Words of Radiance (Stormlight Archive, The)

by Sanderson, Brandon

  It seemed to Rysn that gender was part of the definition, but it wasn’t worth arguing over. “My master is indisposed,” she said, addressing the newcomer—he’d be the island’s trademaster. “I am authorized to speak for him, and to accomplish the trade.”

  The newcomer snorted, sitting down on the edge of the shelf, legs hanging out over the edge. Rysn’s stomach did a somersault. “He should have known better. The trade is off, then.”

  “You are Talik, I assume?” Rysn said, folding her arms. The man was no longer facing her. It seemed an intentional slight.

  “Yes.”

  “My master warned me about you.”

  “Then he isn’t a complete fool,” Talik said. “Just mostly.”

  His pronunciation was astonishing. She found herself checking him for Thaylen eyebrows, but he was obviously Reshi.

  Rysn clenched her teeth, then forced herself to sit down beside him on the edge. She tried to do it as nonchalantly as he had, but she just couldn’t. Instead, she settled down—not easy in a fashionable skirt—and scooted out beside him.

  Oh, Passions! I’m going to fall off of this and die. Don’t look down! Do not look down!

  She couldn’t help it. She glanced downward, and felt immediately woozy. She could see the side of the head down there, the massive line of a jaw. Nearby, standing on a ridge above the eye to Rysn’s right, people pushed large bundles of fruit off the side. Tied with vine rope, the bundles swung down beside the maw below.

  Mandibles moved slowly, pulling the fruit in, jerking the ropes. The Reshi pulled those back up to affix more fruit, all under the eyes of the king, who was supervising the feeding from the very tip of the nose to Rysn’s left.

  “A treat,” Talik said, noticing where she watched. “An offering. These small bundles of fruit, of course, do not sustain our god.”

  “What does?”

  He smiled. “Why are you still here, young one? Did I not dismiss you?”

  “The trade does not have to be off,” Rysn said. “My master told me the terms were already set. We have brought everything you require in payment.” Though for what, I don’t know. “Turning me aside would be pointless.”

  The king, she noticed, had stepped closer to listen.

  “It would serve the same purpose as everything in life,” Talik said. “To please Relu-na.”

  That would be the name of their god, the greatshell. “And your island would approve of such waste? Inviting traders all this way, only to send them off empty-handed?”

  “Relu-na approves of boldness,” Talik said. “And, more importantly, respect. If we do not respect the one with whom we trade, then we should not do it.”

  What ridiculous logic. If a merchant followed that line of reasoning, he’d never be able to trade. Except . . . in her months with Vstim, it seemed that he’d often sought out people who liked trading with him. People he respected. Those kinds of people certainly would be less likely to cheat you.

  Perhaps it wasn’t bad logic . . . simply incomplete.

  Think like the other trader, she recalled. One of Vstim’s lessons—which were so different from the ones she’d learned at home. What do they want? Why do they want it? Why are you the best one to provide it?

  “It must be hard to live out here, in the waters,” Rysn said. “Your god is impressive, but you cannot make everything you need for yourselves.”

  “Our ancestors did it just fine.”

  “Without medicines,” Rysn said, “that could have saved lives. Without cloth from fibers that grow only on the mainland. Your ancestors survived without these things because they had to. You do not.”

  The trademaster hunched forward.

  Don’t do that! You’ll fall!

  “We are not idiots,” Talik said.

  Rysn frowned. Why—

  “I’m so tired of explaining this,” the man continued. “We live simply. That does not make us stupid. For years the outsiders came, trying to exploit us because of our ignorance. We are tired of it, woman. Everything you say is true. Not true—obvious. Yet you say it as if we’d never stopped to consider. ‘Oh! Medicine! Of course we need medicine! Thank you for pointing that out. I was just going to sit here and die.’”

  Rysn blushed. “I didn’t—”

  “Yes, you did mean that,” Talik said. “The condescension dripped from your lips, young lady. We’re tired of being taken advantage of. We’re tired of foreigners who try to trade us trash for riches. We don’t have knowledge of the current economic situation on the mainland, so we can’t know for certain if we are being cheated or not. Therefore, we trade only with people we know and trust. That is that.”

  Current economic situation on the mainland . . . ? Rysn thought. “You’ve trained in Thaylenah,” she guessed.

  “Of course I have,” Talik said. “You have to know a predator’s tricks before you can catch him.” He settled back, which let her relax a little. “My parents sent me to train as a child. I had one of your babsks. I made trademaster on my own before returning here.”

  “Your parents being the king and queen?” Rysn guessed again.

  He eyed her. “The king and king’s consort.”

  “You could just call her a queen.”

  “This trade is not happening,” Talik said, standing. “Go and tell your master we are sorry for his illness and hope that he recovers. If he does, he may return next year during the trading season and we will meet with him.”

  “You imply you respect him,” Rysn said, scrambling to her feet—and away from that drop. “So just trade with him!”

  “He is sickly,” Talik said, not looking at her. “It would not do him justice. We’d be taking advantage of him.”

