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No, Venli thought, trembling. No. It’s not.
Months spent trying to find new forms had gotten her nowhere—while Eshonai gained more and more acclaim. Even their mother, who had called her explorations foolish, now spoke of Eshonai with respect. The person who had found the humans. The person who had changed the world.
Venli had done what she was supposed to. She’d remained with her mother, she’d spent endless days memorizing songs, dutiful. But Eshonai got the praise.
Before her nerves betrayed her, Venli stepped out onto the hillside, entering the storm. The force of the wind made her stumble and slide down the slick rock. In an eyeblink she went from sheltered, song-filled warmth to icy chaos. A tempest with sounds like instruments breaking and songs failing. She tried to hold to the Rhythm of Resolve, but it was the Rhythm of Winds by the time she scrambled behind a large boulder and pressed her back against the stone.
From there, her mind devolved to the Rhythm of Pleading, bordering on panic. What was she doing? This was insanity. She’d often mocked those who went out in the storms without shields or other protections.
She wanted to return to the shelter, but she was too frightened to move. Something large crushed the ground nearby, causing her to jump, but a moment of darkness in the howling tempest prevented her from seeing how close the impact had been. As if the lightning, the wind, and the rain all conspired against her.
She reached into her pocket and took out the gemstone. What had seemed so bright before now seemed frail. The red light barely illuminated her hand.
Break it. She was supposed to break it. With fingers already numb from the cold, she searched around, eventually finding a large stone. The ground was shattered here in a circle the size of a listener. She retreated to the relative shelter of the boulder, shivering as she held the gemstone in one hand, the rock in the other.
Then silence.
It was so sudden, so unexpected, that she gasped. The rhythms in her mind became as one, a single steady beat. She looked upward into pure blackness. The ground around her seemed dry all of a sudden. She slowly turned around, then huddled down again. There was something in the sky, something like a face made from clouds and natural light. The impression of something vast and unknowable.
YOU WISH TO TAKE THIS STEP? a not-voice said, vibrating through her like a rhythm.
“I…” This was him, the spren of highstorms—the Rider of Storms. The songs called him a traitor.
YOU HAVE SPENT SO LONG AS CHILDREN OF NO GOD, the rhythm said to her. YOU WOULD MAKE THIS CHOICE FOR ALL OF YOUR PEOPLE?
Venli felt both a thrill and a terror at those words. So there was something in the gemstone?
“My … my people need forms!” she shouted up toward the vast entity.
THIS IS MORE THAN FORMS. THIS POWER CHANGES MORTALS.
Power?
“You served our enemies!” she called to the sky. “How can I trust what you say?”
YET YOU TRUST THE GIFT OF ONE OF THOSE ENEMIES? REGARDLESS, I SERVE NO ONE. NOT MAN OR SINGER. I SIMPLY AM. FAREWELL, CHILD OF THE PLAINS.
CHILD OF ODIUM.
The vision ended as abruptly as it had begun, and Venli was again in the storm. She nearly dropped her burdens in shock, but then—huddling against the gleeful wind—she set the glowing gemstone on the ground. She gripped the rock in her hand, slick with rain. She wavered.
Should she take more care?
What greatness was achieved by being careful, though?
Eshonai hadn’t been careful, and she’d discovered a new world. Venli slammed the stone downward and crushed the gem. Light escaped in a puff, and she winced in the pelting rain, bracing herself for a wondrous transformation.
“Finally!” a voice said to the Rhythm of Irritation. “That was unpleasant.” The red light turned into a tiny human male, standing with hands on hips, glowing faintly in the storm.
Venli pulled her arms in tight, shivering, blinking rainwater out of her eyes. “Spren,” she hissed. “I have summoned you to grant me one of the ancient forms.”
“You?” he asked. “How old are you? Are there any others I could talk to?”
“Show me this secret first,” she said. “Then we will give your form to others. It can heal them, right? That is what I was told.”
He didn’t reply.
“You will not deny me this!” Venli said, though her words were lost in a sudden peal of thunder. “I’ve suffered long to accomplish this goal.”
“Well, you’re certainly dramatic,” the little spren said, tapping his foot. “Guess we use the tools we find in the shed, even if they’ve got a little rust on them. Here’s the deal. I’m going to take up residence inside of you, and together we’re going to do some incredible things.”
“We will bring useful forms to my people?” Venli asked, her teeth chattering.
“Well, yes. And also no. For a while, we’ll need you to appear as if you are still in workform. I need to scout out how things are on old Roshar these days. It’s been a while. You think you can get into Shadesmar, if we need to?”
“Sh-Shadesmar?” she asked.
“Yes, we need to get to the storm there. The newer one in the south? Where I entered that gemstone … You have no idea what I’m talking about. Delightful. Right, then. Get ready, we’ve got a lot of work to do.…”
* * *
Eshonai attuned Anxiety as she stood by the mouth of the shelter, searching for her sister. She couldn’t make out much in the tempest. The flashes of lightning, though brilliant, were too brief to give her a real picture of the landscape.
“She really did it, did she?” Thude asked to Amusement as he stepped up beside her, chewing on some fruit. “After all that complaining, she sauntered out to become a mate.”
“I doubt it,” Eshonai said. “She’s been trying to find warform for months now. She’s not looking to become a mate. She’s too young, anyway.” The humans had been surprised at how young Eshonai and Venli were—apparently, humans aged more slowly? But Venli was still months away from official adulthood.
“Younger ones have made the decision,” Thude said, rubbing at his beard. “I’ve thought about it, you know? There’s a certain bond to once-mates.”
“You just think it sounds fun,” Eshonai said to Reprimand.
He laughed. “I do at that.” Thunder shook the enclosure, silencing both of them for a time as they listened to it, both attuning the Rhythm of Winds out of deference. There was something wondrous—if dangerous—about feeling the very vibrations of the storm.
“This isn’t the time to be distracted by something silly like mateform,” Eshonai said. “The humans are leaving again once this storm ends. We should be talking about sending someone with them.”
“You’re too responsible for your own good sometimes, Eshonai,” Thude replied, his arm up against the top of the enclosure as he leaned forward, letting the rain hit his face.
“Me? Responsible?” she said. “Mother might have words for you on that topic.”
“And each one would remind me how alike the two of you are,” Thude said, attuned to Joy and grinning at the storm like a fool. “I’m going to do it one of these days, Eshonai. I’m going to see if Bila will go with me. Life is meant to be more than working the fields or chopping wood.”
