12

“We’re here, Chiri-Chiri,” Rysn whispered as several of the sailors set her into her chair on the quarterdeck. “Look. I’ve brought you home.”

Chiri-Chiri nestled into her arms and barely moved. Rysn held her close as the captain and her brother conversed quietly nearby. Storms . . . the island looked so . . . surreal, with that too-still ocean, the distant fog, that strange rock palisade in the waters around it. The island itself was low and flat, except for that part near the center. Were those walls or a natural plateau?

The crew had gathered on deck, mingled with anticipationspren, like red streamers waving in an unfelt wind. Rysn wasn’t close enough to hear what they whispered to one another, and she almost tried to pull herself along the rail to get closer. Only a few days with her hovering chair, and already she relied on it.

Well, if this place turned out to be an enemy stronghold, they might have to leave quickly. She didn’t want to risk the floating chair, so she’d ordered it stowed and had the gemstones in her pocket. Her quarterdeck seat would have to do.

So she sat quietly, trying not to feel overwhelmed. They were here, finally. Rysn had brought them here. How would Vstim have proceeded? She didn’t know. She had learned his wisdom, but now she simply had to trust her own instincts.

That was more frightening to her than it had ever been before. “Captain,” she said, calling toward Drlwan. “What do you think? What news from the eel’s nest?”

The woman strode over. “I have three men with spyglasses searching for anything suspicious,” the captain said. “No signs of life, though there are definitely structures farther in. Not much wind here, oddly, but we can use oars to maneuver. These waters look treacherous, so we’ll want to go slowly. The depths around Aimia often have hidden hazards beneath the surface.

“Assuming all goes well, we could maneuver through that gap and get in close to the island.” She hesitated. “Rebsk, the lookouts report what appear to be gemhearts on the beach. Just lying there, discarded among the shells of fallen beasts.”

Curious. Rysn took a deep breath. “I authorize a slow approach. Warn me if anything new is spotted, and kindly have someone ask the Radiants and their party to come speak with me.” She could see Lopen, Huio, and Rushu chatting softly with Cord down on the main deck.

The captain ordered some of the sailors to man the oars, and soon they were gliding carefully toward the ring of tall rocks that surrounded the island. They reminded her of the obelisks the Deshi nomads set up at their various waystops.

Eerily, the only sounds were those of the oars on the water—a stark counterpoint to the raging winds and waters they’d left behind. As they moved—checking depth on both sides of the ship every minute or two—the Radiants and their friends stepped up onto the quarterdeck.

“What do you see, Cord?” Rysn asked in Veden.

“Luckspren,” she said, pointing overhead. “But they’re not approaching the island. There are dozens upon dozens flying around out here. Lopen showed me a shadow of something under the water that he thinks might be what drained Stormlight from the other Radiants, but I saw no spren. The shadow vanished quickly, but I think he must be toa, not liki. Um, I think you say physical, and not . . . mind? Of the mind world?”

“Curious,” Rysn replied, though she wasn’t entirely certain she understood.

“Hey,” Lopen said. “You speak . . . um . . . is that . . .”

“Veden,” Rysn said in Alethi. “I do.”

“I might be able to get the ship through that gap,” the captain said, walking over. “How would you like to proceed, Rebsk?”

“Take us as close as you dare, Captain,” Rysn said.

Drlwan skillfully guided them up to the gap and, after another check of depths, sailed the ship right through the opening. The captain brought them in close enough to the island that Rysn could make out bleached carapace on the shore—the remnants of ancient greatshells. Again she held up Chiri-Chiri, hoping to get some reaction. Talik had said they should come here. But what now?

Chiri-Chiri didn’t seem interested in the place, though she did look up toward the sky and then stirred, chirping softly. Rysn placed Chiri-Chiri carefully in her lap, and the creature didn’t move much, but did keep her attention on the sky. Could she sense those invisible spren, perhaps?

Kstled stepped up and handed Rysn a spyglass. Through it, she easily made out the carapace husks as well as large diamond gemhearts lying scattered around. Dun, showing no light, they lay as if they’d fallen right where the beasts had died. Something about that struck her as odd.

