“Well…”
Her mother’s dead face, eyes burned.
“It hasn’t been going on for long,” Shallan said. “A few months for most of us. A few years for some…”
“We had hoped this day would never come.” He turned to march toward the high deck.
“Captain?” Shallan asked. “Why did you let us out? If you’re so worried about Radiants, why not just keep us locked away?”
“It wasn’t honorable,” the captain said. “You are not prisoners.”
“What are we, then?”
“Stormfather only knows. Fortunately, I don’t have to sort it out. We’ll deliver you and the Ancient Daughter to someone with more authority. Until then, please try not to break my ship.”
* * *
As days passed, Shallan fell into a routine on the honorspren ship. She spent most days sitting on the main deck, near the wale. They let her have beads in plenitude to play with, but most of them were useless things. Rocks, sticks, bits of clothing. Still, it was useful to visualize them. Hold them, meditate on them. Understand them?
Objects had desires. Simple desires, true, but they could adhere to those desires with passion—as she’d learned during her few attempts at Soulcasting. Now, she didn’t try to change those desires. She just learned to touch them, and to listen.
She felt a familiarity to some of the beads. A growing understanding that, perhaps, she could make their souls blossom from beads into full-fledged objects on this side. Manifestations, they were called.
Between practices with the beads, she did sketches. Some worked, some didn’t. She wore the skirt that Adolin had purchased for her, hoping it would make her feel more like Shallan. Veil kept poking through, which could be useful—but the way it just kind of happened was frightening to her. This was the opposite of what Wit had told her to do, wasn’t it?
Kaladin spent the days pacing the main deck, glaring at honorspren he passed. He looked like a caged beast. Shallan felt some of his same urgency. They hadn’t seen any sign of the enemy, not since that day in Celebrant. But she slept uneasily each night, worried that she’d wake to calls of an enemy ship approaching them. Notum had confirmed that the Voidspren were creating their own empire in Shadesmar. And they controlled Cultivation’s Perpendicularity, the easiest way to get between realms.
Shallan sorted through another handful of beads, feeling the impression of a small dagger, a rock, a piece of fruit that had started to see itself as something new—something that could grow into its own identity, rather than merely a part of the whole.
What would someone see when looking at her soul? Would it give a single, unified impression? Many different ideas of what it was to be her?
Nearby, the ship’s first mate—an honorspren woman with short hair and an angular face—left the hold. Curiously, she was carrying Azure’s Shardblade. She stepped onto the main deck, beneath the shadow of the high deck, and went hiking toward Azure, who stood watching the ocean pass nearby.
Curious, Shallan pocketed the bead representing a knife—just in case—then left the bucket on top of her sketchbook and walked over. Nearby, Kaladin was pacing again, and he also noticed the sword.
“Draw her carefully,” Azure said to Borea, the first mate, as Shallan approached. “Don’t pull her out all the way—she doesn’t know you.”
Borea wore a uniform like the captain’s, all stiff and no-nonsense. She undid a small latch on the Shardblade, eased it from its sheath a half inch, then drew in a sharp breath. “It … tingles.”
“She’s investigating you,” Azure said.
“It really is as you say,” Borea said. “A Shardblade that requires no spren—no enslavement. This is something else. How did you do it?”
“I will trade knowledge, per our deal, once we arrive.”
Borea snapped the Blade closed. “A good bond, human. We accept your offer.” Surprisingly, the woman held the weapon toward Azure, who took it.
Shallan stepped closer, watching as Borea walked off toward the steps up to the high deck.
“How?” Shallan asked as Azure belted on the sword. “You got them to give your weapon back?”
“They’re quite reasonable,” Azure said, “so long as you make the right promises. I’ve negotiated for passage and an exchange of information, once we reach Lasting Integrity.”
“You’ve done what?” Kaladin said. He stalked over. “What did I just hear?”
“I’ve made a deal, Stormblessed,” Azure said, meeting his gaze. “I’ll be free, once we reach their stronghold.”
“We’re not going to reach their stronghold,” Kaladin said softly. “We’re going to escape.”
“I’m not your soldier, or even Adolin’s subject. I’m going to do what gets me to the perpendicularity—and, barring that, I’m going to find out what these people know about the criminal I’m hunting.”
“You’d throw away honor for a bounty?”
“I’m only here because you two—through no fault of your own, I admit—trapped me. I don’t blame you, but I’m also not indebted to your mission.”
“Traitor,” he said softly.
Azure gave him a flat look. “At some point, Kal, you need to admit that the best thing you can do right now is go with these spren. At their stronghold, you could clear up this misunderstanding, then move on.”
“That could take weeks.”
“I wasn’t aware we were on a schedule.”
“Dalinar is in danger. Don’t you care?”
“About a man I don’t know?” Azure said. “In danger from a threat you can’t define, happening at a time you can’t pinpoint?” She folded her arms. “Forgive me for not sharing in your anxiety.”
Kaladin set his jaw, then turned and stalked away—right up the steps toward the high deck. They weren’t supposed to go up there, but sometimes rules didn’t seem to apply to Kaladin Stormblessed.
Azure shook her head, then turned and gripped the ship railing.
“He’s just having a bad day, Azure,” Shallan said. “I think he feels anxious because his spren is imprisoned.”
“Maybe. I’ve seen a lot of young hotheads in my time, and young Stormblessed feels like another color altogether. I wish I knew what it was he was so desperate to prove.”
Shallan nodded, then glanced again at Azure’s sword. “You said … the honorspren have information on your bounty?”
“Yeah. Borea thinks the weapon I’m chasing passed through their fortress a few years ago.”
“Your bounty is a … weapon?”
“And the one who brought it to your land. A Shardblade that bleeds black smoke.” Azure turned toward her. “I don’t mean to be callous, Shallan. I realize you’re all eager to return to your lands. I can even believe that—through some tide of Fortune—Kaladin Stormblessed has foreseen some danger.”
Shallan shivered. Be wary of anyone who claims to be able to see the future.
“But,” Azure continued, “even if his mission is critical, it doesn’t mean mine isn’t as well.”