Ua’pam pressed the bead against the deck, then held up a diamond chip—shining with Stormlight—in his other hand. He drew in the Light much as a Radiant would, breathing it into his lungs. She’d heard that this would invigorate spren, making them feel alert and awake—they could feed on Light, even if they didn’t need it to survive. Today, Ua’pam immediately used this Stormlight to manifest the bead.
The hand with the soul pressed against the deck began to glow, then something blossomed underneath it. He stood up as an ornate wooden table emerged beneath his hand, growing like a plant at a highly accelerated speed.
“So fine!” his cousin—Unativi—said, clapping his hands. It sounded like rocks striking one another. “We are lucky! A grand table.”
Ua’pam, shoulders slumping from exhaustion, nodded and dropped the drained sphere to the side for Ishnah to catch. Spren didn’t care much for the value of most gemstones; it was the Light that interested them. The bead that had been the table’s soul had vanished, replaced by the object. Interestingly, so far as Veil knew, the real table in the physical world would be unaffected by this process.
Shallan focused her attention on Ishnah, who was now trying to sketch the transformation process. Shallan had told the former thief to practice her art skills so she could better imitate lighteyed women.
“You are surprised by how nice this table is,” Ishnah said to Unativi. She reached out to touch the table. “You didn’t know what would be created before this moment?”
“No,” Unativi said. “Understand. I find furniture. I know it is furniture. But how nice?” The peakspren spread his hands in a display of ignorance.
“We must work more today,” Ua’pam explained. “Stormlight in gems runs out, but manifestations last long. Many months without reinfusion, if done by one with skill.” He slapped the table. “I have skill.”
“So you make as much cargo as you can,” Ishnah said, gesturing to the many chairs, tables, and other articles of furniture surrounding them, “before the Stormlight we gave you runs out. Then you can sell what you created.”
“Yes!” Unativi said. “Also, cousin will do the hard work. He is better.”
“You have skill,” Ua’pam said.
“You have more.” Unativi shook his head. “Skill I need. Instead you go chasing humans. Losing your mind. Going to fight?”
“Odium comes,” Ua’pam said, softly. “Odium will come here. We must fight.”
“We can run.”
“We cannot.”
The two stared at one another, and Shallan took some mental notes to add to her natural history. Too often humans—even some spren—regarded all spren as basically the same in personality and temperament. That was wrong. They might not be as fractured as the many nations of men, but they were not a monoculture.
Keep focused, Veil thought. The book you want to write is exciting, but we should make some progress on the spy today before getting distracted again.
Each of the three Lightweavers was suspicious in their own way, Beryl most so currently. That said, Ishnah had worked with actual thieves in the past, and she was the only agent who had come to Shallan instead of needing to be recruited. Ishnah had wiggled her way into being Shallan’s right-hand woman, and was the most skilled member of her Unseen Court.
The most damning fact was Ishnah’s previous fascination with the Ghostbloods. Thinking of her as a traitor made Shallan’s insides squirm, but she forced herself to confront the problem, Radiant cheering her on.
Shallan joined Ishnah as the two peakspren returned to their work. “You look overwhelmed,” Shallan noted to Ishnah. “Are you well?”
“I’ve seen into this place, Brightness.…” Ishnah closed her notebook and looked across the rolling beads. “When I Soulcast, it’s there. I see the souls of objects, hear their thoughts. I’ve dreamed of this world, but being here is different. Do you ever … feel something? Below, in the ocean?”
“Yes,” Shallan admitted. She leaned against the railing. Ishnah mimicked her posture.
Now, Veil said. Try steering the conversation in a way that implies you know something secret, something she should be ashamed about.
Steering conversations was, fortunately, comfortable for Shallan. She was good with words. Better than Veil in many cases.
“There are currents to this world, Ishnah,” Shallan said. “They move unseen. They can tow you under suddenly, abruptly, when you thought you were swimming along perfectly safe.”
“I’m … not sure what you mean by that, Brightness.”
“I think you do.”
