“As you hoped,” he replied as they walked, “we have been able to arrange the supply dumps from Kholinar to our benefit. Alavah and Ron are covertly making packs of supplies that will be easy to grab and take if we need them.”
“Excellent,” Venli said.
“I don’t know how we’ll escape without being spotted,” Dul said. “Everyone is on edge in this place, and they have guards watching carefully outside for Alethi scouts.”
“Something is going to happen, Dul,” Venli said to Determination. “The humans will try to revolt, or an attack will come, or perhaps that captive queen will find a way to turn fabrials against the Fused.
“When that happens, whatever it is, we’re going to be ready to run. I was led here through the mountains, and I memorized the route. We can sneak through those valleys, hiding from the Heavenly Ones in the tree cover. There has to be some out-of-the-way location up here in these wilds where a few dozen people can lose themselves to the world.”
Dul paused on the steps, and hummed to Hope. He nearly seemed to have tears in his eyes.
“Are you all right?” Venli asked, stopping beside him.
He hummed a little louder. “After all this time, I can taste it, Venli. An escape. A way out.”
“Be careful,” she said. “We will need some kind of ploy to convince everyone we died, so they don’t search for us. And we have to be very careful not to draw suspicion before that.”
“Understood,” he said, then hummed to Tension. “We’ve had a problem with Shumin, the new recruit.”
She hummed to Reprimand.
“She tried recruiting others,” Dul explained. “She’s been implying she knows someone planning to start a rebellion against the Fused.”
Venli hummed to Derision. She didn’t normally use Odium’s rhythms with her friends, but it fit the situation too well.
Dul sighed like a human. “It’s the same old problem, Venli. The people willing to listen to us are going to be a little unreliable—if they were fully capable or smart, they wouldn’t dare keep secrets from the Fused.”
“So what does that say about you and me?” Venli asked.
“Pretty sure that was clearly implied,” Dul said with a grin, speaking to Amusement.
“Isolate Shumin,” Venli said. “We don’t dare return her to Kholinar without supervision, but see if you can get her assigned to some kind of menial task without much time to interact with others. And emphasize to her again that she’s not to recruit.”
“Understood,” he said softly to Consolation. He glanced upward, along the wide set of winding steps. “I hear the humans almost won here on these steps. No Radiants, and they stood against Fused and Regals.”
“Briefly,” Venli said. “But … yes, it was a sight. I almost wanted them to win.”
“Is there a path for us there, Venli?” he asked to Pleading. “Go to them, help them, and get help in return?”
“You know far more about humans than I do,” Venli said. “What do your instincts say?”
He glanced away. “They don’t see us as people. Before, they wouldn’t let me and Mazish marry. One of the only times I spoke to my master was to make that request—a single word, with as much passion as I could muster. He was angry that I dared talk to him. One storming word…”
He attracted an angerspren that prowled up the steps below him, like sparking lightning. Timbre pulsed morosely. Her kind had been treated similarly. Yet Venli found herself thinking about the fight on these steps. They were valiant, these humans. Though you obviously had to be careful not to let them get too much power over you.
“When you get back to the others,” Venli said, continuing to climb, “put a few of our people on the crews that are gathering and caring for the unconscious Knights Radiant. We should watch them for an opportunity, just in case.”
She had originally hoped they would be able to train her in her powers—but that seemed impossible now. She still didn’t know if she’d be able to use them here without being detected, and was trying to think of a way to find the answer to that.
“Understood, Brightness.” He nodded to her as they reached the top of the steps, then parted ways.
Venli hummed to Longing. She hoped she wasn’t causing Dul to sing hopeless songs; though she spoke to Confidence, she didn’t know whether there would be a chance for them to escape in the coming weeks. And the more time she spent with Raboniel, the more she worried. That Fused saw things she shouldn’t be able to, piercing plots with keen eyes.
Each day Venli’s people lived in secret was another chance for them to be exposed, taken quietly in the night, and either executed or forced to become hosts for the Fused. They needed what she’d promised: to live on their own, as their own nation. Could she really provide that though? Venli, who had never touched anything in her life without making a storm of it. She had gotten one people destroyed already.
Timbre pulsed consoling ideas as Venli made her way through the corridors.
“I wish I could believe, Timbre,” she said softly. “I really wish I could. But you don’t know what you’re working with in me. You don’t understand.”
Timbre pulsed, inquisitive. She wanted to know. Venli had long remained silent about the more difficult parts of her past.
The time to share them, however, was long overdue. “The worst of it began,” Venli whispered, “when the humans visited us the second time.…”
EIGHT AND A HALF YEARS AGO
“A delicate touch…’” Jaxlim said. “‘To … To…’”
Venli froze. She looked up from her place by the wall, where she was using some paper—a gift from the humans—to play with letters and beats. Representations of sounds in a possible written language, like the humans used.
Her mother stood by the window, doing her daily recitations. The same calming songs, performed by the same beautiful voice that had been Venli’s guide all her days. The foundation upon which she’d built her life.
“‘A delicate touch…’” Jaxlim began again. But again she faltered.
