Words of Radiance

“You have said the Words,” Pattern said. “You said them long ago. No . . . it is not words that you lack. It is truth.”

“You prefer lies.”

“Mmm. Yes, and you are a lie. A powerful one. However, what you do is not just lie. It is truth and lie mixed. You must understand both.”

Shallan sat in thought, finishing her wine, until the door to the sitting room burst open, letting in Adolin. He stopped, wild-eyed, regarding her.

Shallan stood up, smiling. “It appears that I have failed at properly—”

She cut off as he grabbed her in an embrace. Drat. She’d had a perfectly clever quip prepared too. She’d worked on it during the entire bath.

Still, it was nice to be held. This was the most physically forward he’d ever been. Surviving an impossible journey did have its benefits. She let herself wrap her arms around him, feel the muscles on his back through his uniform, breathe in his cologne. He held her for several heartbeats. Not enough. She twisted her head and forced a kiss, her mouth enclosing his, firm in his embrace.

Adolin melted into the kiss, and did not pull back. Eventually, though, the perfect moment ended. Adolin took her head in his hands, looking into her eyes, and smiled. Then he grabbed her in another hug and laughed that barking, exuberant laugh of his. A real laugh, the one of which she was so fond.

“Where were you?” she asked.

“Visiting the other highprinces,” Adolin said, “one at a time and delivering Father’s final ultimatum—to join us in this assault, or forever be known as those who refused to see the Vengeance Pact fulfilled. Father thought giving me something to do would help distract me from . . . well, you.”

He leaned back, holding her by the arms, and gave her a silly grin.

“I have pictures to draw for you,” Shallan said, grinning back. “I saw a chasmfiend.”

“A dead one, right?”

“Poor thing.”

“Poor thing?” Adolin said, laughing. “Shallan, if you’d seen a live one, you’d have surely been killed!”

“Almost surely.”

“I still can’t believe . . . I mean, you fell. I should have saved you. Shallan, I’m sorry. I ran for Father first—”

“You did what you should have,” she said. “No person on that bridge would have had you rescue one of us instead of your father.”

He embraced her once more. “Well, I won’t let it happen again. Nothing like it. I’ll protect you, Shallan.”

She stiffened.

“I will make sure you aren’t ever hurt,” Adolin said fiercely. “I should have realized that you could be caught in an assassination attempt intended for Father. We’ll have to make it so that you aren’t ever in that kind of position again.”

She pulled away from him.

“Shallan?” Adolin said. “Don’t worry, they won’t get to you. I’ll protect you. I—”

“Don’t say things like that,” she hissed.

“What?” He ran his hand through his hair.

“Just don’t,” Shallan said, shivering.

“The man who did this, who threw that lever, is dead now,” Adolin said. “Is that what you’re worried about? He was poisoned before we could get answers—though we’re sure he belonged to Sadeas—but you don’t need to worry about him.”

“I will worry about what I wish to worry about,” Shallan said. “I don’t need to be protected.”

“But—”

“I don’t!” Shallan said. She breathed in and out, calming herself. She reached out and took him by the hand. “I won’t be locked away again, Adolin.”

“Again?”

“It’s not important.” Shallan raised his hand and wove his fingers between her own. “I appreciate the concern. That’s all that matters.”

But I won’t let you, or anyone else, treat me like a thing to be hidden away. Never, never again.

Dalinar opened the door into his study, letting Navani pass through first, then followed her into the room. Navani looked serene, her face a mask.

“Child,” Dalinar said to Shallan, “I have a somewhat difficult request to make of you.”

“Anything you wish, Brightlord,” Shallan said, bowing. “But I do wish to make a request of you in turn.”

“What is it?”

“I need to accompany you on your expedition.”

Dalinar smiled, shooting a glance at Navani. The older woman did not react. She can be so good with her emotions, Shallan thought. I can’t even read what she’s thinking. That would be a useful skill to learn.

“I believe,” Shallan said, looking back to Dalinar, “that the ruins of an ancient city are hidden on the Shattered Plains. Jasnah was searching for them. So, then, must I.”

