Chapter 26

I continued on my way, contemplating dust and the nature of desertion. For I, as king, had walked away from my duties, and it was different for me. Had I not renounced a throne the Almighty had granted, and in so doing, undermined my very own words? Was I abandoning that which was divinely given me?

—From The Way of Kings , fourth parable

S hallan stared at Iyatil. The woman’s eyes seemed distant behind that mask, and strangely human—as if the mask were some beast that had swallowed a person.

Iyatil repeated her comment in, presumably, their native tongue. In a panic, Shallan reached for the spanreed in her sleeve, ready to call the others. Only … she hadn’t actually learned anything yet. How were the Ghostbloods going to sneak through to the Spiritual Realm with Dalinar? Why were they so interested in one of the Unmade? They’d already made contact with Sja-anat. Wasn’t that enough?

There was no helping it. If Iyatil hadn’t been suspicious before, she would be when she got no reply. Shallan gripped the spanreed.

But Veil whispered: You can do this, Shallan. Try.

Shallan couldn’t understand what Iyatil had said, but what was her body language saying? Iyatil nodded to the side, toward the third masked offworlder. Her words had been short and terse, maybe a question, more likely an order. So, risking it, Shallan gave a curt nod.

That worked, and Iyatil scurried back toward the doorway in the eastern wall, Shallan following. The third assassin met them, and they huddled together, with Iyatil speaking quickly in their own language. In the center of the room, Mraize hinted to the others what Shallan had guessed: that with some minor tweaks, the hand ballista would be very useful in coming years.

Shallan couldn’t pay attention to him, for she had now gotten herself into a conversation with not merely one person speaking another tongue, but two. They’d expect a response other than a nod. She had to escape the conversation without making a scene.

Find an excuse, Veil whispered, for not paying attention.

Yes … distractibility was a universal human foible. Unfortunately there wasn’t much in the room. Just the targets, Mraize and his crew, four bleak stone walls …

Wait. The doorknob. Silvery, polished, reflective. Being crouched down together as they were put it near eye level. Shallan fixated on it, waiting until the others noticed her distraction.

“ Aleen? ” Iyatil said to Shallan. “ Aleen, vat ist erest missen? ”

Shallan pointed at the doorknob and spoke, whispering a word that would be the same regardless of language. “Sja-anat.” The whisper hopefully masked her voice.

Iyatil hissed softly, pushing Shallan aside to look closely at the doorknob. When she saw nothing, she grunted, and—ignoring their conversation—stalked toward Mraize. The other foreigner glanced at Shallan, so she shrugged, then leaned in to study the doorknob. He moved off after Iyatil.

Shallan calmed her nerves, avoiding drawing a spren this time. Iyatil had taken the bait, and hadn’t seemed to find anything too irregular about Shallan. Unless she was telling Mraize she was an impostor right now. Maybe it was time to call the others. Shallan reached again for her spanreed, but a moment later a shadow moved across the doorknob, and then Sja-anat appeared as she had earlier: a jet-black female figure with white holes for eyes.

I wondered, she said in Shallan’s mind, how you would manage without speaking her tongue, Shallan. That was clever.

“So you do know it’s me,” Shallan whispered.

It is difficult for mortals to distinguish one soul’s flame from another, but I am not mortal.

“Are you going to reveal me?”

As you just revealed me? Perhaps.

“Whose side are you on, Sja-anat?” Shallan whispered. “Truly. What is your game?”

Game, Shallan? I fight for survival. Odium will rip through anyone, anything, to get what he wishes. Thousands of years have proven he cares nothing for me or my children. Honor is a coward who always hated us. Destroyed us. Betrayed us. And all Cultivation does is watch.

I am on the side of preserving a world for my children. You should not fear “my side,” Shallan. You should embrace it. If there is room for my children, there will be room for yours.

Iyatil returned, Mraize tailing her. Again Shallan gripped the spanreed but held her nerve. Sja-anat did not hide, but persisted—small, but distinguishable, as a reflection in the doorknob, looking up at Iyatil.

“Lieke, stay here,” Iyatil said in Alethi. “Entertain the others.” She opened the door, grabbing the doorknob despite the reflection there. Mraize followed, as did Shallan, assuming that Lieke was the other masked figure.

Shade and the actor were gone from this little alcove. It was darker in here, where the sole light was provided by chips—painted on one side, to shine only on Mraize’s treasures.

“There,” Iyatil said. “My trophy case. I see her reflection.”

Wait … her trophy case? It wasn’t Mraize’s?

Iyatil pulled a mirror out on wheels from behind one of the cabinets. Shallan closed the door to the other room softly, then stayed back, trying not to draw attention.

Sja-anat appeared in the mirror, all slender smoke and magnetic eyes.

“Why are you here?” Iyatil demanded. “You’re supposed to be watching the Bondsmiths. Have they begun the process?”

“My children watch,” Sja-anat said, her voice tinny and small, as if she were communicating down the length of a long hallway. “The Sibling is awake. They are not easy to fool, even for me. I myself would draw attention.”

