The Aether of Night

by Brandon Sanderson

  Raeth settled back in his chair, finally realizing the weight of what he’d taken upon himself. The Imperium, all who lived in its boundaries, now looked to him. He had always wished he were Shaeth, but could he really justify that longing? Would the people have been better off if he’d just let Laene take control?

  The insecurities snapped at Raeth like an unseen serpent. He’d always been a very confident man, certain in his abilities. Now, however, he was left wondering. What had he gotten himself into?

  #

  D’Naa pulled the black sash tight around her waist. The sun had set outside her window, throwing Vae Annitor into darkness.

  “Be careful, dear,” Shaad whispered, handing D’Naa a black cloak.

  D’Naa threw the cloak around her shoulders, letting its darkness envelop her. “Don’t worry about me, grandmother,” she said. “Just tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

  “Amberite is incredibly strong,” Hlin explained, “but it is crystalline, so it can be fractured. You just need to hit it in the right place.”

  “Apparently, the High Aedin use a diamond-tipped chisel and mallet to break the Aethers,” Shaad said, handing D’Naa a pair of tools. “You need to take half of the gem out of his hand.”

  D’Naa accepted the tools, nodding and letting her Aether surge slightly. Vines slithered free, twisting down her arms, the tips curling around her palm. She left her arms exposed to give the Aether freedom, but the rest of her body was swathed completely in black. She accepted a head-cloth from her grandfather, then wrapped it around her face, leaving only her eyes exposed. She had often been forced to wear such clothing when practicing with her Aether back in Kavir. The less people saw or knew, the better.

  “Be careful, dear,” Shaad warned. “He’s powerful—that’s why we chose him. Surprise him with your vines, and wrap him tightly. You are powerful too—you should be able to hold him long enough to get the Bud.”

  D’Naa nodded. “I’ll be back within the hour,” she promised, approaching the window. “And I’ll bring a chip of our Emperor’s Aether with me.”

  Chapter Seven

  While hanging out her window on the fourth floor of the palace keep, D’Naa realized her training hadn’t been quite as extensive as she’d thought. She pressed her face against the cold stone blocks, forcing herself not to look down as the wind ruffled her black cloak. Her Verdant clung to the stone, hundreds of tiny vines growing from her bare palms and feet and holding her in position. Even still, the idea of being up so far left her feeling woozy.

  “Are you all right, dear?” Shaad asked, wisps of hair escaping her bun and blowing free as leaned out over the balcony rail.

  “Just fine,” D’Naa said through clinched teeth. Blessed D’Lum! She thought. Even the rocks we climbed weren’t this high. The city extended around her, hundreds of lights shining from street lanterns, glowing Corpates, or house windows. That was another big difference—back in Kavir, everything had grown still after sunset. Here, it seemed that no one felt the need to sleep. What if one of them looked up and saw her clinging to the palace wall like a tired rocklizard?

  Don’t be silly, D’Naa! She told herself. Even if they do have lights on, they won’t be able to see you. The palace isn’t illuminated. That’s why you wear black, silly!

  “D’Naa?” Shaad asked again.

  “I’ll be fine,” D’Naa said, taking a deep breath and setting her eyes upward.

  “The prince’s chambers are on the seventh floor, dear,” Shaad explained. “They have a balcony on the south side of the palace. Just look for the largest one.”

  “Right,” D’Naa said, gritting her teeth and pulling her right hand free. Her Aether immediately let go of the rock. She suffered just a momentary stab of fear, but she didn’t fall, of course. Her Aether Bond was the strongest amongst all the Kavir students—she could hold herself from a ceiling with just one hand, her vines sticking to surfaces like ivy.

  As she began to move, her training asserted itself, and she began to crawl up the side of the massive building. Her Aether wiggled eagerly, its tiny, finger-like tendrils latching onto the rock wall’s cracks and pores. She stayed well-clear of lit balconies or windows, forced herself not to look down, and slowly edged her way up and too the right.

