes, breathing deeply. “I lik...
the kind of interest that he, increasingly, did. She liked him—liked talking with him, liked listening to him. It was a wonderful way to break the monotony of study. There was, of course, no prospect for a union. Assuming she could protect her family, she’d be needed to make a good political marriage. Dallying with an ...
thinks you’re getting close to me because you want her Soulcaster,” Shallan blurted out. Then she winced. Idiot! That’s your response when a man hints that he might leave the service of the Almighty in order to be with you? “Brightness Jasnah is quite clever,” Kabsal said, slicing himself another piece of bread. Shalla...
the ardents he knew were lying to protect the secret. “Anyway,” Kabsal said, “I guess that’s a tangent. You asked me about stealing the Soulcaster, and rest assured, I wouldn’t put you in that position. I was foolish to think of it, and I was shortly forbidden to attempt it. I was ordered to care for your soul and see ...
the main reason. The truth was that, despite her occasional complaints, she loved learning to be a scholar. Even after Jasnah’s philosophical training, even after spending days reading book after book. Even with the confusion and the stress, Shallan often felt fulfilled in a way she’d never been before. Yes, Jasnah had...
Shallan cut herself another slice and topped it with jam. Then she opened a book and sighed in satisfaction. In one week, she’d have to leave. But in the meantime, she would let herself pretend a little while longer. Kaladin awoke to a familiar feeling of dread. He’d spent much of the night lying awake on the hard floo...
Matal, is your new captain.” Kaladin held his tongue, biting back a remark. He had some experience with lighteyes who got “promoted” to positions like this one. Matal himself said nothing, simply standing with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He was tall—nearly as tall as Kaladin—but spindly. Delicate hands. ...
work duty. Gaz!” The short bridge sergeant poked out from behind the palanquin. Kaladin hadn’t noticed him there, behind the porters and the soldiers. “Yes, Brightness?” Gaz bowed several times. “My husband wishes Bridge Four to be assigned chasm duty permanently. Whenever they are not needed for bridge duty, I want th...
descend again. “I didn’t fight the soldiers today,” Kaladin said, eyes toward the chasm wall, “because it wouldn’t work. My father told me that it is impossible to protect by killing. Well, he was wrong.” “But—” “He was wrong,” Kaladin said, “because he implied that you could protect people in other ways. You can’t. Th...
been washed into a recess in the rock, a small dead-end side passage in the stone. The bodies were piled there, a wall of the dead, arms hanging out, reeds and flotsam stuck between them. Kaladin saw at a glance that the corpses were old enough to begin bloating and rotting. Behind him, one of the men retched, which ca...
pulling at the boot on a soldier whose fibula looked to have been shattered in three different places. That made it storming awkward to get the boot off. “Well, maybe we will die,” Teft said. “But maybe this isn’t about surviving.” Why was Teft—of all people—trying to cheer him up? “If survival isn’t the point, Teft, t...
other side,” Skar argued. “They were tarnished all along.” Teft took offense at that. The wiry man stood up straight, pointing at Skar. “You don’t know anything! It was too long ago. Nobody knows what really happened.” “Then why do all the stories say the same thing?” Skar demanded. “They abandoned us. Just like the li...
That men should seek life before seeking death? That was obvious. Or did it mean something else? That life came before death? Again, obvious. And yet the simple words spoke to him. Death comes, they whispered. Death comes to all. But life comes first. Cherish it. Death is the destination. But the journey, that is life....
aren’t allowed out without supervision. They know we’d run.” “We’d die,” Moash said, face grim. “We’re miles and miles from civilization. There’s nothing out here but greatshells, and no shelter from highstorms.” “I know,” Kaladin said. “But it’s either this or the Parshendi arrows.” The men fell silent. “They’re going...
Never furious, never passionate like a highstorm. Slow, steady. Like the blood of a dying year that was taking its last few shambling steps toward the cairn. While other seasons of weather came and went unpredictably, the Weeping never failed to return at the same time each year. Unfortunately. Kaladin lay on the slope...