Ishnah immediately glanced away.
Aha! Veil thought. We’re on to something already.
Too easy, Radiant thought. Don’t judge so quickly.
“We all lie, Ishnah,” Shallan continued. “Especially to ourselves. It’s part of what makes us Lightweavers. The purpose of the Ideals, however, is to make us learn to live for truth. We have to be something better, become something better, to be worthy of our spren.”
Ishnah didn’t respond, instead staring at the ocean beads passing beneath.
Give it time, Veil suggested. Don’t be in a rush to fill the silence.
Shallan obeyed, and the silence quickly became uncomfortable. She could see Ishnah shifting, not meeting her eyes. Yes, she felt guilty about something.
Now, push.
“Say it, Ishnah,” Shallan said. “It’s time to tell me.”
“I … I didn’t know what they’d do with the money, Brightness,” Ishnah finally said. “I didn’t mean for it … I mean, I was only trying to help.”
Money? Radiant thought.
Drat, Veil thought. We caught the wrong fish.
Shallan gave the conversation even more uncomfortable silence. People hated it, and would often do anything to banish it.
“How did you know?” Ishnah asked.
“I have my ways.”
“I should have guessed I couldn’t keep it quiet,” Ishnah said. She seemed younger all of a sudden, fidgeting as she spoke. She was older than Shallan, but not by that much. Old enough to be seen as a full adult. Young enough to not believe it yet.
“My old friends in the underground came to me,” Ishnah said. “They were hard up, you know? We acted so tough, but that’s the way you have to act. Pretend you’re important, pretend you’re dangerous, all while you’re actually scraping crem to get by.
“So, I started giving them some of my stipend, ostensibly to help them pull themselves up and out of that life.” She put her hand to her forehead. “Stormfather, I’m an idiot. Even I can hear how naive that sounds, saying it out loud. I should have known they just saw an opportunity in me. Everyone’s a mark. ‘Ishnah got a good break, eh? What about the rest of us?’ Of course they’d use it to set up another racket.”
I feel embarrassed, Veil thought. How did I miss hearing about this?
“Well,” Shallan said out loud, “I’m glad to hear that you aren’t intentionally funding a criminal enterprise.”
“Maybe we can clean it up quietly? It’s not as bad as you might have heard. Or … well, I guess I’m not a good one to judge that. They bought up some gambling dens, started a protection scheme in one of the lower-end markets. My money bought them some enforcers, and … I know they started using my name as proof they had authority.” She sighed. “How much does the queen know?”
“I’m honestly not sure,” Shallan said. “I haven’t told her.”
“If it means anything, I cut them off last month, once I learned what they were doing.”
Let’s push a little harder, Veil decided. Mention Mraize, imply he was involved. See if she lets anything slip.
“When did Mraize get involved?” Shallan asked.
Ishnah cocked her head, scrunching up her brow. “Who?”
“The Ghostbloods, Ishnah.”
The shorter woman grew pale, and her hand genuinely seemed to be trembling as she put it back on the railing. “Stormfather! Did I … Did they�
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“They’ve contacted you, I know.”
“If they have, I didn’t know it was them!” Ishnah said, shaken. She slumped against the railing. “What happened? Was it that man that Den threatened? Was he … Storms, Brightness. I’ve made a mess of this.”
Shallan remained in place, hands clasped, trying to determine if it was an act. She couldn’t persuade herself that it was; Ishnah appeared legitimately shocked by the implication that the Ghostbloods might have noticed her friends’ little scheme. She even caught sight of a shamespren, swimming through the beads toward them. Those were rare out here, as they were passing mountains in the Physical Realm, where no one lived.
If she’s lying, she’s good enough to fool me, Veil said.
“I thought I’d escaped the underworld,” Ishnah whispered. “I came to you, thinking you were someone powerful. Power was all I wanted … but then I saw something more. A way to be free. Everyone else lives such normal lives out in the light. No threads yanking toward the darkness. They seem happy. I suppose it was too much to assume I’d be able to really get away and belong in the light.…”
Storms. Shallan settled down and put her freehand on Ishnah’s shoulder, ashamed at having caused such pain in her friend.