“‘Nimbleform has a delicate touch,’” Venli prompted. “‘Gave the gods this form to many…’”
But her mother didn’t continue singing. She stared out the window, silent, not even humming. It was the second time this week she’d completely forgotten a stanza.
Venli rose, setting aside her work and taking her mother’s hand. She attuned Praise, but didn’t know what to say.
“I’m merely tired,” Jaxlim said. “From the stress of these strange days and their stranger visitors.” The humans had promised to return, and since their departure months ago, the family had been abuzz with different ideas of what to do about the strange creatures.
“Go,” Jaxlim said. “Find your sister. She said she’d come listen to a recitation, and at least learn the Song of Listing. I will get some sleep. That’s what I need.”
Venli helped her mother to the bed. Jaxlim had always seemed so strong, and indeed her body was fit and powerful. Yet she wobbled as she lay down, shaken. Not on the outside, but deep within.
Until recently, Jaxlim had never forgotten songs. To even suggest it would have been unthinkable.
Once her mother was situated, Venli attuned Determination and stepped out of their home—not into a forest clearing, but into a city. One of the ten ancient ones, surrounded by a broken wall and populated by the remnants of buildings.
Finding the humans had emboldened Venli’s family. Bearing newly bestowed weapons, they’d marched to the Shattered Plains and claimed a place among the ten, defeating the family who had held it before them. Once, Venli would have walked tall and proud at that victory.
Today, she was too unsettled. She went searching, ignoring cries to Joy in greeting. Where was Eshonai? Surely she hadn’t gone off again, not without telling her sibling and mother.…
Fortunately, Venli found her at a scouting tower, built up along the broken wall near the front gates of the city. Eshonai stood on the very top, watchin
g out to the northwest, the direction the humans had come from.
“Venli!” she said, grabbing her arm and pulling her to the front of the flimsy wooden scout tower. “Look! That seems like smoke in the distance. From their campfires perhaps?”
Venli looked down at the wobbly tower. Was this safe?
“I’ve been thinking about what we can learn from them,” Eshonai said to Excitement. “Oh, it will feel so good to show them to the rest of the families! That will stop everyone from doubting our word, won’t it? Seeing the humans themselves!”
“That will feel good,” Venli admitted. She knelt, holding to the wooden floor while Eshonai stood up on her toes. Storms! It looked like she was about to climb onto the railing.
“What must their cities be like?” Eshonai said. “I think I will leave with them this time. Travel the world. See it all!”
“Eshonai, no!” Venli said. And the true panic in her rhythm made Eshonai finally pause.
“Sister?” she asked.
Venli searched for the right words. To talk to Eshonai about their mother. About what … seemed to be happening. But she couldn’t confront it. It was as if by voicing her fears, she’d make them real. She wanted to pretend it was nothing. As long as she could.
“You were supposed to come today,” Venli said, “and listen to one of the songs. Maybe learn one again.”
“We have you and Mother for that,” Eshonai said, looking toward the horizon. “I haven’t the mind for it.”
But I need you with me, Venli thought. With us. Together.
I need my sister.
“I’m going to lead a scout group to go investigate that smoke,” Eshonai said, moving toward the ladder. “Tell Mother for me, will you?”
She was gone before Venli could say anything. A day later, Eshonai came back triumphant. The humans had indeed returned.
* * *
It didn’t take long for Venli to find the humans tedious.
Though they’d barely noticed her on the first visit, this time they wouldn’t leave her alone. They wanted to hear the songs over and over. It was so frustrating! They couldn’t replicate the songs if they did memorize them—they couldn’t hear the rhythms.
Worse, when she performed, the humans kept interrupting and asking for more information, more explanations, more accurate translations. Infuriating, she thought, attuned to Irritation. She’d started to learn their language because Jaxlim insisted, but it didn’t seem a good use of her time or her talents. The humans should learn her language.
When they finally let her go for the day, she stepped out of the building and welcomed the sunlight. Sitting outside were three of those dull-minded, stupid “parshmen” who didn’t have songs. Seeing them made Venli uncomfortable.
Was that what the humans thought she was like? Some simpleton? Some of her family tried to talk to the parshmen, but Venli stayed away. She didn’t like how they made her feel. They weren’t her people, any more than the humans were.
She scanned the bustling city, noting the crowds of listeners nearby. The humans drew so many gawkers. Listeners from many families—even lowly ones who didn’t have a city—came to catch a glimpse. Lines of people of all varieties of skin patterns stuffed the streets, meaning that Venli was crowded as she pushed through them.
“They probably won’t come out for a while yet,” she said to Reprimand to a group of listeners she didn’t recognize.
“You are the apprentice keeper of songs,” one of them said, “of the family who discovered the humans.” He said it to Awe, which made Venli pause. So he knew of her, did he?
“I am no apprentice,” she said. “I am simply waiting, as is respectful, upon my mother’s word before I take my place.”
She glanced back toward the building she’d left. Like many in the city, it was made of ancient walls covered in crem, with a roof of carapace. The humans had been allowed to make camp here, inside the walls, with their tents and their strange wooden vehicles that could withstand a storm. It seemed unfair that their moving structures should last better than the buildings the listeners built.
