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“Father?” Renarin called from behind. “Are you—”
“We have time!” Dalinar shouted.
They eventually reached the jagged wall of the Kholin warcamp. Here, the remaining soldiers wore blue and white and saluted. Most had already retreated to their enclosures. He had to slow Gallant to get through the checkpoint. However, it would just be another short gallop to his quarters. He turned Gallant, preparing to go.
“Father!” Renarin said, pointing eastward.
The stormwall hung like a curtain in the air, speeding toward the camp. The massive sheet of rain was a silvery grey, the clouds above onyx black, lit from within by occasional flashes of lightning. The guards who had saluted him were hurrying to a nearby bunker.
“We can make it,” Dalinar said. “We—”
“Father!” Renarin said, riding up beside him and catching his arm. “I’m sorry.”
The wind whipped at them, and Dalinar gritted his teeth, looking at his son. Renarin’s spectacled eyes were wide with concern.
Dalinar glanced at the stormwall again. It was only moments away.
He’s right.
He handed Gallant’s reins to an anxious soldier, who took the reins of Renarin’s mount as well, and the two of them dismounted. The groom rushed away, towing the horses into a stone stable. Dalinar almost followed—there would be fewer people to watch him in a stable—but a nearby barrack had the door open, and those inside waved anxiously. That would be safer.
Resigned, Dalinar joined Renarin, dashing to the stone-walled barrack. The soldiers made room for them; there was a group of servants packed inside as well. In Dalinar’s camp, no one was forced to weather the tempests in stormtents or flimsy wooden shacks, and nobody had to pay for protection inside stone structures.
The occupants seemed shocked to see their highprince and his son step in; several paled as the door thumped shut. Their only light was from a few garnets mounted on the walls. Someone coughed, and outside a scattering of windblown rock chips sprayed against the building. Dalinar tried to ignore the uncomfortable eyes around him. Wind howled outside. Perhaps nothing would happen. Perhaps this time—
The storm hit.
It began.
He holds the most frightening and terrible of all of the Shards. Ponder on that for a time, you old reptile, and tell me if your insistence on nonintervention holds firm. Because I assure you, Rayse will not be similarly inhibited.
Dalinar blinked. The stuffy, dimly lit barrack was gone. Instead, he stood in darkness. The air was thick with the scent of dried grain, and when he reached out with his left hand, he felt a wooden wall. He was in a barn of some sort.
The cool night was still and crisp; there was no sign of a storm. He felt carefully at his side. His side sword was gone, as was his uniform. Instead, he wore a homespun belted tunic and a pair of sandals. It was the type of clothing he’d seen depicted on ancient statues.
Stormwinds, where have you sent me this time? Each of the visions was different. This would be the twelfth one he’d seen. Only twelve? he thought. It seemed like so many more, but this had only begun happening to him a few months ago.
Something moved in the darkness. He flinched in surprise as something living pressed against him. He nearly struck it, but froze when he heard it whimper. He carefully lowered his arm, feeling the figure’s back. Slight and small—a child. She was quivering.
“Father.” Her voice trembled. “Father, what is happening?” As usual, he was being seen as someone of this place and time. The girl clutched him, obviously terrified. It was too dark to see the fearspren he suspected were climbing up through the ground.
Dalinar rested his hand on her back. “Hush. It will be all right.” It seemed the right thing to say.
“Mother…”
“She will be fine.”
The girl huddled more closely against him in the black room. He remained still. Something felt wrong. The building creaked in the wind. It wasn’t well built; the plank beneath Dalinar’s hand was loose, and he was tempted to push it free so he could peek out. But the stillness, the terrified child…There was an oddly putrid scent in the air.
Something scratched, ever so softly, at the barn’s far wall. Like a finger-nail being drawn across a wooden tabletop.
The girl whimpered, and the scraping sound stopped. Dalinar held his breath, heart beating furiously. Instinctively, he held his hand out to summon his Shardblade, but nothing happened. It would never come during the visions.
The far wall of the building exploded inward.
Splintered wood flew through the darkness as a large shape burst in. Lit only by moonglow and starlight from outside, the black thing was bigger than an axehound. He couldn’t make out details, but it seemed to have an unnatural wrongness to its form.
The girl screamed, and Dalinar cursed, grabbing her with one arm and rolling to the side as the black thing leaped for them. It nearly got the child, but Dalinar whipped her out of the creature’s path. Breathless with terror, her scream cut off.
Dalinar spun, pushing the girl behind him. His side hit a stack of sacks filled with grain as he edged away. The barn fell silent. Salas’s violet light shone in the sky outside, but the small moon wasn’t bright enough to illuminate the barn’s interior, and the creature had moved into a shadowed recess. He couldn’t see much of it.
It seemed part of the shadows. Dalinar tensed, fists forward. It made a soft wheezing noise, eerie and faintly reminiscent of rhythmic whispering.
Breathing? Dalinar thought. No. It’s sniffing for us.
The thing darted forward. Dalinar whipped a hand to the side and grabbed one of the grain sacks, pulling it in front of himself. The beast struck the sack, its teeth ripping into it, and Dalinar pulled, tearing the coarse fabric and flinging a fragrant cloud of dusty lavis grain into the air. Then he stepped to the side and kicked the beast as hard as he could.
The creature felt too soft under his foot, as if he’d kicked a waterskin. The blow knocked it to the ground, and it made a hissing sound. Dalinar flung the bag and its remaining contents upward, filling the air with more dried lavis and dust.
The beast scrambled to its feet and twisted around, smooth skin reflecting moonlight. It seemed disoriented. Whatever it was, it hunted by smell, and the dust in the air confused it. Dalinar grabbed the girl and threw her over his shoulder, then dashed past the confused creature, barreling through the hole in the broken wall.
He burst out into violet moonlight. He was in a small lait—a wide rift in the stone with good enough drainage to avoid flooding and a high stone outcropping to break the highstorms. In this case, the eastern rock formation was shaped like an enormous wave, creating shelter for a small village.
That explained the flimsiness of the barn. Lights flickered here and there across the hollow, indicating a settlement of several dozen homes. He was on the outskirts. There was a hogpen to Dalinar’s right, distant homes to his left, and just ahead—nestled against the rock hill—was a midsized farm house. It was built in an archaic style, with crem bricks for walls.
His decision was easy. The thing had moved quickly, like a predator. Dalinar wouldn’t outrun it, so he charged toward the farm house. The sound of the beast breaking out through the barn wall came from behind. Dalinar reached the home, but the front door was barred. Dalinar cursed loudly, pounding on it.
