Words of Radiance

Rysn stepped closer to where the king stood beside the beast’s nose. “You are king—you know the importance of trusting those beneath you. You cannot be everywhere, know everything. At times, you must accept the judgment of those you know. My babsk is such a man.”

“You make a valid point,” Talik translated, sounding surprised. “But what you do not realize is that I have already paid your babsk this respect. That is why I agreed to speak with you myself. I would not have done this for another.”

“But—”

“Return below,” the king said through Talik, her voice growing harder. She seemed to think this was the end. “Tell your babsk that you proceeded far enough to speak with me personally. Doubtless, this is more than he expected. You may leave the island, and return when he is well.”

“I . . .” Rysn felt as if a fist were crushing her throat, making it hard for her to speak. She couldn’t fail him, not now.

“Give him my best wishes for his recovery,” the king said, turning away.

Talik smiled in what seemed to be satisfaction. Rysn glanced at her two guards, who bore grim expressions.

Rysn stepped away. She felt numb. Turned away, like a child demanding sweets. She felt a furious blush consume her as she walked past the men and women preparing more bundles of fruit.

Rysn stopped. She looked to her left, out at the endless expanse of blue. She turned back toward the king. “I believe,” Rysn said loudly, “that I need to speak with someone with more authority.”

Talik turned toward her. “You have spoken to the king. There is nobody with more authority.”

“I beg your pardon,” Rysn said. “But I do think there is.”

One of the ropes shook from having its fruit gift consumed. This is stupid, this is stupid, this is—

Don’t think.

Rysn scrambled to the rope, causing her guards to cry out. She grabbed the length of rope and let herself over the side, climbing down beside the greatshell’s head. The god’s head.

Passions! This was hard in a skirt. The rope bit into the skin of her arms, and it vibrated as the creature below crunched on the fruit upon its end.

Talik’s head appeared above. “What in Kelek’s name are you doing, idiot woman?” he screamed. She found it amusing that he’d learned their curses while studying with them.

Rysn clung to the rope, heart rushing in a mad panic. What was she doing? “Relu-na,” she yelled back at Talik, “approves of boldness!”

“There is a difference between boldness and stupidity!”

Rysn continued to climb down. It was more of a slide. Oh, Craving, Passion of need . . .

“Pull her back up!” Talik ordered. “You soldiers, help.” He gave further orders in Reshi.

Rysn looked up as workers grabbed the rope to haul her back upward. A new face appeared above, however, looking down. The king. She raised a hand, halting them as she studied Rysn.

Rysn continued on down. She didn’t go terribly far, maybe fifty feet or so. Not even down to the creature’s eye. She stopped herself, with effort, her fingers burning. “O great Relu-na,” Rysn said loudly, “your people refuse to trade with me, and so I come to you to beg. Your people need what I have brought, but I need a trade even more. I cannot afford to return.”

The creature, of course, did not reply. Rysn hung in place beside its shell, which was crusted with lichen and small rockbuds.

“Please,” Rysn said. “Please.”

What am I expecting to happen? Rysn wondered. She didn’t expect the thing to make any sort of reply. But maybe she could persuade those above that she was bold enough to be worthy. It couldn’t hurt, at least.

The rope quivered in her hands, and she made the mistake of glancing down.

Actually, what she was doing could hurt. Very much.

“The king,” Talik said above, “has commanded that you return.”

“Will our negotiation continue?” Rysn asked, glancing up. The king actually looked concerned.

“That’s not important,” Talik said. “You have been issued a command.”

Rysn gritted her teeth, clinging to the rope, looking at the plates of chitin before her. “And what do you think?” she asked softly.

Down below, the thing bit down, and the rope suddenly became very tight, slapping Rysn against the side of the enormous head. Above, workers shouted. The king yelled at them in a sudden, sharp voice.

Oh no . . .

The rope pulled even tighter.

Then snapped.

The shouts grew frantic above, though Rysn barely noticed them as panic struck. She did not fall gracefully, but as a flurry of screaming cloth and legs, her skirt flapping, her stomach lurching. What had she done? She—

She saw an eye. The god’s eye. Only a glimpse as she passed; it was as large as a house, glassy and black, and it reflected her falling form.