  Fortunately, there were plenty of things to distract her from the ground down below. The night was cold, and the wind whipped her cloak out behind her. Her fingers and toes soon grew painfully cold, and she grew vines around them, turning her hands and feet into large balls of foliage. It wasn’t visually appealing, but it did break the wind.

  In addition to the cold, there was the view. As she approached the edge of the keep, preparing to move from the west face to the southern one, she caught an unobstructed glimpse of Vae Annitor spreading out before her.

  D’Naa clung to the corner for a moment, wind curling around her and making her eyes water as she stared out over the city, with its impossibly high buildings and its sea of lights. Even at night, it was beautiful.

  A sudden noise caused her to jump in fright and duck back around the corner of the building. She clung to the wall, her heart beating frantically. She peeked around the corner with nervous eyes. A short distance, a man and woman stood on a sixth floor balcony. D’Naa didn’t recognized them—more of the endless dignitaries or ambassadors that lived on the palace’s middle floors. The woman’s giggle floated lightly on the wind, and D’Naa blushed, turning her eyes away. She climbed up the side of the wall another story before crossing from one face to the other and continuing her search.

  It wasn’t difficult to decide which rooms belonged to the Emperor. One balcony stood out from the others—it was broad and covered with potted trees and other plants, most of which were looking wan in the approaching winter weather.

  All right, D’Naa told herself. This should be easy. I climb onto the balcony, sneak into the room, and vine him.

  She approached the balcony quickly. Most of the Emperor’s rooms looked dark, though a solitary light shone softly from a window a short distance away. D’Naa approached the open balcony, then paused.

  Open? She thought with a frown, on a night this cold? She reached out tentatively, and her hand tapped against something cold and hard.

  D’Naa froze, cringing at the sound. Glass? She thought with amazement. An entire door made of glass? She felt along its surface, her eyes open wide, and eventually she found a handle in the darkness. It was, of course, locked.

  She stood, frowning. Now what? She wondered. Break the glass? No, that would be too noisy. She turned eyes to the side, noting a small window into a darkened room beside the balcony. She could see the sheen of its glass—it was cracked slightly open.

  It was small, but so was D’Naa. Taking a breath, she climbed up the wall and carefully pushed the window open. It screeched slightly anyway, making D’Naa bite her lip in anxiety. D’Naa, girl, she thought, you’d make a horrible assassin.

  Exhaling what breath she could, she stuck her head through the window and began to wiggle. It was a tight fit, and she managed to rip her cloak in the process, but eventually she got through the opening. She used her Aether to steady herself, its vines wrapping around the window sill and lowering her quietly to the ground.

  She couldn’t see anything in the room’s darkness. It had only the one small window, which was an oddity. Most of the rooms she’d visited in the palace had large, expansive windows, another of the architectural wonders D’Naa didn’t understand. If the walls were that filled with holes, what kept the ceilings from falling down?

  D’Naa felt her way through the room, her Aether’s tendrils waving in the darkness before her hands. There was a sliver of light ahead of her—an open door. D’Naa crept forward, and slid the door open with nervous fingers. She poked her head into the room—the main room, with the large balcony at the side. In the gloom she could make out the shadows of chairs and bookshelves. The light was coming from behind a mostly-closed door on the other side of the chambe
r.

  D’Naa stepped into the room with a careful step. She didn’t notice the man-shaped dark figure standing beside her door until she was mostly into the room.

  D’Naa yelped in surprise as she jumped to the side, her hand coming up defensively and letting lose a torrent of Verdant. The vines whipped forward, enwrapping the figure in a powerful grip.

  D’Naa dropped to the ground, landing on her knees, her eyes on her victim. The figure rocked slightly in its bonds, then fell forward stiffly, its body cracking mutely against the rug. The head broke free and rolled over toward D’Naa, stone eyes staring into the air.

  A statue, D’Naa thought with chagrin. I’m hopeless.

  “What is this?” a surprised voice said.

  D’Naa looked up with shock, realizing the door to the lit room was opening and a confused man was stepping out of it. Emperor Hern. He looked down, his face surprised, and their eyes met for a brief moment.