“This expedition will be dangerous,” Navani said. “You understand the risks, child?”

“Yes.”

“One would think,” Navani continued, “that considering your recent ordeal, you would wish for a time of shelter.”

“Uh, I wouldn’t say things like that to her, Aunt,” Adolin said, scratching at his head. “She’s kind of funny about them.”

“It is not a matter of humor,” Shallan said, lifting her head high. “I have a duty.”

“Then I shall allow it,” Dalinar said. He liked anything having to do with duty.

“And your request of me?” Shallan asked him.

“This map,” Dalinar said, crossing the room and holding up the crinkled map detailing her path back through the chasms. “Navani’s scholars say this is as accurate as any map we have. You can truly expand this? Deliver a map of the entire Shattered Plains?”

“Yes.” Particularly if she used what she remembered of Amaram’s map to fill in some details. “But Brightlord, might I make a suggestion?”

“Speak.”

“Leave your parshmen behind in the warcamp,” she said.

He frowned.

“I cannot accurately explain why,” Shallan said, “but Jasnah felt that they were dangerous. Particularly to bring out onto the Plains. If you wish my help, if you trust me to create this map for you, then trust me on this one single point. Leave the parshmen. Conduct this expedition without them.”

Dalinar looked to Navani, who shrugged. “Once our things are packed, they won’t be needed really. The only ones inconvenienced will be the officers, who will have to set up their own tents.”

Dalinar considered, chewing on her request. “This comes from Jasnah’s notes?” Dalinar asked.

Shallan nodded. To the side, blessedly, Adolin piped in. “She’s told me some of it, Father. You should listen to her.”

Shallan shot him a grateful smile.

“Then it shall be done,” Dalinar said. “Gather your things and send word to your uncle Sebarial, Brightness. We’re leaving within the hour. Without parshmen.”

THE END OF

Part Four

“Congratulations,” Brother Lhan said. “You have found your way to the easiest job in the world.”

The young ardent pursed her lips, looking him up and down. She had obviously not expected her new mentor to be rotund, slightly drunk, and yawning.

“You are the . . . senior ardent I’ve been assigned to?”

“‘To whom I’ve been assigned,’” Brother Lhan corrected, putting an arm around the young woman’s shoulders. “You’re going to have to learn how to speak punctiliously. Queen Aesudan likes to feel that those around her are refined. It makes her feel refined by association. My job is to mentor you on these items.”

“I have been an ardent here in Kholinar for over a year,” the woman said. “I hardly think that I need mentoring at all—”

“Yes, yes,” Brother Lhan said, guiding her out of the monastery’s entryway. “It’s just that, you see, your superiors say you might need a little extra direction. Being assigned to the queen’s own retinue is a marvelous privilege! One, I understand, you have requested with some measure of . . . ah . . . persistence.”

She walked with him, and each step revealed her reluctance. Or perhaps confusion. They passed into the Circle of Memories, a round room with ten lamps on the walls, one for each of the ancient Epoch Kingdoms. An eleventh lamp represented the Tranquiline Halls, and a large ceremonial keyhole set into the wall represented the need for ardents to ignore borders, and look only at the hearts of men . . . or something like that. He wasn’t sure, honestly.

Outside the Circle of Memories, they entered one of the covered walkways between monastery buildings, a light rain sprinkling the rooftops. The last leg of the walkways, the sunwalk, gave a wonderful view of Kholinar—at least on a clear day. Even today, Lhan could see much of the city, as both the temple and the high palace occupied a flat-topped hill.

Some said that the Almighty himself had drawn Kholinar in rock, scooping out sections of ground with a fluent finger. Lhan wondered how drunk he’d been at the time. Oh, the city was beautiful, but it was the beauty of an artist who wasn’t quite right in the mind. The rock took the shape of rolling hills and steeply sloping valleys, and when the stone was cut into, it exposed thousands of brilliant strata of red, white, yellow, and orange.