That is a silly emotion, Veil thought. If Ishnah wants out, we’ve done her a favor by exposing this.
And how would we feel? Shallan asked. If someone forced us to expose all our flaws, all our lies, and hung them in the open like an unfinished painting?
“We’ll deal with this when we return, Ishnah,” Shallan said. “And I promise, I will help you clear it up. You’ve made a misstep, but we all make those as we seek our truths. You do belong in the light. You’re there now. Stay there with me.”
“I will,” Ishnah said.
“For now, if you hear any mention of the Ghostbloods, come directly to me.”
“Of course, Brightness. Thank you. For not giving up on me completely, I mean.”
Well done, Veil thought. Let’s slip in a tidbit that might get fed to Mraize, if she reports to him.
I sincerely doubt she’s the spy, Veil, Radiant said. You yourself indicated she couldn’t fool you.
I didn’t indicate that at all, Veil said. I said if she’s the spy, she’s a better actor than I am. Which would make her extremely dangerous. Shallan, find some bit of information to feed her that is distinct and interesting enough to be worth reporting, but something she’s unlikely to talk about to the other members of the team.
That felt like a tall order. But Veil wasn’t willing to offer any more advice, so Shallan soldiered forward.
“Hey,” she said to Ishnah. “Just focus on helping with the mission. I like that you’re taking notes on manifesting. Those will be useful.”
She nodded. “Is there anything else you want me to do?”
Shallan considered it, tapping her finger against the deck. “Keep your eyes open for spren that look odd,” she said softly. “You remember Sja-anat?”
“Yes,” Ishnah said. Shallan had shared about the Unmade with her and a few others.
“I think I saw a corrupted windspren flying past earlier. I can’t be certain, so keep it to yourself. I don’t want to alarm anyone. But if you’re going to be sitting back here watching the manifesting, maybe keep an eye out? And if you see an odd spren, let me know. All right?”
“I will. Thank you, Brightness. For your trust.”
Shallan squeezed Ishnah’s arm encouragingly, then wandered away. How was that? she asked.
Not bad, Veil said. Your warning will keep her from talking about it to the other Lightweavers—but corrupted spren are also something Mraize is distinctly interested in. So if she reports to him, she is likely to feed him the information. If you can find a way to tell the others you saw a different kind of corrupted spren, we’ll have planted just the right seed.
I don’t think it’s going to work, Radiant said. The idea is a clever one, but I can’t see her reporting on such a minor detail to Mraize.
You’d be surprised, Veil replied. People are always eager to prove how important their mission is, and actively search for interesting things to report. Keep going, Shallan. You’re doing very well.
Feeling bolstered, she went to find Beryl. After the previous conversation, Ishnah now seemed the least likely to be the spy. And, Ishnah had been helpful in identifying Ialai’s method of death. Besides, Mraize would know she had wanted to join the Ghostbloods—and would recognize that she’d draw suspicion.
It was probably one of the other two. And Beryl was the obvious choice. Shallan hadn’t failed to notice the way Stargyle had dropped out of the mission at the last minute, with Beryl joining the team instead—a clear sign. But perhaps too obvious?
Beryl was on Soulcasting duty today. Yesterday they’d stopped by a small strip of land—representing a river in the Physical Realm—and used pickaxes to cut out some chunks of obsidian ground. Shallan had quickly understood why the spren of this realm didn’t use obsidian for anything other than the occasional weapon; the rock was hard to work with, shattering like glass when struck.
While it wouldn’t make a good building material, they’d had success Soulcasting it into food. The stone here was eager to be something else, and could easily be persuaded to change. Today, Beryl knelt beside a stone they’d cut, and was practicing turning it into food.
Shallan lingered nearby, taking in Beryl’s tall Alethi figure, with luscious dark hair and a perfectly tan skin tone. She reminded Veil of Jasnah, only more relaxed.