  Then Verdant exploded from D’Naa’s hands, slamming into his chest. An explosion of green wrapped his body. The Emperor mumbled a muffled cry of surprise, the vines covering his mouth. He teetered for a moment, off-balance, then fell over with a muffled thud.

  D’Naa crouched in the dim room apprehensively, waiting for guards to rush in to investigate the noise. She maintained her grip on the vines, ordering them to constrict and bracing herself for the Emperor’s struggle. Amberite and Verdant were supposed to be opposites—when they touched, they destroyed one another.

  The offensive never came. Emperor Hern struggled in his bonds, his muffled voice indignant. What’s he waiting for? D’Naa wondered.

  Whatever the reason, she probably didn’t have much time. She hurried forward, holding her vines firm. As she got close, moving to pull free the chisel and mallet, she noticed that Hern’s eyes were wide with fury and apprehension. Despite herself, D’Naa smiled. She knew she shouldn’t be so petty as to seek revenge, D’Lum expressly forbid it, but…well, some situations were just too perfect to ignore.

  #

  Raeth struggled uselessly in his bonds. So strong! He thought with amazement, unsuccessfully trying to move his arm. He’d only been wrapped in Verdant once in his life, back when he was training with Darro before their Places had been chosen. He hadn’t been able to free himself without his brother’s help, and those vines had been far weaker.

  His captor held him so tightly he had trouble breathing. Even more amazing, the assassin was a woman. He knew that Verdant women were sometimes allowed to Bond, but never High Aedin. It didn’t make sense—a regular Aedin Bond should never have been so powerful. He could feel the vines constricting around him like hundreds of snakes.

  Think, Raeth! He ordered himself as the assassin reached behind her back, probably for a knife. One day as Emperor, and he’d already managed to get himself into trouble. Shouldn’t have fallen asleep reading in the other room. Shouldn’t have stumbled out half-asleep when I heard that sound. Should have called for the guards when I first noticed something odd… .

  Struggling uselessly, Raeth commanded his Aether to grow. Immediately, Amberite began to crackle from his hand, but it stopped as soon as it touched the Verdant, and pain lanced through his arm. Her Aether was much stronger. He tried to force the blade to grow, but whenever the Amberite touched Verdant, it immediately fell to dust and sent a ripple of agony through Raeth’s arm.

  The assassin pulled something out of her sash, and then reached forward. The Verdant responded to her silent commands, and the vines began to flow and constrict, pulling Raeth’s arm to the side and separating it from his body, freeing his Amberite bud. It was a strange move—perhaps she meant to keep him from somehow freeing himself with his Amberite. Regardless of the reason, Raeth immediately commanded a sword to grow, and the Amberite responded. Unfortunately, that was as far as he could go.

  Great, Raeth thought in a half-panic. Now what? I have a weapon, but I still can’t move my arm. What is she doing, anyway? The woman knelt beside his arm, fiddling with something Raeth couldn’t see.

  Raeth struggled, straining with all the strength he had, but he could barely even wiggle. This is it, he thought with horror. Assassinated my first day as Emperor. Laene is an idiot. They’ll never let him take the throne after I’m found knifed in the night.

  Apparently, the High Senator was more daring than Raeth assumed. He hadn’t expected the man to move so quickly.

  You want free. The words appeared in his mind, like a whispered voice. Not his voice.

  Raeth froze. Was he going mad?

  You want free, the voice repeated.

  Raeth paused only slightly. Yes, I want free, Raeth thought desperately.

  Why?

  Raeth lay still, dumbfounded.

  Suddenly, pain sliced into his arm. The assassin was touching her Verdant to his Amberite sword, shattering it. What was she doing?

  Tell me why. The voice said.

  Not now, Raeth said. Later, once I’m free. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the woman raise an ominous-looking weapon in her hand.

  I will free you, the voice said.

  Raeth saw it happen. A patch of darkness split from the ceiling above. It moved like a flowing liquid, seeping downward. It was black upon black in the dark room, but it was noticeable nonetheless.

  The assassin paused, noticing his eyes. She cocked her head to the side just as the patch of darkness split, forming into a hand-like grouping of tendrils that shot down and slammed into the Verdant.

