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The human leader, and the men closest to him, dropped with the rubble to die. The rest began a frantic attempt at retreat. It ended quickly.

Raboniel changed her rhythm to one of Relief, then strode back into the mural-lined corridor toward the pillar. Unwilling to watch the final slaughter, Venli turned and scurried alongside her. The sounds of bodies falling—the din of armor against stone—chased them all the way.

* * *

It is done, the Sibling whispered to Navani. Your men have fallen.

“Are you certain?” Navani asked. “What do you see?”

I used to be able to watch the entire tower. Now … I see just patches. A small portion of the sixth floor. A room on the fourth floor, with a cage in it. The place nearest the Lady of Pains. She returns. She will kill me now.

The large gemstone her people had been working on—finally primed with Stormlight—began glowing brightly. The light inside it started to shift and dance, furious. Then it drained away, vanishing.

Navani felt a spike of alarm, until the Sibling spoke into her mind. It worked. Melishi … I have hated you … but now I bless you. It worked. I am safe, for now.

Navani let out a relieved breath.

If they reach the gemstone you just infused, the Sibling said, they could corrupt me through it. You will need to destroy it.

“Will that break the shield?” Navani forced out.

No. It will weaken the shield, but that is better than the alternative. You cannot defend this place. Your soldiers on the steps have fallen.

She breathed out, and would remember to burn a prayer for the fallen when she could. But if Teofil had been killed … then the tower was captured. Navani’s only course was to surrender. She would have to hope that the barrier would last long enough either for Dalinar to reach them, or for Navani to find a way to free the Radiants.

Assuming she wasn’t killed. The Fused did not often slaughter indiscriminately, but there were reports of them executing high-ranking lighteyes. That depended on the Fused who led the individual forces, and how much the people resisted.

“Shatter that sapphire,” she said to her scholars. “Destroy the entire fabrial, cage included, and that glass globe. Send people to both the map room and the information vault to burn our maps of the tower. The rest of you, join me. We must find a way to deliver a formal surrender without being killed before we can make our intentions known.”

* * *

Raboniel approached the pillar again with some eagerness. Venli stood nearby as the Fused reached up to touch a specific set of gemstones that were embedded in the construction, then began infusing those with Voidlight.

As soon as she’d begun, though, she hesitated. “Something curious is happening here. There is Stormlight in the system. That shouldn’t be possible; the Sibling cannot create it.”

“I thought that Stormlight was what the Radiants, and their fabrials, always used,” Venli said.

“The tower is something else.” She glanced at Venli, noting her confusion—and unlike many Fused, she chose to explain. “The Sibling—the tower, Urithiru—is the child of Honor and Cultivation, created to fight Odium. The place runs on the Sibling’s Light, a mixture of the essences of its parents. Stormlight alone shouldn’t be able to work the tower’s core systems. Stormlight, to the Sibling, is incomplete. Like a key missing several of its teeth.”

“And with Voidlight, you’re using a key … with no teeth?” Venli asked.

“I’m not using a key at all. I’m breaking the lock.” Raboniel put her hands on the pillar, infusing another specific gemstone. “The Sibling is insensate, completely unaware that we are here. That I can determine. I can corrupt them, awaken them to serve us. Just as I expected. But also, there is Stormlight. I feel it, a large amount. Perhaps … it’s simply the power they’re using to work the pumps, or the lifts. Not true parts of the Sibling; systems added later, attached to the construction. Those could take Stormlight alone.…”

Raboniel stopped and stepped back, humming to Craving—a rhythm to indicate confusion or a question. And then a wave of blue light began to expand from the pillar. She stumbled away, and Venli joined her, dashing out into the corridor—where the blue light stopped and seemed to solidify, blocking the way.

Raboniel stepped forward and rested a hand on it. “Solid,” she said. “And powered by Stormlight, judging by the tone…”

Venli anticipated anger. This shield, whatever it was, clearly thwarted whatever the Lady of Wishes was doing. Instead she seemed fascinated.

“Remarkable, truly remarkable,” Raboniel said, tapping the shield with her knife. It clicked like glass when touched. “This is incredible.”

“Does it ruin our plans?” Venli asked.

“Absolutely.”

“And … you don’t mind?”

“Of course not. This is going to be so interesting to crack open. I was right. The answers, the way to end the war, must be here.”

A shimmer of red lightning moved across the ground up the hallway. Venli had seen this before—a spren like lightning running along a surface. Indeed, it materialized into the shape of a small human—not a singer, but a human, with odd eyes and hair that waved in an unseen wind.

Ulim. The first Voidspren she’d ever met, all those years ago. “Lady of Wishes,” he said, performing a flowery bow. “We have located the Blackthorn’s wife, queen of this tower.”

“Oh?” Raboniel asked. “Where was she hiding?”

“A Deepest One—the Caller of Springs—found her near a strange fabrial that is now unfortunately destroyed. The Caller summoned a force and captured Queen Blackthorn, who has come peacefully. She is now asking to speak with whomever was leading our assault. Shall I have her killed?”

“Don’t be wasteful, Ulim,” Raboniel said. “The Blackthorn’s wife will make a very useful pawn. I would have thought better of you.”

“Normally I would be nothing but eager for a new toy,” Ulim said. “But this woman is dangerous and crafty. Reports say she’s the one who created the flying machine that raided Alethkar last month.”

“Then we certainly won’t kill her,” Raboniel said.

“She could be seen as a symbol to the people of this tower…” Ulim said. Then the small spren cocked his head, looking at the shield covering the doorway. “What’s that?”

“You only just noticed it?” Venli asked.

Ulim glanced at her, then turned away, pretending to ignore her. What did he think of Venli now, all these years later? He’d made such promises to her. Was he embarrassed that she’d lived, knowing what a liar he was?

“It is a puzzle,” Raboniel said. “Come. I would meet this queen of the tower.”

* * *

Navani composed herself, standing with hands clasped before her, surrounded by singer soldiers. Though the effects of fatigue made her want to droop, she kept her head high. She wished she had chosen a formal havah today, instead of this simple work dress with a gloved hand, but that couldn’t be helped. A queen was a queen, regardless of what she wore. She kept her expression calm, though she wasn’t certain whether she was awaiting imprisonment or death.

They had immediately separated her from the others, naturally, and had taken her arm sheath with its fabrials. She wished she could burn a prayer to the Almighty that her scholars would be kept safe. The only reason to surrender was to protect them and the others of the tower. In this, the Fused had been wise. They’d made it clear time and time again that they didn’t slaughter populations who surrendered. You always knew you had an out. All you had to do was submit.


Tags: Brandon Sanderson The Stormlight Archive Fantasy