Words of Radiance

Perhaps the not best choice of words for Dalinar.

“Brightlord Dalinar!”

Shallan spun, alert, suddenly worried that someone had seen what she did. A lithe messenger approached the tent, dripping wet, locks of hair undone from her braids and sticking to her face. “Brightlord Dalinar! Parshendi spotted, sir!”

“Where?”

“Eastern side of this plateau,” the messenger said, panting. “Scouting party, we think.”

Dalinar looked from the messenger to Shallan, then cursed and started out into the rain.

Shallan tossed her sketchpad onto her chair and followed.

“This could be dangerous,” Dalinar said.

“I appreciate the concern, Brightlord,” she said softly. “But I think I could actually take a spear through the stomach, and my abilities would heal me up without a scar. I’m probably the most difficult person to kill in this entire camp.”

Dalinar strode in silence for a moment. “The fall into the chasm?” he asked softly.

“Yes. I think I must have rescued Captain Kaladin too, though I don’t know how I managed that.”

He grunted. They moved quickly through the rain, the water wetting Shallan’s hair and clothing. She practically had to jog to keep pace with Dalinar. Storming Alethi and their long legs. Guards ran up, members of Bridge Four, and fell in around them.

She heard shouting in the distance. Dalinar sent the guards into a wider perimeter to give himself and Shallan a measure of privacy.

“Can you Soulcast?” Dalinar asked softly. “Like Jasnah did?”

“Yes,” Shallan said. “But I haven’t practiced it much.”

“It could prove very useful.”

“It’s also very dangerous. Jasnah didn’t want me practicing without her, though now that she’s gone… Well, I will do more with it, eventually. Sir, please don’t tell anyone about this. For now, at least.”

“This was why Jasnah took you on as a ward,” Dalinar said. “It’s why she wanted you marrying Adolin, isn’t it? To bind you to us?”

“Yes,” Shallan said, blushing in the darkness.

“A great many things make more sense now. I will tell Navani about you, but nobody else, and I will swear her to secrecy. She can keep a secret, if she has to.”

She opened her mouth to say yes, but stopped herself. Was that what Jasnah would have said?

“We’ll send you back to the warcamps,” Dalinar continued, eyes forward, speaking softly. “Immediately, with an escort. I don’t care how hard you are to kill. You’re too valuable to risk on this expedition.”

“Brightlord,” Shallan said, splashing through a pool of water, glad she was wearing boots and leggings under the skirt, “you are not my king, nor are you my highprince. You have no authority over me. My duty is to find Urithiru, so you will not be sending me back. And, by your honor, I will have your promise not to tell a soul what I can do unless I give leave. That includes Brightness Navani.”

He stopped in place, and stared at her in surprise. Then he grunted, his face barely visible. “I see Jasnah in you.”

Rarely had Shallan been given such a compliment.

Lights bobbed and approached in the rain, soldiers bearing sphere lanterns. Vathah and his men jogged up, having been left behind, and Bridge Four held them back for the moment.

“Very well, Brightness,” Dalinar said to Shallan. “Your secret will remain one, for now. We will consult further, once this expedition is done. You have read of the things I have been seeing?”

She nodded.

“The world is about to change,” Dalinar said. He took a deep breath. “You give me hope, true hope, that we can change it in the right way.”

The approaching scouts saluted, and Bridge Four parted to allow their leader access to Dalinar. He was a portly man with a brown hat that reminded her of the one Veil wore, except it was wide-brimmed. The scout wore soldier’s trousers, but a leather jacket over them, and certainly didn’t seem in fighting shape.

“Bashin,” Dalinar said.

“Parshendi on that plateau next to us, sir,” Bashin said, pointing. “The Parshendi stumbled over one of my scouting teams. The lads raised the alarm quickly, but we lost all three men.”

Dalinar cursed softly, then turned toward Highlord Teleb, who had approached from the other direction, wearing his Shardplate, which he’d painted silver. “Wake the army, Teleb. Everyone on alert.”

“Yes, Brightlord,” Teleb said.

“Brightlord Dalinar,” Bashin said, “the lads took down one of those shellheads before being killed themselves. Sir… you need to see this. Something has changed.”

Shallan shivered, feeling sodden and cold. She’d brought clothing that would last well in the rain, of course, but that didn’t mean standing out here was comfortable. Though they wore coats, nobody else seemed to pay much heed. Likely, they took it for granted that during the Weeping, you were going to get soaked. That was something else for which her sheltered childhood had not prepared her.