  Raeth felt a surge of power from within him, and the woman suddenly let out a cry of pain. The darkness moved in a blur, slamming into her and throwing her backward. She grunted, rolling across the floor and out of Raeth’s vision. The Verdant hissed and squirmed around him as the darkness assaulted it.

  The Verdant exploded. Scraps of vine were hurled through the room, smacking against walls and bookcases. Raeth lay stunned, surrounded by writhing fragments of Verdant.

  You are free, the voice whispered in his head.

  “Guards!” Raeth screamed, rolling to his feet.

  The assassin lay puffing on the floor, a look of fatigue on her face. Her head snapped up at his yell, however, and Raeth heard a muffled curse. She stood, whipping her arm at him.

  Raeth leapt behind a chair just as a ball of Verdant smashed into it, vines shooting forth and imprisoning the unfortunate piece of furniture. Raeth scrambled across the floor, running in a squat as Verdant exploded against the wall, vine runners creeping across the stone toward him.

  The door to his room burst open, flooding the chamber with light. Raeth barely looked up in time to see his balcony door shatter outward, a burst of Verdant plowing through it. The assassin ducked through the broken glass and threw herself off the balcony.

  Raeth lay confused on the ground beside a pulsing mass of Verdant. As its mistress went out of range, the Verdant stopped moving, hardening and turning dull brown.

  “Your majesty!” a guard said with concern, rushing over to help Raeth to his feet.

  “I’m all right,” Raeth said, wiping his brow as several more guards burst into the room.

  “What happened, my lord?” the guard asked with concern.

  “An assassin,” Raeth said, still a bit stunned. “Order a search of the palace—others may be in danger.”

  #

  D’Naa swung back onto her own balcony, breathing deeply, her heart pounding, her mask damp with sweat. Her climbing had grown frantic as lights began flaring on around her, balconies and windows lighting like sudden alarms. She’d gone so fast, in fact, that she’d stopped caring about the height, moving in broad, almost jump-like leaps, her Verdant springing out in front of her and pulling her forward.

  A part of her mind had realized the danger of her flight, and been terrified. But the terror of being captured had been even more powerful, and so she’d kept going, moving at a reckless speed. She crouched on the balcony for a moment, her heart thumping.

  He’s so powerful! She thought with a
mazement. She hadn’t even seen his Amberite begin to grow; it had destroyed her vines with blurring speed.

  “D’Naa, dear!” Shaad said, rushing forward. Hlin sat up in his chair, his face startled, his pipe drooping in his lips.

  D’Naa stood, wiggling vines drooping from her arms all the way down to the floor. She was stunned by what she’d just done—all of it, not just the escape. It had been so dangerous, so. . .thrilling.

  She smiled, pulling off her headcloth and letting her hair fall freely around her face. She breathed deeply. Her Aether was exhausted from the extended use, and her nerves were still taut from the experience. She’d failed to get the Amberite Bud, but for some reason she didn’t care. All that meant was that she’d be able to try again.

  “Oh dear,” Shaad mumbled as she took D’Naa’s facemask and cloak. “I’ve seen that look before.”

  D’Naa raised her eyebrows in question. “Where?”

  “On your grandfather’s face,” Shaad explained, “the first time we left Kavir.”

  Hlin smiled, settling back in his chair. “The girl’s had a taste of true excitement. Looks like it agrees with her.”

  Shaad frowned. “Did you get the Bud, dear?” she asked.

  D’Naa shook her head, still smiling. “It was so wonderful!” she said. “I snuck all the way up to the Emperor’s room, and then I was surprised, but it was just a statue, but then the Emperor found me, and I vined him, but then he got free and called the guards and… .”

  She paused, breathing deeply. Something still bothered her. She thought she’d seen something the moment before he escaped, something very odd…but, no, that was foolish. Hern had a powerful Amberite Bond—she shouldn’t be surprised that he’d overpowered her. Since he hadn’t struggled at first, she’d let herself get distracted, loosening her grip. Next time, she would have to move more quickly. Next time she would be ready for him.