“I’ve spent many hours with them so far,” Venli said to Consideration. “What would you know of them? I can tell you.”
“Do they really lack souls?” asked a female in mateform. Silly things. Venli intended to never adopt that form.
“That’s one theory,” Venli said. “They can’t hear the rhythms, and they seem dull of speech and mind. Makes me wonder why they were so difficult for our ancestors to fight.”
“They work metal as if it were wax,” another said. “Look at that armor.”
“Far less practical than carapace would be,” Venli said.
“We don’t have carapace armor anymore,” another said.
That was true, of course; their current forms didn’t have much carapace. Most of what they knew about grander forms such as warform came from the songs. And Venli, infuriatingly, hadn’t made progress in discovering that one.
Still, wouldn’t growing your own armor be much better than what the humans did? Well, she answered a few more questions, though she wished for the listeners to notice how tired she was from reciting songs all day. Couldn’t they at least have fetched her something to drink?
Eventually she moved on, and tried to push through her bad mood. She should probably enjoy reciting songs for the humans—she did enjoy the music. But she didn’t miss that Jaxlim always had them come to Venli. Her mother didn’t want to be seen making a mistake by anyone, particularly not these humans.
Deep down, that was probably the real source of Venli’s irritation. The knot of worry that festered in her gut, making her feel helpless. And alone.
Nearby, on the street, listeners changed their rhythms. Venli suspected what it was before she turned and saw Eshonai striding down the street. Everyone knew her, of course. The one who had discovered the humans.
Venli almost went to her. But why? There was never any comfort to be found in her presence. Only more talk of the human world, their cities and their mystery. And no talk of the real problems at home Eshonai continued to ignore.
So instead, Venli slipped between two small buildings and emerged onto a street on the other side. Maybe she could go to the fields and see Demid. She started that way … then stopped. No, they had decided not to show the humans how they used Stormlight to grow plants. The songs cautioned that this secret should not be shared. So they weren’t working the fields, and Demid wouldn’t be there.
Instead Venli made her way down to the plateaus, where she could be alone. Just her and the lifespren. She attuned Peace to check the time, then settled down and stared over the broken plateaus, trying to soothe her worry about her mother. Worry that she would have to take over being keeper of songs, as she’d claimed she was to those listeners—a boast that now seemed far too puffed up.
Venli didn’t want to replace Jaxlim. She wanted to go back to the way things had been before the humans arrived.
The moment she thought that, she saw a human female leave the city above and come walking in her direction. Venli sighed. Couldn’t they leave her for one movement? Well, they all assumed she couldn’t speak their language, and so she could play dumb. And … it wouldn’t require much pretending. Their rhythmless dead language was hard to understand.
The female gestured for permission, then sat next to Venli. She was the one with the rings on her exposed hand. Some kind of surgeon, Venli had been told. She didn’t seem important. Most everyone ignored her—she was basically one of the servants.
“It’s quite impressive, isn’t it?” the human said in the listener tongue, looking over the Shattered Plains. “Something terrible must have happened here. Doesn’t seem like those plateaus could have formed naturally.”
Venli attuned Anxiety. The woman spoke the words without a rhythm, yes, but they were perfectly understandable.
“How…” Venli said, then hummed to Betrayal.
“Oh, I’ve always been good with languages,�
� the female said. “My name is Axindweth. Though few here know me by that name, I give it to you.”
“Why?”
“Because I think we’re going to be friends, Venli,” she said. “I’ve been sent to search out someone like you. Someone who remembers what your people used to be. Someone who wants to restore the glory that you’ve lost.”
“We are glorious,” Venli said, attuning Irritation and standing.
“Glorious?” Axindweth said. “Living in crem huts? Making stone tools because you’ve forgotten how to forge metal? Living all your lives in two forms, when you used to have dozens?”
“What do you know about any of this?” Venli said, turning to leave. Her mother would be very interested to hear one of the humans had been hiding the ability to speak their language.
“I know much about too many things,” the woman said. “Would you like to learn how to obtain a form of power, Venli?”
Venli looked back. “We abandoned those. They are dangerous. They let the old gods control our ancestors.”
“Isn’t it odd,” Axindweth said, “how much stock you put in what your ancestors said? A dusty old group of people that you’ve never met? If you gathered a collection of listeners from the other families, would you let them decide your future? That’s all they were, your ancient ancestors. A random group of people.”
“Not random,” Venli said to Praise. “They had strength. They left their gods to find freedom.”
“Yes,” Axindweth said. “I suppose they did.”
Venli continued on her way. Stupid human.
“There were forms of power that could heal someone, you know,” the human said idly.
Venli froze in place. Then she spun, attuning Betrayal again. How did she know about Venli’s mother?
“Yes,” Axindweth said, toying with one of her rings, staring out away from Venli. “Great things were once possible for your people. Your ancestors, the ones you revere, might have been brave. But have you ever asked yourself about the things they didn’t leave you in songs? Have you seen the holes in their stories? You bear the pain of their actions, living without forms for generations. Exiled. Shouldn’t you have the choices they did, weighing forms of power against your current life?”
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