Tien knew the right thing to do. For the moment, that was keeping silent. “You like the rain, don’t you?” Kaladin finally asked him. “Yeah,” Tien said. Of course, Tien liked pretty much everything. “Hard to stare up at like this, though. I keep blinking.” For some reason, that made Kaladin smile. “I made you something,...
to the stone there; the small two-shelled creatures proliferated during the Weeping. They seemed to grow out of nowhere, much like their cousins the tiny snails, scattered all across the stone. “What are you two talking about?” she asked, walking up and sitting down with them. Hesina rarely acted like the other mothers...
shroud of rain, he could just make out the tents of the army camped on the field below. What would it be like to live as a soldier, often exposed to storms and rain, to winds and tempests? Once Kaladin would have been intrigued, but the life of a spearman had no call for him now. His mind was filled with diagrams of mu...
just want you to know that you can choose.” They sat like that for some time, letting rainwater soak them. Kaladin kept searching those grey clouds, wondering what it was that Tien found so interesting in them. Eventually, he heard splashing below, and Lirin’s face appeared at the side of the house. “What in the…” he s...
of these people around. Up on the roof, it had been fresh and clean. Now it seemed muggy and humid. The carriage door opened. Roshone had gained more weight, and his lighteyes’s suit had been retailored to fit his increased girth. He wore a wooden peg on his right stump, hidden by the cuff of his trouser, and his gait ...
to quiet the crowd, and soon the only sound was that of the soft rain. “Brightlord Amaram,” Roshone said, nodding to the lighteyed man in the uniform, “is absendiar highmarshal of our princedom. He is in command of defending our borders while the king and Brightlord Sadeas are away.” Kaladin nodded. Everyone knew of Am...
But when Kaladin didn’t make any moves forward, he relaxed. “Very well,” Amaram said, nodding to Roshone. “We will need your list after all.” “List?” Lirin asked loudly. Amaram glanced at him. “The need of our army is great, darkborn. I will take volunteers first, but the army must be replenished. As citylord, my cousi...
eyes were on Lirin, standing with his arm in the grip of the lighteyed general, locking his gaze with Roshone. “I’ll make the lad a runner boy for a year or two,” Amaram promised. “He won’t be in combat. It is the best I can do. Every body is needed in these times.” Lirin slumped, then bowed his head. Roshone laughed, ...
clutched Tien again. “Father!” Kaladin said, turning, amazed at how confident he felt. Lirin paused, standing in the rain, one foot in a puddle where rainspren clustered. They inched away from him like vertical slugs. “In four years, I will bring him home safely,” Kaladin said. “I promise it by the storms and the Almig...
one of the scholars who had accompanied the king. Shallan flipped through the pages, searching for a specific passage. It was a description of the very first Parshendi hunting party they encountered. It happened after we set up beside a deep river in a heavily wooded area. It was an ideal location for a long-term camp,...
I felt I really connected with my father.” Shallan bit her lip. “Jasnah,” she finally asked. “Why did you assign me to research this event? You lived through this; you already know everything I’m ‘discovering.’” “I feel a fresh perspective may be of value.” Jasnah put down her book, looking over at Shallan. “I don’t in...
Radiants, and therefore with the first major failure of Vorinism. Much of what we know about the city comes from fragments of lost works quoted by classical scholars. Many of those classical works have, themselves, survived only in pieces. Indeed, the single complete work we have from early years is The Way of Kings, a...
seemed more mischievous than evil. But then there would be the odd story about a Voidbringer taking on the form of a wayward traveler who—after receiving kindness from a tallew farmer—would slaughter the entire family, drink their blood, then write voidish symbols across the walls in black ash. Most people in the citie...
twice in a row?” “Innocent, as in the opposite of sophisticated.” She grimaced. “Otherwise, they’d have been more convincing lies. Come. Walk with me while I fetch Tifandor. If we hurry, I won’t have to lie to Jasnah.” “Fair enough,” he said, joining her and strolling around the perimeter of the Palanaeum. The hollow i...