“Orders, Rebsk?” the captain asked her.

Orders. It was time to be in charge. She ignored her fluttering heart, her worry for Chiri-Chiri. “Radiant the Lopen and Ardent Rushu. I assume you two will want to be on with your secret mission?”

The two shared a glance, and were embarrassed enough to draw a few shamespren, like floating flower petals.

“Er, yes, Brightness,” Rushu said. “We’ll want to strike inward, toward those buildings.”

“I suggest letting my men do a quick reconnaissance before you do so,” Rysn said. “Kstled, take a large contingent of sailors and—leaving non-combatants on the ship for now—secure the beach. Report anything unusual.”

He bowed to her, then went to gather the sailors. As the rowboats were lowered, Lopen and Huio climbed aboard. So did Rushu.

“Ardent Rushu?” Rysn called after her. “I suggest you wait until we’re certain the beach is safe.”

“A fine suggestion!” Rushu called back. “But don’t worry about me, Brightness.” And she settled herself on the bench of one of the boats.

Well, she wasn’t technically under Rysn’s authority. So she could do as she wished. Cord wisely didn’t insist on going—instead she knelt beside Rysn’s chair, then turned her gaze from Chiri-Chiri up toward the sky.

Was there a connection between the luckspren and Chiri-Chiri? Skyeels were the only other creature her size that could fly, and they were often accompanied by luckspren.

Chiri-Chiri chirped again, an encouraging sign. Rysn gave her a sphere to eat, then glanced over her shoulder toward the storm. The fog obscured much of that, but in clearer patches she could see a sweeping barrier of wind and tempest. Like the stormwall of a highstorm, only blowing circularly.

“We should finish this as quickly as possible,” Rysn said to Drlwan, who still stood nearby. “Once we’re certain the shore is safe, have some of the sailors begin scouting around the perimeter of the island. We can collect any interesting artifacts and give the Radiants time to—”

Chiri-Chiri thrashed in her lap. Rysn looked down as the creature perked up for the first time in weeks, then stood, her wings fluttering. She was still staring at the sky.

“Cord?” Rysn said in Veden. “Is she seeing luckspren?”

“I think so,” Cord said. “They’ve begun to fly lower.”

Rysn squinted, and believed she could see them. Faint arrowhead figures shimmering in the air. Chiri-Chiri chirped louder. Rysn found her heart beating faster, her breaths quickening. She’d begun to worry that this had somehow all been in vain, that there would be nothing here to help Chiri-Chiri.

The larkin zipped into the air. Storms, it had been forever since she’d flown so energetically!

The luckspren began moving more quickly. Rysn lost sight of them, and Cord gasped. Chiri-Chiri immediately tucked and dove straight down into the water.

Rysn cried out, her excitement bleeding into panic. She twisted and leaned over the side, joined by Cord. Chiri-Chiri swiftly vanished into the shadows, moving beneath some rocks and out of sight.

“She followed the spren . . .” Cord whispered. “Something is happening. Something is odd. . . .” She narrowed her eyes.

The captain stepped to the rail. “Did . . . you know it could swim?”

Rysn shook her head, feeling an alarming spike of loss. What if . . . what if Chiri-Chiri never came back? What if by bringing her here, Rysn had unwittingly offered her freedom—and she’d taken it? Well . . . Rysn tried to be positive. That was better than Chiri-Chiri being sick. And if the creature wanted freedom, Rysn wouldn’t confine her.

At the same time, so much emotion was wrapped up in her experiences with the larkin. Rysn’s slow recovery from her accident, her year of melancholy, her near death at the hands of Voidbringers. Chiri-Chiri had been with her for all that, and—in that brief first moment wondering if she was alone—Rysn found a startling fragility to her feelings. A desire to cling to something she loved and never, never let go.

Was that selfish? A trade or exchange couldn’t be a good one unless both parties gained something from it. Yet not everything was about exchanges and trades. It was sometimes difficult for her to remember that.

“Rebsk?” the captain asked.

“I . . . will wait here to see if she returns, Captain,” Rysn said, trying to remain steady. “Please, bring me word from the shore party as soon as they’ve inspected the beach.”