“This isn’t what you told us,” Iyatil said. “The timing will be tight. We need to get into Shadesmar and be ready to enter Dalinar’s perpendicularity as soon as it opens.”

“You will not miss your opportunity,” Sja-anat said. “Though I question your eagerness to be lost in that place.”

“You said our spren could guide us,” Mraize said, stepping closer to the mirror. “You said they understood that realm.”

Our spren?

Our spren?

Shallan backed up a pace, pressing against the cold stone wall. Mraize and Iyatil had spren? They were Radiant?

That’s why they were so eager to meet Sja-anat! Veil said. Sja-anat’s requirements for those who bonded her children were different from those of ordinary Radiants.

Storms. Shallan had been key to facilitating Sja-anat meeting with the Ghostbloods. She’d known all along that her flirtatious half-commitment to the Ghostbloods was dangerous. Here was proof. Why had she let it go on for so long?

You were confused, Radiant said, far from home, and you thought Jasnah was dead. You needed to feel a part of something. Do not be too hard on yourself.

Shallan had made many mistakes, yes, but she hoped she was learning from them. Today she stepped forward, closer to Iyatil and Mraize, hoping to catch signs of their spren—to tell what orders they had joined. Or … if they had bonded Sja-anat’s children, were they actually Radiants? Renarin was, but he’d chosen to take the title for himself.

In her shock, she’d missed some of what Sja-anat was saying. Assurances that her children could offer guidance in the Spiritual Realm. “There is only so much that can be done for mortals,” the Unmade continued. “Like a fish suddenly on the land, you will be in a place that is hostile to your existence. My children will guide you, but you still may not return.”

“We will go regardless,” Mraize said softly.

“And I am glad,” Sja-anat said. “One last warning, however. I do not think you will find an ally in my sister. Mishram is not … fond of humans.”

“We are not seeking an ally,” Iyatil said. “Tell us when Dalinar starts getting ready, so we may prepare.”

“As you wish,” Sja-anat said. “My children say he is talking to his advisors. He is close though.”

“What of Shallan?” Mraize asked. “Does she hunt us?”

“She does,” Sja-anat said. And did not look toward Shallan standing behind them.

Shallan didn’t spot a spren on Mraize’s clothing or shoulder, but she did note the quiver of crossbow bolts at his side. Specifically, one had a gemstone affixed with white-blue light that warped the air around it. Shallan hadn’t seen the anti-Light, but Wit had told her about it, and she recognized it from the description.

Mraize, as ever, had worked quickly and efficiently. So far as Shallan knew, there was barely a tiny bit of the stuff in Urithiru, carefully locked away. Yet Mraize had already stolen some. She couldn’t help but be impressed.

“I’m worried Shallan will interfere,” he said.

“The girl is distracted,” Iyatil said. “You fixate upon her too much, acolyte. We made the proper threats; her attention will be on protecting and watching her loved ones.”

“Yes, Babsk, ” Mraize said.

They’re human, Veil whispered. Fallible. Remember that.

Iyatil waved Mraize off, and he bowed to her. It felt strange to see him defer; he had always seemed so in command. Though there was a level of self-control to his obedience. Mraize did not complain or seem upset to be dismissed. He walked with his head held high, opening the door to reveal the Ghostbloods practicing with his oversized crossbow.

Sja-anat vanished, and Shallan followed Mraize, trying not to be trapped with Iyatil. Unfortunately, the woman put her hand up to stop Shallan.

“Something is wrong with him,” Iyatil said softly. “I do not think he has been replaced with a duplicate, but I do question his loyalty to our cause.”

Thankfully, the words were in Alethi. Perhaps because she’d just been speaking to Sja-anat in that tongue, and continued on momentum. Perhaps it was because in this room, away from the others, she didn’t worry about being overheard. Or perhaps with Sja-anat around … she wanted to be?

Iyatil still focused on Mraize, thoughtful. “I’ve spent so long training him. It is natural for him to want his own acolytes. But he thinks solely of his own advancement, and not the greater purpose.”

Shallan needed to push. She needed answers. She found herself speaking in a whisper. “Thaidakar’s purpose.”

“Master Thaidakar will see eventually,” Iyatil said. “He is smarter than you give him credit for. He works to protect his homeland above all else, but once we find Mishram for my purposes, he will see. Master Thaidakar can only protect his land if the Shards can be controlled. Will this fit your plans as well?”

Stay silent? Or speak? Which was more suspicious?

Iyatil looked at her, waiting. Shallan sweated, and tried giving a nod again.

“That’s it?” Iyatil said. “You’ve been so …”

She focused on Shallan, eyes widening behind her mask. Shockspren exploded around her. Damnation. That was it.

Iyatil lunged, and Shallan caught the hand, expecting a knife—but Iyatil wasn’t attacking. She was reaching for Shallan’s hood, and in her deflection Shallan knocked it aside, revealing her wig.

Iyatil hissed, then shouted, scrambling backward, “Radiants! We are discovered!”