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Kaladin pointed as his parents caught up to him. “Each of these rooms on the right leads to a large balcony, extending all along the rim here. Laral will get that corner room, which is the largest, with a private balcony. I thought we’d reserve the ten here in the center and make them a meeting area. The rooms are connected, and some of the other neighborhoods have made their balcony section a large common space.”
He continued forward, passing the rooms—which contained stacks of blankets, planks for making furniture, and sacks of grain. “We can put chairs in there and have a communal kitchen,” he said. “It’s easier than trying to find a way for everyone to cook on their own. Firewood—from the rockbud farms on the Plains—needs to be carted in through the Oathgate, so it’s on a strict ration. There’s a functioning well on this level not too far away though, so you won’t lack for water.
“I’m not sure yet what everyone’s duties will be. As you probably noticed flying in, Dalinar has started large-scale farming operations out on the Shattered Plains. That might require relocation, but we also might be able to get things growing up here. That’s part of how I persuaded Dalinar to let me fetch everyone from Hearthstone—we have a lot of soldiers, but surprisingly few people who know their way around a lavis field during worming season.”
“And those rooms?” Hesina asked, pointing down an inward hallway lined with openings.
“Each is big enough for a family,” Kaladin said. “Those don’t have any natural light, I’m afraid, but there are two hundred of them—enough for everyone. I’m sorry I had to put you all the way up here on the sixth floor. That’s going to mean either waiting for lifts, or taking the stairs. It’s the only way I could find you a spot with balcony rooms. It’s still pretty low I guess—I feel bad for whoever has to eventually start living up in those high floors.”
“It’s wonderful,” Hesina said.
Kaladin waited for Lirin to say something, but he simply walked into one of the balcony rooms. He passed the supplies and stepped out onto the large balcony, glancing upward.
He doesn’t like it, Kaladin thought. Of course Lirin would find something to complain about, even after being handed enviable quarters in the mythical city of the Epoch Kingdoms.
Kaladin joined him, following his father’s gaze as Lirin turned and tried to look up at the tower, though the balcony above got in the way.
“What’s at the top?” Lirin asked.
“Meeting rooms for the Radiants,” Kaladin said. “There’s nothing on the very top—just a flat roof. The view is great though. I’ll show it to you sometime.”
“Enough chatting!” Syl said. “Come on. Follow me!” She zipped off Hesina’s shoulder and darted through the rooms. When the humans didn’t immediately follow, she flew over, whirled around Hesina’s head, then shot back out. “Come on.”
They followed, Kaladin trailing his parents as Syl led them through the several balcony rooms he imagined becoming a large meeting area, with a wonderful view out over the mountains. A little chilly, but a large fabrial hearth acting as the communal oven would help greatly.
At the other end of the connected balcony chambers was a large suite of six rooms, with their own washrooms and a private balcony. It was the mirror of Laral’s at the other end. These two seemed to have been built for officers and their families, so Kaladin had reserved it for a special purpose.
Syl led them through a front room, down a hallway past two closed doors, and into a main sitting room. “We spent all week getting it ready!” she said, darting around this chamber. The far wall had a set of stone shelves full of books. He’d spent a large chunk of his monthly stipend to acquire them. As a youth, he’d often felt bad for how few books his mother had.
“I didn’t know there were so many books in the world,” Syl said. “Won’t they use up all the words? Seems like eventually you’d say everything that could be said!” She zipped over to a smaller side room. “There’s a space for the baby here, and I picked out the toys, because Kaladin would probably have bought him a spear or something dumb. Oh! And over here!”
She whirled past them, into the hallway again. Kaladin’s parents followed, and he shadowed them. At Syl’s prompting, Lirin opened one of the doors in the hallway, revealing a fully stocked surgery room. Exam table. A glistening set of the finest instruments, including equipment Kaladin’s father had never been able to afford: scalpels, a device for listening to a patient’s heartbeat, a magnificent fabrial clock, a fabrial heating plate for boiling bandages or cleansing surgical tools.
Kaladin’s father stepped into the room, while Hesina stood in the doorway, hand to her mouth in amazement, a shockspren—like shattering pieces of yellow light—adorning her. Lirin picked up several of the tools, one at a time, then began inspecting the various jars of ointment, powder, and medication Kaladin had stocked on the shelf.
“I ordered in the best from Taravangian’s physicians,” Kaladin said. “You’ll need to have Mother read to you about some of these newer medications—they’re discovering some remarkable things at the hospitals in Kharbranth. They say they’ve found a way to infect people with a weak, easily overcome version of a disease—which leaves them immune for life to more harsh variants.”
Lirin seemed … solemn. More than normal. Despite Hesina’s jokes, Lirin did laugh—he had emotions. Kaladin had seen them from him frequently. To have him respond to all of this with such quietude …
He hates it, Kaladin thought. What did I do wrong?
Oddly, Lirin sat and slumped in one of the nearby seats. “It is very nice, son,” he said softly. “But I don’t see the use of it anymore.”
“What?” Kaladin asked. “Why?”
“Because of what those Radiants can do,” Lirin said. “I saw them healing with a touch! A simple gesture from an Edgedancer can seal cuts, even regrow limbs. This is wonderful, son, but … but I don’t see a use for surgeons any longer.”
Hesina leaned in to Kaladin. “He’s been moping about this the whole trip,” she whispered.
“I’m not moping,” Lirin said. “To be sad about such a major revolution in healing would be not only callous, but selfish as well. It’s just…” Lirin took a deep breath. “I guess I’ll need to find something else to do.”
Storms. Kaladin knew that exact emotion. That loss. That worry. That sudden feeling of becoming a burden.
“Father,” Kaladin said, “we have fewer than fifty Edgedancers—and just three Truthwatchers. Those are the only orders that can heal.”
Lirin looked up, cocking his head.
“We brought over a dozen with us to save Hearthstone,” Kaladin said, “because Dalinar wanted to be certain our new flying platform didn’t fall to the enemy. Most of the time those Edgedancers are serving on the battlefront, healing soldiers. The few on duty in Urithiru can be used for only the most dire of wounds.
“Plus their powers have limitations. They can’t do anything for old wounds, for example. We have a large clinic in the market staffed by ordinary surgeons, and it’s busy all hours of the day. You’re not obsolete. Trust me, you’re going to be very, very useful here.”