Hierocracy and the fall of the Lost Radiants are our shame.” He held up his deep blue lantern. Shallan strolled at his side, curious, letting him just talk. “We believe that the Voidbringers were real, Shallan. A scourge and a plague. A hundred times they came upon mankind. First casting us from the Tranquiline Halls, ...
of shelves. She stopped at the correct one, handed her lantern to Kabsal, then walked down the aisle and plucked the biography off the shelf. Kabsal followed her, holding up the lanterns. “There’s more to this,” Shallan said. “Otherwise, Jasnah wouldn’t be digging so hard.” “I can tell you why she’s doing it,” he said....
really not that important—” “Yes it is,” she said, grabbing his hand, towing him along the walkway. “I left my drawing things up above. Come on.” She hurried him to the lift, instructing the parshmen to carry them up. As the lift began to rise, Kabsal looked at her hand in his. She dropped it hastily. “You’re a very co...
If he left the ardentia, he’d be demoted to tenth dahn, almost as low as a darkeyes. He’d be without money or house, in almost as bad a position as her family. Her family. What would her brothers say if she brought a virtual stranger back with her? Another man to become part of their problems, privy to their secrets? “...
fingers. “I’ll take the first likeness for free, but do another for me, please. One of the two of us together.” She paused. She rarely did sketches of herself. They felt strange to draw. “All right.” She took the sphere, then furtively tucked it into her safepouch, beside her Soulcaster. It was a little odd to carry so...
longer, at least. She’d have to go back eventually, of course. She couldn’t leave her brothers to face danger alone. They needed her. Selfishness, followed by courage. She was nearly as surprised by the latter as she had been by the former. Neither was something she often associated with who she was. But she was coming...
of the Veil, hesitating beside the doorway, ignoring the master-servants and ardents who gave her confused looks. Where to go? Sweat trickled down the sides of her face. Where to run when you were going mad? She cut into the main cavern’s crowd. It was late afternoon, and the dinner rush had begun—servants pushing dini...
corners. Her fingers kept moving, drawing, depicting the pad itself, held before her, safehand shrouded and bracing the pad from behind. And then on. To the beings standing around her—twisted symbols unconnected to their uneven shoulders. Those not-heads had unreal angles, surfaces that melded in weird, impossible ways...
time, the warm voice said. I sleep so much. I will change. Give me what you have. “I don’t know what you mean! Please, help me!” I will change. She felt suddenly cold, as if the warmth were being drawn from her. She screamed as the bead in her fingers flared to sudden warmth. She dropped it just as a shift in the ocean...
through the fabric of her sleeve. She took a breath and pulled up her right sleeve, then used the glass to cut a shallow gash in her skin. In the panic of the moment, it barely even hurt. Blood welled out. As the doorknob turned and the door opened, Shallan dropped the glass shard and lay on her side. She closed her ey...
the world fighting? Was there nowhere that was at peace? He took a path to the southwest, blowing toward a city built in long troughs in the ground that looked like giant claw marks ripped across the landscape. He was over it in a flash, passing a hinterland where the stone itself was ribbed and rippled, like frozen wa...
a stop, feet throwing up sprays of water. Stormwinds crashed into him, but he was enough a part of them that they neither tossed nor shook him. MEN RIDE THE STORMS NO LONGER. The voice was thunder, crashing in the air. THE OOATHPACT IS BROKEN, CHILD OF HONOR. “I don’t understand!” Kaladin screamed into the tempest. A f...
muttered. “That eel Gaz. He’s been giving us dun spheres again.” Kaladin crossed the pitch-black barrack, stepping carefully. His headache faded away as he felt for the door. He pushed it open, letting in the faint light of an overcast morning. The winds were weak, but the rain still fell. He stepped out, and was short...
should have done this weeks ago. The riddens had turned to drizzle, heralding the storm’s last whispers. Kaladin stood up, letting the water wash bits of shorn hair from his chest. Baby-faced Dunny—the last of those waiting—sat down for his turn at being shaven. He hardly needed it at all. “The shave suits you,” a voic...

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