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Rua lifted his hand into the air in a fist. Then the little spren toppled over to the side.

“Rua?” Lopen said, leaning down. “You playing a trick on me, naco?”

Rua vanished. Then a silvery little dagger appeared in his place. What on Roshar? Lopen picked it up. It was physical, not insubstantial. It was . . .

These Words are accepted.

A burst of frost and power exploded around Lopen.

“Storm me!” Lopen shouted, looking at the ceiling. “You did it again? I almost died out there, and you accept the Words now?”

It is the right time.

“Where’s the drama?” Lopen demanded at the sky. “The sense of timing? You’re terrible at this, penhito!”

I take offense at that. Be glad for what you have.

“I didn’t even know I’d said it!” Lopen muttered.

Storm it. Stupid oath. But he tried out the dagger, and it changed to a nice silvery sword, beautiful and ornate. He’d expected a little engraving of Rua making a rude gesture. And of course as he thought about it, that exact thing appeared on the blade. Huh.

This offered a ton of possibilities. . . .

No, no. He would be better. No pranks. Or, well, fewer pranks. He could do that. Protect people from himself. Who’d ever heard of an oath like that?

But, well, he was the Lopen. Things should be different for him. “Hey Huio!” he shouted, yanking open the door. “You’re never going to guess what just happened!”


Rysn didn’t let herself relax until the winds finally stopped blowing and calm sunlight streamed in through the porthole of her cabin. The ship was free of the storm around Akinah.

They had actually been allowed to leave.

Not that she was alone. A few hordelings accompanied her in secret. Representatives of the Sleepless, who would train with her and keep watch over her. Likely for the rest of her life.

But the arrangement had been made, the details hammered out. The lie was the best kind, as it required very little actual lying. Almost all of what they had to say was true, and of the crew, only Rysn and Cord knew the full secret.

Chiri-Chiri chirped nearby from a set of towels she’d arranged into a nest. She looked so content now, full of color. She’d spent the ride bouncing around and prancing through the room, then flying near the ceiling. As full of energy as Rysn had ever seen her.

Would Chiri-Chiri retain the ability to fly as she grew big as a chasmfiend? Nikli had implied she would. Stormwinds. How would Rysn deal with that? How long would it take?

Well, she’d handle it when the time came. She was less confident about the other burden, the one in her mind. She’d spent this entire voyage wondering if she belonged here, in this seat. And now she’d entered territory no babsk could ever have trained her to traverse.

But she’d certainly had lots of practice sitting up straight these last years. And in a way, she found that she felt comforted. If no one had traveled this path before, then she didn’t have to compare herself to anyone, did she? She didn’t have to be Vstim. Not in this task.

“Is that why you chose me?” Rysn asked Chiri-Chiri. “Did you know I could bear this?”

The larkin chirped encouragingly. And it was incredible how much better that made her feel. Rysn used her arms to scoot her body along the bench and poured some tea. At last she felt relaxed enough to read through the responses from the monarchs. Mostly confirmations of what she’d sent. They would want to speak to her in person to get the details. There, she would confide in them the second half-lie. That she had agreed to train the Sleepless.

Storms. Was it her, or did this tea taste extra good? She inspected it, then glanced at the sunlight pouring through the porthole. Was it . . . brighter than usual? Why did the colors in her room look so exceptionally vivid all of a sudden?

A knock came at her door.

“Come in,” she said, taking another sip of the wonderful tea.

Captain Drlwan entered, then bowed. Outside, Cord continued her vigil of guarding Rysn’s door—wearing full Shardplate. “You’re really going to let her keep it?” Drlwan said softly as she came up from her bow.

“Cord discovered it,” Rysn said. “It’s traditional to let the one who first claims a Shard keep it.” The Command pulsed with warmth as she said that. “Besides, Cord saved my life.”

“The Alethi won’t be happy,” Drlwan said. “They have a history of laying dubious—but strongly enforced—claim to Shards.”

“They’ll deal with the pain of losing this one,” Rysn said. “They’re getting three Soulcasters, after all.”

Drlwan smiled at that. Five of the new Soulcasters would go to Thaylenah. For years the Alethi had possessed a near monopoly on food-creating Soulcasters, but Thaylenah would now possess two—along with one that could form metals, one that created smoke, and another focused on wood, matching the one that the city had used for ages to make the best seafaring lumber.

A true wealth that would benefit Thaylenah for generations. And with the gemstones found in the caverns, the crew would have their promised riches, in compensation for the danger they’d undertaken.

She still mourned the three men she’d lost. It seemed such a waste of their lives when an agreement had been reached so soon after. She wondered if generals ever grieved for the last people who died before a treaty was signed.

Captain Drlwan settled down in the seat beside the desk. She didn’t speak for a long moment, instead looking past Rysn at the sunlight streaming in through the porthole.

“I didn’t think we’d see the sun again,” Drlwan finally said. “Not once those . . . things arrived. Even after you returned, I expected them to make some beast sink the Wandersail as it was leaving, then blame it on the storm.”

“I’ll admit,” Rysn said, “those same fears occurred to me.”

“What are they, Rysn?” the captain asked. “Truly? They seem like monsters of nightmare and the Void.”

“Most people who are different from us are frightening at first,” Rysn said. “But one thing Vstim taught me was to see past my own expectations. In this case, it meant looking past what I assumed made someone a person, and seeing the humanity—and the fear—in what appeared to be a nightmare.”

“They told me,” the captain said, “what you did.”

Rysn felt a spike of alarm, cup held halfway to her lips. What? They’d talked about the Dawnshard, after all this?

“As the ones on the ship were leaving,” Drlwan said. “Before you returned. They told me you had a chance to bargain for your own life. They said you would not enter into a negotiation unless it included the safety of the entire crew.”

Ah. That part. Rysn’s anxiety faded. “I did what any rebsk would do.”

“Pardon,” the captain said. “But you did what any good rebsk would do. A rebsk worthy of this crew.”

They shared a look, then Rysn nodded her thanks.

“After we leave port on our third journey,” Drlwan said, standing, “it would be good for the crew to see you steer the ship for a short time, would it not?”

“I would be honored,” Rysn said, her voice catching as she said it. “Truly.”

Drlwan smiled. “Let us hope the next one is a more . . . traditional voyage.”

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