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“‘Before you jump to conclusions,’” Danlan read, “‘I’m not implying that the Voidbringers were the same thing as chasmfiends. I believe that the ancient artist didn’t know what a Voidbringer looked like, and so she drew the most horrific thing she knew of.’”
But how did the original artist know what a chasmfiend looked like? Dalinar thought. We only just discovered the Shattered Plains—
But of course. Though the Unclaimed Hills were now empty, they had once been an inhabited kingdom. Someone in the past had known about chasmfiends, known them well enough to draw one and label it a Voidbringer.
“‘I must go now,’” Jasnah said via Danlan. “‘Care for my brother in my absence, Uncle.’”
“Jasnah,” Dalinar sent, choosing his words very carefully. “Things are difficult here. The storm begins to blow unchecked, and the building shakes and moans. You may soon hear news that shocks you. It would be very nice if you could return and lend your aid.”
He waited quietly for the reply, the spanreed scratching. “‘I should like to promise a date when I will come.’” Dalinar could almost hear Jasnah’s calm, cool voice. “‘But I cannot estimate when my research will be completed.’”
“This is very important, Jasnah,” Dalinar said. “Please reconsider.”
“‘Be assured, Uncle, that I am coming. Eventually. I just can’t say when.’”
Dalinar sighed.
“‘Note,’” Jasnah wrote, “‘that I am most eager to see a chasmfiend for myself.’”
“A dead one,” Dalinar said. “I have no intention of letting you repeat your brother’s experience of a few weeks ago.”
“‘Ah,’” Jasnah sent back, “‘dear, overprotective Dalinar. One of these years, you will have to admit that your favored niece and nephew have grown up.’”
“I’ll treat you as adults so long as you act the part,” Dalinar said. “Come speedily, and we’ll get you a dead chasmfiend. Take care.”
They waited to see if a further response came, but the gem stopped blinking, Jasnah’s transmission complete. Danlan put away the spanreed and the board, and Dalinar thanked the clerks for their aid. They withdrew; Adolin looked as if he wanted to linger, but Dalinar gestured for him to leave.
Dalinar looked down at the picture of the chasmfiend again, unsatisfied. What had he gained from the conversation? More vague hints? What could be so important about Jasnah’s research that she would ignore threats to the kingdom?
He would have to compose a more forthright letter to her once he’d made his announcement, explaining why he had decided to step down. Perhaps that would bring her back.
And, in a moment of shock, Dalinar realized that he had made his decision. Sometime between leaving the trench and now, he’d stopped treating his abdication as an if and started thinking of it as a when. It was the right decision. He felt sick about it, but certain. A man sometimes needed to do things that were unpleasant.
It was the discussion with Jasnah, he realized. The talk of her father. He was acting like Gavilar at the end. That had nearly undermined the kingdom. Well, he needed to stop himself before he got that far. Perhaps whatever was happening to him was some kind of disease of the mind, inherited from their parents. It—
“You are quite fond of Jasnah,” Navani said.
Dalinar started, turning away from the picture of the chasmfiend. He’d assumed she’d followed Adolin out. But she still stood there, looking at him.
“Why is it,” Navani said, “that you encourage her so strongly to return?”
He turned to face Navani, and realized that she’d sent her two youthful attendants out with the clerks. They were now alone.
“Navani,” he said. “This is inappropriate.”
“Bah. We’re family, and I have questions.”
Dalinar hesitated, then walked to the center of the room. Navani stood near the door. Blessedly, her attendants had left open the door at the end of the antechamber, and beyond it were two guards in the hall outside. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but so long as Dalinar could see the guards and they him, his conversation with Navani was just barely, proper.
“Dalinar?” Navani asked. “Are you going to answer me? Why is it you trust my daughter so much when others almost universally revile her?”
“I consider their disdain for her to be a recommendation,” he said.
“She is a heretic.”
“She refused to join any of the devotaries because she did not believe in their teachings. Rather than compromise for the sake of appearances, she has been honest and has refused to make professions she does not believe. I find that a sign of honor.”
Navani snorted. “You two are a pair of nails in the same doorframe. Stern, hard, and storming annoying to pull free.”
“You should go now,” Dalinar said, nodding toward the hallway. He suddenly felt very exhausted. “People will talk.”
“Let them. We need to plan, Dalinar. You are the most important highprince in—”
“Navani,” he cut in. “I’m going to abdicate in favor of Adolin.”
She blinked in surprise.
“I’m stepping down as soon as I can make the necessary arrangements. It will be a few days at most.” Speaking the words felt odd, as if saying them made his decision real.
Navani looked pained. “Oh, Dalinar,” she whispered. “This is a terrible mistake.”
“It is mine to make. And I must repeat my request. I have many things to think about, Navani, and I can’t deal with you right now.” He pointed at the doorway.
Navani rolled her eyes, but left as requested. She shut the door behind her.
That’s it, Dalinar thought, letting out a long exhalation. I’ve made the decision.
Too weary to remove his Plate unassisted, he sank down onto the floor, resting his head back against the wall. He would tell Adolin of his decision in the morning, then announce it at a feast within the week. From there, he would return to Alethkar and his lands.
It was over.
THE END OF
Part Two
Rysn hesitantly stepped down from the caravan’s lead wagon. Her feet fell on soft, uneven ground that sank down a little beneath her.
That made her shiver, particularly since the too-thick grass didn’t move away as it should. Rysn tapped her foot a few times. The grass didn’t so much as quiver.
“It’s not going to move,” Vstim said. “Grass here doesn’t behave the way it does elsewhere. Surely you’ve heard that.” The older man sat beneath the bright yellow canopy of the lead wagon. He rested one arm on the side rail, holding a set of ledgers with the other hand. One of his long white eyebrows was tucked behind his ear and he let the other trail down beside his face. He preferred stiffly starched robes—blue and red—and a flat-topped conical hat. It was classic Thaylen merchant’s clothing: several decades out of date, yet still distinguished.
“I’ve heard of the grass,” Rysn said to him. “But it’s just so odd.” She stepped again, walking in a circle around the lead wagon. Yes, she’d heard of the grass here in Shinovar, but she’d assumed that it would just be lethargic. That people said it didn’t disappear because it moved too slowly.
