That done, Veil had been left with five people. Four turned out to be wanderers. None had been open about their pasts, but over the weeks she’d met with them one by one. After conversing with each, she had reported on them to Mraize. He had eliminated each of those as possibilities.
Now, only a single name remained on her list. This person was the most reclusive of them all—but was male, and the descriptions of him from the honorspren indicated that he was probably her quarry. Today she would finally catch a glimpse of him. With the subject confirmed she could call Mraize, find out what message she was supposed to deliver to Restares, then be done with this mission.
The target called himself “Sixteen.” He supposedly came out of his home once every sixteen days exactly—the regularity of it amused the honorspren, who suffered the odd fellow because of the novelty. No one knew how he survived without food, and no one reported a terrible stench or anything like that from him—though he didn’t ever seem to bathe or empty a chamber pot. Indeed, the more she’d learned about him, the more Veil was certain this mysterious man was her target.
His home was a small box built near the statue garden. Veil had made a habit of visiting this garden, where she tried to coax Shallan out by drawing. It worked occasionally, though Shallan usually retreated after a half hour or so of sketching.
Today, Veil curled up on a bench with a sketchpad, coat enveloping her, hat shading her eyes. Today was the day that Sixteen would emerge, assuming he followed his pattern. All she had to do was wait and not act suspicious.
Shallan, Veil said, opening the sketchbook. See? It’s time to draw.
Shallan started to emerge. Unfortunately, a faint humming sound made her panic and Veil was thrust back into control. She sighed, glancing to the side—to where Pattern walked among the statues, which she’d been told were of honorspren killed in the Recreance. Tall men and women with heroic builds and clothing that—though made of stone—seemed to ripple in the wind. How odd that they’d made these; after all, the real individuals were still around, though deadeyed.
Pattern bobbed over to her. He was easy to tell from other Cryptics; he had an excitable spring to his step, while others slunk or crept, more furtive.
“I thought you were watching the Nalthians today,” Veil said.
“I was!” he said, plopping down on the bench beside her. “But Veil, I do not think any of them are Restares. They do not look like him at all. They do not even look like people from Roshar. Why do you think Azure appeared so much like an Alethi, when these have the wrong features?”
“Don’t know,” Veil said, pretending to sketch. “But this Restares could be using something like Lightweaving. I need you to watch them carefully.”
“I am sorry,” Pattern said, his pattern slowing, like a wilting plant. “I miss being with you.”
You’re worried you’ll miss something important, traitor, Shallan thought. And want an excuse to keep spying on me.
Veil sighed again. She reached over and put her hand on Pattern’s. He hummed softly.
We need to confront him, Radiant thought. We need to find out exactly why he is lying.
Veil wasn’t so certain. It was all growing so messy. Pattern, Shallan’s past, the mission they were on. She needed Shallan to remember. That would solve so much.
Wait, Radiant thought. Veil, what do you know? What do you remember that I do not?
“Veil?” Pattern asked. “Can I talk to Shallan?”
“I can’t force her to emerge, Pattern,” Veil said. Stormwinds; she suddenly felt so tired. “We can try later, if you want. For now, Sixteen is going to come out of that house in a few minutes. I need to be ready to intercept him in a way that reveals his face, but doesn’t make him suspicious of me.”
Pattern hummed. “Do you remember,” he said softly, “when we first met on the boat? With Jasnah? Mmm … You jumped in the water. She was so shocked.”
“Nothing shocks Jasnah.”
“That did. I barely remember—I was so new to your realm.”
“That wasn’t the first time we met though,” Radiant said, sitting up straighter. “Shallan had spoken oaths before, after all. She had a Shardblade.”
“Yes.” If he had been human, his posture would have been described as unnaturally still. Hands clasped, seated primly. His pattern moved, expanding, contracting, rotating upon itself. Like an explosion.
“I think,” he finally said, “we have been doing this wrong, Radiant. I once tried to help Shallan remember, and that was painful for her. Too painful. So I started to think it was good for her not to remember. And the lies were delicious. Nothing is better than a lie with so much truth.”
“The holes in her past,” Radiant said. “Shallan doesn’t want to remember them.”
“She can’t. At least not yet.”
“When Shallan summoned you as a Blade,” Radiant said, “and killed her mother, were you surprised? Did you know she was going to do something that drastic?”
“I … don’t remember,” Pattern said.
“How can you not remember?” Radiant pressed.
He remained quiet. Radiant frowned, considering the lies she’d caught him in during the last few weeks.
“Why did you want to bond a human, Pattern?” Radiant found herself asking. “In the past, you’ve seemed so certain that Shallan would kill you. Yet you bonded her anyway. Why?”
This is a dangerous line of questioning, Radiant, Veil warned. Be careful.
“Mmm…” Pattern said, humming to himself. “Why. So many answers to a why. You want the truest one, but any such truth is also a lie, as it pretends to be the only answer.” He tipped his head to the right, looking toward the sky—though so far as she knew, he didn’t “see” forward, as he didn’t have eyes. He seemed to sense all around him.
She glanced in the same direction. Colors shimmered in the sky. It was a crystalline day.
“You and the others,” Pattern said, “refer to Shadesmar as the world of the spren, and the Physical Realm as ‘your’ world. Or the ‘real’ world. That is not true. We are not two worlds, but one. And we are not two peoples, but one. Humans. Spren. Two halves. Neither complete.
“I wanted to be in the other realm. See that part of our world. And I knew danger was coming. All spren could sense it. The Oathpact was no longer working correctly. Voidspren were sneaking onto Roshar, using some kind of back door. Two halves cannot fight this enemy. We need to be whole.”
“And if Shallan killed you?”
“Mmm. I was sure you would. But together, we Cryptics thought we needed to try. And I volunteered. I thought, maybe even if I die it will be the step other spren need. You cannot reach the end of a proof without many steps in the middle, Shallan. I was to be the middle step.” He turned toward her. “I no longer believe you will kill me. Or perhaps I wish to no longer believe you will kill me. Ha ha.”
Radiant wanted to believe. She wanted to know.
This will lead to pain, Veil warned.
“Can I trust you, Pattern?” Radiant asked.
“Any answer will be a lie,” he said. “I cannot see the future like our friend Renarin. Ha ha.”