She uses Lightweaving to enhance her appearance, Veil noted. Probably does it by instinct.
Today, Beryl wore a long skirt rather than a true havah, along with a sleeveless top and a pair of silk gloves that went up to her elbows. She had removed her freehand glove, and now reached out with delicate, supple fingers to caress the chunk of obsidian. She adopted an expression of concentration, and the chunk transformed to lavis grain in the blink of an eye. The clump of lavis held the shape of the obsidian for a moment, then collapsed, spreading out on the cloth underneath.
“Brightness?” Beryl asked, glancing up from her work. She was darkeyed, like many camp followers, though that didn’t really matter anymore. Importantly, she had not yet earned her Blade. “Am I doing something wrong?”
Beryl had learned Lightweaving on her own away from the structure and order of the Radiants. She was an unknown factor, a Surgebinding savant who had come with her own spren already bonded.
Shallan knelt and made a show of picking up a handful of grain and inspecting it. “You’re not doing anything wrong at all. This is good work. Most of us have trouble making individual grains.”
“Oh! It helps to have a seed,” she said, pulling some from her pocket. “Literal seeds, in this case.” She grinned, holding them up. “If you have something to show the obsidian’s soul, you intrigue it enough to want to transform.”
“That’s not how Jasnah does it,” Veil said.
“Yeah, Vathah told me. But my way works better for him too. Queen Jasnah doesn’t know everything, right?” She smiled brightly. “Or maybe it’s different for our order. It’s not her fault if she doesn’t know how Lightweavers work.”
Storms, Veil thought. I always forget how downright sunny Beryl can be.
Shallan folded her arms, thinking back to her own troubles with Soulcasting. Could it be that all along, the problem hadn’t been her, but Jasnah’s training method? They’d assumed two orders using the same power would be analogous. The Skybreakers and the Windrunners seemed to fly the same way, after all.
Then again, the way that Lightweaving worked for Truthwatchers seemed different—even if one disregarded whatever Renarin was. So maybe?
Focus, Veil thought. Try nudging her to be uncomfortable, find out if she’s hiding something.
Shallan opened her mouth to make a comment like she had to Ishnah. Something else entirely came out.
“Are you actually happy?” Shallan asked.
“Brightness?” Beryl asked, still sitting on a box next to some chunks of obsidian. “Happy?”
“There’s a lightness about you,” Shallan said. “Is it real, or are you hiding the pain?”
“I think we all hide pain to an extent,” Beryl said. “But I don’t think I’m in particular agony.”
“And your past?” Shallan asked. “It doesn’t haunt you?”
“I won’t pretend my life was easy. The profession isn’t an easy one, and the women who find their way to it often have their problems magnified. There are ways to keep it from chewing you up, however. To make it your choice, done in your way.” She grimaced. “Or at least ways to tell yourself that…”
Shallan nodded, and heard a humming behind her. Pattern—her Pattern—had wandered over, and was inspecting Beryl’s Soulcasting handiwork.
“By the end,” Beryl continued, “I had a lot of control over the men who came to me. I liked becoming the woman they wanted. It wasn’t until you came searching for me, though, that I realized the truth.” She looked straight at Shallan. “That I could walk away if I wanted to. Nothing was keeping me there. Not any longer. I could have left months earlier. Odd, isn’t it?”
“That’s how it always is,” Veil said.
“Pardon, Brightness, but it’s not. A lot of the women are worse off than me. They couldn’t simply leave; it was the moss for some, threats for others. Some of us though…” She looked at her hand and let the seeds drop into the pile. “We talk about transformation. The Almighty’s greatest blessing to humans: the ability to change. Sometimes we need a seed too, eh?”
Shallan shuffled, looking to the side as Vathah walked by with one of the peakspren sailors. Maybe she should go talk to him, see if he was the spy.
You’re uncomfortable around Beryl, Radiant thought. Is it because she seems to have a greater handle on her life, when you assume she should be worse at it?
Feelings, feelings, Veil said. Blah blah blah. Shallan, stay on topic, please.
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