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“You should run, Navani,” Raboniel said to a calm rhythm, her voice echoing in the room. “There is a copy of our notebook on my desk in the hallway, along with your anti-Voidlight plate. Take them and make your escape.”
Navani froze in place, holding the dagger’s hilt so tightly, she thought she might never be able to uncurl her fingers.
She knows I’m here. She knows what she did in sending the guard away. Logic, Navani. What does it mean?
“You’re letting me go on purpose?” she said.
“Since the final node has been destroyed,” Raboniel said, “Vyre will soon return to claim his promised compensation. However, if you have escaped on your own … well, then I have not defaulted on my covenant with him.”
“I can’t leave the Sibling to you.”
“What do you think to do?” Raboniel asked. “Fight me?” She turned, so calm and composed. Her eyes flickered to the dagger, then she hummed softly to a confused rhythm. She’d forgotten about it. She wasn’t as in control as she pretended.
“Is this how you wish to end our association?” Raboniel asked. “Struggling like brutes in the wilderness? Scholars such as we, reduced to the exploitation of common blades? Run, Navani. You cannot defeat a Fused in battle.”
She was right on that count. “I can’t abandon the Sibling,” Navani said. “My honor won’t allow it.”
“We’re all children of Odium in the end,” Raboniel said. “Children of our Passions.”
“You just said we were scholars,” Navani said. “Others might be controlled by their passions. We are something more. Something better.” She took a deep breath, then turned the dagger in her hand, hilt out. “I’ll give you this, then you and I can go back to my room to wait together. If Vyre does defeat Stormblessed, I will submit to him. If not, you will agree to leave the Sibling.”
“A foolish gamble,” Raboniel said.
“No, a compromise. We can discuss as we wait, and if we come to a more perfect accommodation, all the better.” She proffered the dagger.
“Very well,” Raboniel said. She took the dagger with a quick snap of her hand, showing that she didn’t completely trust Navani. As well she shouldn’t.
Raboniel strode down the hallway, Navani following several paces behind.
“Let’s get to this quickly, Navani,” Raboniel said. “I should think that the two of us—”
Then Raboniel stepped directly into Navani’s fabrial trap.
For ones so varied, they are somehow intense.
—Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
Kaladin clung to Teft’s limp form and felt it all crumbling. The flimsy facade of confidence he had built to let himself fight. The way he pretended he was fine.
Syl landed on his shoulder, arms wrapped around herself, and said nothing. What was there to say?
It was over.
It was all just … over. What was there to life if he couldn’t protect the people he loved?
Long ago, he’d promised himself he’d try one last time. He’d try to save the men of Bridge Four. And he’d failed.
Teft had been so vibrant, so alive. So sturdy and so constant. He’d finally defeated his own monsters, had really come into his own, claiming his Radiance. He had been a wonderful, loving, amazing man.
He’d depended on Kaladin. Like Tien. Like a hundred others. But he couldn’t save them. He couldn’t protect them.
Syl whimpered, shrinking in on herself. Kaladin wished he could shrink as well. Maybe if he’d lived as his father wanted, he could have avoided this. He said he fought to protect, but he didn’t end up protecting anything, did he? He just destroyed. Killed.
Kaladin Stormblessed wasn’t dead. He’d never existed.
Kaladin Stormblessed was a lie. He always had been.
The numbness claimed him. That hollow darkness that was so much worse than pain. He couldn’t think. Didn’t want to think. Didn’t want anything.
This time, Adolin wasn’t there to pull him out of it. To force him to keep walking. This time, Kaladin was given exactly what he deserved.
Nothing. And nothingness.
* * *
Navani froze in place. Raboniel—suddenly struck with incredible pain from Navani’s trap—collapsed, dropping the dagger. Steeling herself, Navani went down on her hands and knees, then lunged forward to grab it.
The pain was excruciating. But Navani had tested these devices upon herself, and she knew what they did. She lost control of her legs, but managed to crawl forward and plunge the dagger into Raboniel’s chest. She kept her weight on the weapon, pressing it down, smelling burned flesh.
Raboniel screamed, writhing, clawing at Navani. The painrial did its job however, and prevented her from fighting back effectively.
“I’m sorry,” Navani said through gritted teeth. “I’m … sorry. But next time … try … not … to be … so trusting.”
The painrial soon ran out. Navani had set it up days ago, with a small Voidlight gemstone for power. It hadn’t been intended to work for very long. She was pleased by the range though. She’d specifically worked on that feature.
Navani sat up, then wrapped her arms around herself, trying to fight off the phantom effects of the pain. Finally she looked toward Raboniel’s corpse.
And found the Fused’s eyes quivering, not glassy and white like her daughter’s had been. Navani scrambled away.
Raboniel moved her arms limply, then turned her head toward Navani.
“How?” Navani demanded. “Why are you alive?”
“Not … enough … Light…” Raboniel croaked. She gripped the knife in her chest and pulled it free, letting out a sigh. “It hurts. I’m … I’m … not…” She closed her eyes, though she continued to breathe.
Navani inched forward, wary.
“You must take … the notebook…” Raboniel said. “And you must … run. Vyre … returns.”
“You tell me to run, after I tried to kill you?”
“Not … tried…” Raboniel said. “I … cannot hear rhythms.… My soul … dying…” She pried open her eyes and fixed them on Navani. “You … tricked me well, Navani. Clever, clever. Well … done.”
“How can you say that?” Navani said, glancing toward the desk and the papers on it.
“Live … as long as I … and you can appreciate … anything … that still surprises you.… Go, Navani. Run … The war must … end.”
Navani felt sick, now that she’d gone through with it. An unexpected pain pricked her at the betrayal. Nevertheless, she moved to the desk and picked up the notebook.
I need to get this out of the tower, she realized. It is perhaps even more important than the Sibling. A way to kill Fused permanently. A way to …
To end the war. If both Radiant spren and Fused could die for good, it could stop, couldn’t it?
“Stormfather,” she whispered. “That’s what it was all about.” Raboniel wanted to end the war, one way or another. The notebook Navani held was a copy, and Navani realized that the original notebook would be in Kholinar, delivered to the leaders of the singer military—likely along with the vacuum chamber and the metal plates.