She seemed to hang before it for a fraction of a second, and her scream died in her throat.

It was gone in a moment. Then rushing wind, another scream, and a crash into water hard as stone.

Blackness.

* * *

Rysn found herself floating when she awoke. She didn’t open her eyes, but she could sense that she was floating. Drifting, bobbing up and down . . .

“She is an idiot.” She knew that voice. Talik, the one she’d been trading with.

“Then she fits well with me,” Vstim said. He coughed. “I have to say, old friend, you were supposed to help train her, not drop her off a cliff.”

Floating . . . Drifting . . .

Wait.

Rysn forced her eyes open. She was in a bed inside a hut. It was hot. Her vision swam, and she drifted . . . drifted because her mind was cloudy. What had they given her? She tried to sit up. Her legs wouldn’t move. Her legs wouldn’t move.

She gasped, then began breathing quickly.

Vstim’s face appeared above her, followed by a concerned Reshi woman with ribbons in her hair. Not the queen . . . king . . . whatever. This woman spoke quickly in the barking language of the Reshi.

“Calm now,” Vstim said to Rysn, kneeling beside her. “Calm . . . They’ll get you something to drink, child.”

“I lived,” Rysn said. Her voice rasped as she spoke.

“Barely,” Vstim said, though with fondness. “The spren cushioned your fall. From that height . . . Child, what were you thinking, climbing over the side like that?”

“I needed to do something,” Rysn said. “To prove courage. I thought . . . I needed to be bold . . .”

“Oh, child. This is my fault.”

“You were his babsk,” Rysn said. “Talik, their trader. You set this up with him, so I could have a chance to trade on my own, but in a controlled setting. The trade was never in danger, and you are not as sick as you appear.” The words boiled out, tumbling over one another like a hundred men trying to leave through the same doorway at once.

“When did you figure that out?” Vstim asked, then coughed.

“I . . .” She didn’t know. It just all kind of fell together for her. “Right now.”

“Well, you must know that I feel a true fool,” Vstim said. “I thought this would be a perfect chance for you. A practice with real stakes. And then . . . Then you went and fell off the island’s head!”

Rysn squeezed her eyes shut as the Reshi woman arrived with a cup of something. “Will I walk again?” Rysn asked softly.

“Here, drink this,” Vstim said.

“Will I walk again?” She didn’t take the cup, and kept her eyes closed.

“I don’t know,” Vstim said. “But you will trade again. Passions! Daring to go above the king’s authority? Being saved by the island’s soul itself?” He chuckled. It sounded forced. “The other islands will be clamoring to trade with us.”

“Then I accomplished something,” she said, feeling a complete and utter idiot.

“Oh, you accomplished something indeed,” Vstim said.

She felt a prickling pressure on her arm and opened her eyes with a snap. Something crawled there, about as big as the palm of her hand—a creature that looked like a cremling, but with wings that folded along the back.

“What is it?” Rysn demanded.

“Why we came here,” Vstim said. “The thing we trade for, a treasure that very few know still exists. They were supposed to have died with Aimia, you see. I came here with all of these goods in tow because Talik sent to me to say they had the corpse of one to trade. Kings pay fortunes for them.”

He leaned down. “I have never seen one alive before. I was given the corpse I wanted in trade. This one has been given to you.”

“By the Reshi?” Rysn asked, mind still clouded. She didn’t know what to make of any of this.

“The Reshi could not command one of the larkin,” Vstim said, standing. “This was given you by the island itself. Now drink your medicine and sleep. You shattered both of your legs. We will be staying on this island for a long while as you recover, and as I seek forgiveness for being a foolish, foolish man.”

She accepted the drink. As she drank, the small creature flew up toward the rafters of the hut and perched there, looking down at her with eyes of solid silver.

“So what kind of spren is it?” Thude asked to the slow Rhythm of Curiosity. He held up the gemstone, peering in at the smoky creature moving about inside.