So remain one of us, that indicated. Radiant hated his games, though Veil delighted in them. For now, however, Radiant remained in control. She was making progress.
“The catch?” she asked, holding up the broam. “The problem?”
“This power is something we call Investiture,” Mraize said. “Investiture manifests in many forms, tied to many places and many different gods. It is bound to a specific land—making it very difficult to transport. It resists. Try to carry this too far, and you’d find it increasingly difficult to move, as it became increasingly heavy.
“The same limitation restrains people who are themselves heavily Invested. Radiants, spren—anyone Connected to Roshar is bound by these laws, and cannot travel farther than Ashyn or Braize. You are imprisoned here, Radiant.”
“A prison as large as three planets,” Radiant said. “Forgive me if I don’t feel confined.”
Veil, however, was hiding. Things like this daunted her—such large-scale ideas and problems. Shallan though … Shallan wanted to soar, learn, discover. And to find that she was restricted in that discovery, even if she’d never known about the restriction, did bother her.
Mraize took the broam back. “This gemstone cannot go where it is needed. A more perfect gemstone could contain the Light long enough to go offworld, but there is still the Connection problem. This little flaw has caused untold trouble. And the one who unlocks the secret would have untold power. Literal power, Radiant. The power to change worlds…”
“So you want to unravel the secret,” Radiant said.
“I already have,” Mraize said, making a fist. “Though putting the plan into motion will be difficult. I have a job for you.”
“We don’t want another job,” Radiant said. “It is time for this association to be finished.”
“Are you certain? Are all three of you certain?”
Radiant drew her lips to a line, but she knew the truth. No, they were not certain. Reluctantly, she let Shallan emerge, hair bleeding to its natural auburn-red.
“I have news for you,” Shallan said. “Sja-anat contacted me while I was away. She agreed to your terms, and is sending one of her spren to the tower, where it will investigate your members for a possible bond.”
“Those weren’t the terms,” he said. “She was to promise me a spren to bond.”
“Considering where we started last year,” Shallan said, “you should take what you can get. It’s been difficult to contact her lately; I think she’s worried about how people are treating Renarin.”
“No,” Mraize said. “Odium watches. We must be careful. I will … accept these terms. Have you any other reports?”
“Ialai’s agents have a spy close to Dalinar,” Shallan said. “So the Sons of Honor might not be completely stamped out yet.”
“An interesting line of reasoning,” Mraize said, “but you’re wrong. The Sons of Honor don’t have an agent close to Dalinar. They simply managed to intercept some communications from one of our agents who is close to Dalinar.”
Ah … That explained a few things. Ialai didn’t have the reach to get close to Dalinar, but if she’d found a way to intercept intelligence from the Ghostbloods, the result would be the same.
Mraize didn’t lie to her, as far as she’d been able to determine. So …
“I don’t need to worry about two spies then,” Shallan said. “Only the one you have watching me, the one who killed Ialai. It’s one of Adolin’s guards, isn’t it?”
“Don’t be silly. We have no interest in men such as that. They offer us nothing.”
“Who, then?”
“I cannot betray this secret,” Mraize said. “Let’s just say that Lightweavers fascinate me, and leave it at that. And you should not fear if I did keep someone close to you. Such a person could be an … aid in times of need. Iyatil did the same for me.”
Shallan fumed. He all but promised the Ghostblood spy was among her Lightweavers, which did make sense. Mraize would want someone who could watch Shallan in places a soldier might not be able to reach. One of the deserters then? Or Ishnah? One of the newer squires? The idea made her sick.
“Iyatil has reported to Master Thaidakar,” Mraize said, “and he has accepted—after some initial anger—that we will not be able to control the Oathgates. I explained that there at least is a calming wind in this, like the riddens of a storm. With Dalinar controlling the Oathgates, he can prosecute the war against Odium.”
“And that helps your cause?”
“We have no interest in seeing the enemy rule this world, Shallan. Master Thaidakar wishes only to secure a method for gathering and transporting Stormlight.” Mraize held his broam up again. Like a miniature sun beside the real one.
“Why attack the Sons of Honor though?” Shallan asked. “At first I understood—they were trying to find Urithiru before us. But now? What threat was Ialai?”
“Now that is a brilliant question,” Mraize said, and she couldn’t suppress a thrill from Veil at being praised by him. “The secret has to do with Gavilar. The old king. What was he doing?”
“The same old question,” Shallan said. “I spent weeks researching his life under Jasnah’s tutelage. She seemed to think he was after Shardblades.”
“His aspirations were not nearly so lowly as that,” Mraize said. “He recruited others, promising them a return to the old glories and powers. Some, like Amaram, listened because of these promises—but for the same reason were as easily lured by the enemy. Others were manipulated through their religious ideals. But Gavilar … what did he truly want?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“Immortality, in part. He thought he could become like the Heralds. In his quest, he discovered a secret. He had Voidlight before the Everstorm—he carried it from Braize, the place you call Damnation. He was testing the movement of Light between worlds. And one close to him might have answers. At any rate, we couldn’t risk Ialai or the Sons of Honor recovering these secrets.”
Mraize’s chicken finished its meal. Though it had picked at and eaten the flesh, in the end it swallowed the rest of the corpse whole. Then it fluffed its feathers and hunkered down. Shallan didn’t have a lot of experience with the creature, but it seemed to dislike the cold.
So odd, how Mraize flaunted it. But she supposed that was part of who he was—he was never content blending in. Most would probably consider keeping strange exotic animals a quirk. Shallan couldn’t help but see more to it. Mraize collected trophies—she’d seen many odd things in his possession.
She blinked and took another Memory of the chicken on his arm, receiving a scratch at its neck.
“There is so much out there, little knife,” Mraize said. “Things that will rock your understanding, expand your perspective, and make into pebbles what once seemed mountains. The things you could know, Shallan. The people you could collect in your notebook, the sights you could see…”
“Tell me,” she said, finding an unexpected hunger within. “Let me see them. Let me know them.”
“These things require effort and experience,” Mraize said. “I could not simply be told of them, and neither can you. I have given you enough for now. To go further, you must hunt the secrets. Earn them.”