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Adolin scooted over beside her, and she felt his warmth. She closed her eyes and melted into him, breathing him in—as if she could feel his soul brushing against her own.
“Hey,” he said. “It’s not so bad. Really. Father knew this plan might come to fighting. If Ialai had been willing to quietly rule in the warcamps, we’d have left her alone. But we couldn’t ignore someone sitting in our backyard raising an army to depose us.”
Shallan nodded.
“That’s not what you’re worried about, is it?” Adolin asked.
“No. Not completely.” She turned and pressed her face into his chest. He’d removed his jacket, and the shirt beneath reminded her of when he came to their rooms after sparring. He always wanted to bathe immediately, and she … well, she rarely let him. Not until she was done with him, at least.
They rode in silence for some time, with Shallan snuggled against him. “You never push,” she eventually said. “Though you know I keep secrets from you.”
“You’ll tell me eventually.”
She gripped his shirt tight between her fingers. “It bothers you though, doesn’t it?”
He didn’t reply at first, which was different from his normal cheery assurances. “Yeah,” he finally said. “How could it not? I trust you, Shallan. But sometimes … I wonder if I can trust all three of you. Veil especially.”
“She’s trying to protect me in her own way,” Shallan said.
“And if she does something you or I wouldn’t want her to? Gets … physical with someone?”
“That’s not a worry,” Shallan said. “I promise, and she will too if you ask her. We have an understanding. I’m not worried about you and me, Adolin.”
“What are you worried about, then?”
She pulled closer, and couldn’t help imagining it. What he would do if he knew the real her. If he knew all the things she’d actually done.
It wasn’t just about him. What if Pattern knew? Dalinar? Her agents?
They would leave, and her life would become a wasteland. She’d be alone, as she deserved. Because of the truths she hid, her entire life was a lie. Shallan, the one they all knew best, was the fakest mask of them all.
No, Radiant said. You can face it. You can fight it. You imagine only the worst possible outcome.
But it’s possible, isn’t it? Shallan asked. It’s possible that they would leave me if they knew.
Radiant had no reply. And deep within Shallan, something else stirred. Formless. She had told herself that she would never create a new persona, and she wouldn’t. Formless wasn’t real.
But the possibility of it frightened Veil. And anything that frightened Veil terrified Shallan.
“I will explain someday,” Shallan said softly to Adolin. “I promise. When I’m ready.”
He squeezed her arm in reply. She didn’t deserve him—his goodness, his love. That was the trap she’d found herself in. The more he trusted her, the worse she felt. And she didn’t know how to get out. She couldn’t get out.
Please, she whispered. Save me.
Veil reluctantly emerged. She sat up, not pulling against Adolin any longer—and he seemed to understand, shifting his position in the seat. He had an uncanny ability to tell which of her was in control.
“We’re trying to help,” Veil said to him. “And we think that this year has been good for Shallan, overall. But right now, it’s probably better if we discuss another topic.”
“Sure,” Adolin said. “Can we talk about the fact that Ialai was more frightened of capture than death?”
“She … didn’t kill herself, Adolin,” Veil said. “We are reasonably certain she died from a pinprick of poison.”
He sat up straight. “So you’re saying someone in our team did it? One of my soldiers or one of your agents?” He paused. “Or … did you do it, Veil?”
“I didn’t,” Veil said. “But would it have been so bad if I had? We both know she needed to die.”
“She was a defenseless woman!”
“And it’s that different from what you did to Sadeas?”
“He was a soldier,” Adolin said. “That’s what makes it different.” He glanced out the window. “Maybe. Father thinks I did something terrible. But … I was right, Veil. I’m not going to let someone hide behind social propriety while threatening my family. I won’t let them use my honor against me. And … Stonefalls. I say things like that, and…”
“And it doesn’t sound so different from killing Ialai,” Veil said. “Regardless, I didn’t kill her.”
Shallan, having had a short breather, started to reemerge. Veil retreated, letting Shallan lean up against Adolin. He, though tense at first, let her do so.
She rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. His life. Pulsing within him like the thunder of a captive storm. Pattern seemed to sense the way that pulse calmed her, for he began humming from where he hung on the roof.
She would tell Adolin everything, eventually. She’d told him some already. About her father, and her mother, and her life in Jah Keved. But not the deepest things, the things she didn’t even remember herself. How could she tell him things that were clouded in her own memory?
She also hadn’t told him about the Ghostbloods. She wasn’t certain she could share that secret, but could … could she try? Begin, at least? At Veil and Radiant’s prompting, she searched for a way. After all, Dalinar kept saying that the next step was the most important one.
“There’s something you need to know,” she said. “Before you came in, Ialai implied that if I took her captive, she would be killed. She knew the blow was coming—that’s why I was suspicious of her death. She also said she didn’t kill Thanadal. That it was another group called the Ghostbloods. She thought the Ghostbloods would send someone for her—which was why she was certain she’d die.”
“We’ve been hunting them. Ialai was leading them.”
“No, dear, she was leading the Sons of Honor. The Ghostbloods are a different group.”
He scratched his head. “Are they the ones your … brother Helaran belonged to? The one that attacked Amaram, right? And Kaladin killed Helaran without knowing who he was?”
“Those were the Skybreakers. They’re not so secret any longer. They joined with the enemy—”
“Right. Radiants on the other team.” Those likely made sense to him, as he’d taken battlefield reports on them. The shadowy groups moving at night, on the other hand, were something he couldn’t fight directly. Dealing with them was to be her job.
She dug in her pocket as the carriage rolled over a particularly robust series of bumps. This path hadn’t been graded or leveled, and though the carriage driver did his best to miss the larger rockbuds, there was only so much he could do.
“The Ghostbloods,” Shallan said, “are the people who tried to kill Jasnah—and me by extension—by sinking our ship.”
“So they’re on Odium’s side,” Adolin said.
“It’s more complicated than that. Honestly, I’m not sure what they want, besides secrets. They were trying to get to Urithiru before Jasnah, but we beat them to it.” Led them to it might have been more accurate. “I’m not at all sure what they want those secrets for.”
