“My son is long dead, bridgeman,” Lirin said, quickly packing a small bag full of surgical implements. “Kaladin kept trying to explain this, and I only recently started understanding. He doesn’t want to be my son anymore. If that’s the case, it’s difficult for me to see him as anything other than a killer and an agitator. Someone who recklessly endangered not just my family, but the lives of every human in the tower, while pursuing a vengeful grudge.”
“So you’re going to leave him to die?” Rlain demanded.
“I didn’t say that,” Lirin snapped. “Do not put words in my mouth. I’ll go as I would for anyone wounded.”
“And afterward?” he demanded. “You said—”
“I said we’d see,” Lirin said. “It’s possible I’ll need to bring him down here to give him long-term care.”
“You would give him up for execution!”
“If that’s what is required, then so be it. I’ll do my job as a surgeon, then let Kaladin deal with the consequences of his actions. I’m finished being a pawn in games of death. For either side.”
Rlain threw up his hands. “What is the point of trying to save him if you’re intending to have him killed!”
“Quiet!” Venli hissed, glancing out the flimsy drapes toward the others in the room outside. “What is going on here?”
Lirin glared at Rlain, who again hummed to Betrayal.
“Our son survived the events of the other day,” Hesina said to Venli. “This is one of his friends. He says Kaladin’s powers aren’t working properly, and his wounds aren’t healing. He’s in a coma and is slowly dying of what sounds like internal bleeding.”
“That or an infection,” Lirin said, stuffing a few more things into his bag. “Can’t tell from the description.”
“We’re not taking you to him,” Rlain said, “unless you promise not to give him and Teft up to the enemy.” He looked to the other man in the room, the newcomer, who nodded in agreement.
“Then he’ll die for certain,” Lirin snapped. “Blood on your hands.”
The two glared at each other, and Venli attuned Irritation. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about.
“I’ll go,” Hesina said, walking over and taking the surgery bag off the table.
“Hesina—”
“He’s my son too,” she said. “Let’s be on with this, Rlain. I can show you how to treat the fever and give him some anti-inflammatories, along with something to fight the infection.”
“And if it is internal bleeding?” Lirin asked. “He will need surgery. You can’t perform an operation like that in the field, Hesina.”
He sounded angry, but those were fearspren at his feet. Not angerspren. The surgeon turned away and pretended to arrange his instruments. But humans were so full of emotion, it spilled out of them. He couldn’t hide what he was feeling from Venli. Frustration. Worry.
He could say what he wanted. But he loved his son.
“He needs to be brought here,” Lirin said, his voice laden with pain as plain as any rhythm. “I will go with you to help him. Then … I want you to listen to my suggestion. If he’s in a coma, he will need long-term care. We can put him in this room and pretend he’s unconscious like the others. It’s the best way.”
“He’d rather die,” the newcomer whispered. There was something odd about his voice that Venli couldn’t place. He slurred his words.
The chamber fell silent. Save for one thing.
Timbre vibrated with excitement inside Venli. The little spren was at it so loudly, Venli was certain the others would hear. How could they not?
“It was going to catch up to Kal eventually,” Lirin said, his tone morose. “Most soldiers don’t die on the battlefield, you know. Far more die from wounds days later. My son taught you about triage, didn’t he? What did he say about people with wounds like his?”
The two former bridgemen glanced at each other.
“Make them comfortable,” the human with the slurred words said. “Give them drink. Pain medication, if you can spare it. So they are peaceful when they … when they die.”
Again the room grew quiet. All save for Timbre, practically bursting with sound.
It’s time. It’s time. It’s time!
When Venli spoke, she almost believed it was Timbre saying the words and not her.
“What if,” she said, “I knew about an Edgedancer whose powers still seem to work? One who I think we can rescue?”
* * *
It didn’t take much time to explain the plan. Venli had been thinking about this for days now; she’d only needed some practice with her powers, and a little help from Rlain.
The Edgedancer was kept in the same cell Rlain had occupied not long ago. Venli could get through that wall with ease; she was in control of her powers enough for that. The real trick would be pulling off the rescue without revealing or implicating herself.
Timbre pulsed in annoyance as Venli and Rlain hurried toward the cell. The human, Dabbid, was taking another route. Venli didn’t want to be seen walking with him.
“How did you get a Shardblade?” Rlain asked softly, to Curiosity. “And how do they not know you have one?”
“It’s a long story,” Venli said. Mostly because she hadn’t thought of a proper lie yet.
“It’s Eshonai’s, isn’t it? Do you know what happened to her? I know you said she’s dead … but how?”
She died controlled by a Voidspren, Venli thought, because I tricked her into inviting one into her gemheart. She fell into a chasm after fighting a human Shardbearer, then drowned. Alone. I found her corpse, and—under the direction of a Voidspren—desecrated it by stealing her Shards. But I don’t have them.
There was a lot she could say. “No. I got it from a dead human. I bonded it while traveling to Kholinar, before the Fused found me and the others.”
“That was when they … they…” Rlain attuned the Rhythm of the Lost.
“Yes,” Venli said to the same rhythm. “When they took the rest of our friends. They left me because Odium wanted me to travel around, telling lies about our people to ‘inspire’ the newly awakened singers.”
“I’m sorry,” Rlain said. “That must have been difficult for you, Venli.”
“I survived,” Venli said. “But if we’re going to save this Radiant, we need to be certain the Fused can’t trace this break-in to us. You can’t intervene, Rlain. The human has to manage the distraction himself.”
Rlain hummed to Consideration.
“What?” Venli asked.
“Dabbid isn’t the person I’d put in charge of something like this,” he said. “Until today, I thought he was completely mute.”
“Is he trustworthy?”
“Absolutely,” Rlain said. “He’s Bridge Four. But … well, I’d like to know why he spent so long without talking. The bridge runs hit him hard, I know, but there’s something else.” He hummed to Determination. “I won’t intervene unless something goes wrong.”
“If you do, we all have to go into hiding,” Venli said to Skepticism. “So make sure before you do anything.”