  Taking advantage of . . . Passions, these people were strange. It seemed even odder to hear such things coming from the mouth of a man who spoke such perfect Thaylen.

  “You’d trade with me if you respected me,” Rysn said. “If you thought I was worthy of it.”

  “That will take years,” Talik said, joining his mother at the front of the shelf. “Go away, and—”

  He cut off as the king spoke to him softly in Reshi.

  Talik drew his lips into a line.

  “What?” Rysn asked, stepping forward.

  Talik turned toward her. “You have apparently impressed the king. You argue fiercely. Though you dismiss us as primitives, you’re not as bad as some.” He ground his teeth for a moment. “The king will hear your argument for a trade.”

  Rysn blinked, looked from one to the other. Hadn’t she just made her argument for a trade, with the king listening?

  The woman regarded Rysn with dark eyes and a calm expression. I’ve won the first fight, Rysn realized, like the warriors on the battlefield. I’ve dueled and been judged worthy to spar with the one of greater authority.

  The king spoke, and Talik interpreted. “The king says that you are talented, but that the trade cannot—of course—continue. You should return with your babsk when he comes again. In a decade or so, perhaps we will trade with you.”

  Rysn searched for an argument. “And is that how Vstim gained respect, Your Majesty?” She would not fail in this. She couldn’t! “Over years, with his own babsk?”

  “Yes,” Talik said.

  “You didn’t interpret that,” Rysn said.

  “I . . .” Talik sighed, then interpreted her question.

  The king smiled with apparent fondness. She spoke a few words in their language, and Talik turned to his mother, looking shocked. “I . . . Wow.”

  “What?” Rysn demanded.

  “Your babsk slew a coracot with some of our hunters,” Talik said. “On his own? A foreigner? I had not heard of such a thing.”

  Vstim. Slaying something? With hunters? Impossible.

  Though he obviously hadn’t always been the wizened old ledgerworm that he was now, she’d imagined he’d been a wizened young ledgerworm in the past.

  The king spoke again.

  “I doubt you’ll
be slaying any beasts, child,” Talik interpreted. “Go. Your babsk will recover from this. He is wise.”

  No. He is dying, Rysn thought. It came to her mind unbidden, but the truth of it terrified her. More than the height, more than anything else she’d known. Vstim was dying. This might be his final trade.

  And she was ruining it.

  “My babsk trusts me,” Rysn said, stepping closer to the king, moving along the greatshell’s nose. “And you said you trust him. Can you not trust his judgment that I am worthy?”

  “One cannot substitute for personal experience,” Talik translated.

  The beast stepped, ground trembling, and Rysn clenched her teeth, imagining them all toppling off. Fortunately, up this high, the motion was more like a gentle sway. Trees rustled, and her stomach lurched, but it wasn’t any more dangerous than a ship surging on a wave.

  Rysn stepped closer to where the king stood beside the beast’s nose. “You are king—you know the importance of trusting those beneath you. You cannot be everywhere, know everything. At times, you must accept the judgment of those you know. My babsk is such a man.”

  “You make a valid point,” Talik translated, sounding surprised. “But what you do not realize is that I have already paid your babsk this respect. That is why I agreed to speak with you myself. I would not have done this for another.”

  “But—”

  “Return below,” the king said through Talik, her voice growing harder. She seemed to think this was the end. “Tell your babsk that you proceeded far enough to speak with me personally. Doubtless, this is more than he expected. You may leave the island, and return when he is well.”

  “I . . .” Rysn felt as if a fist were crushing her throat, making it hard for her to speak. She couldn’t fail him, not now.

  “Give him my best wishes for his recovery,” the king said, turning away.

  Talik smiled in what seemed to be satisfaction. Rysn glanced at her two guards, who bore grim expressions.

  Rysn stepped away. She felt numb. Turned away, like a child demanding sweets. She felt a furious blush consume her as she walked past the men and women preparing more bundles of fruit.

  Rysn stopped. She looked to her left, out at the endless expanse of blue. She turned back toward the king. “I believe,” Rysn said loudly, “that I need to speak with someone with more authority.”

  Talik turned toward her. “You have spoken to the king. There is nobody with more authority.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Rysn said. “But I do think there is.”

  One of the ropes shook from having its fruit gift consumed. This is stupid, this is stupid, this is—

  Don’t think.

  Rysn scrambled to the rope, causing her guards to cry out. She grabbed the length of rope and let herself over the side, climbing down beside the greatshell’s head. The god’s head.

  Passions! This was hard in a skirt. The rope bit into the skin of her arms, and it vibrated as the creature below crunched on the fruit upon its end.

  Talik’s head appeared above. “What in Kelek’s name are you doing, idiot woman?” he screamed. She found it amusing that he’d learned their curses while studying with them.

  Rysn clung to the rope, heart rushing in a mad panic. What was she doing? “Relu-na,” she yelled back at Talik, “approves of boldness!”

  “There is a difference between boldness and stupidity!”

  Rysn continued to climb down. It was more of a slide. Oh, Craving, Passion of need . . .

  “Pull her back up!” Talik ordered. “You soldiers, help.” He gave further orders in Reshi.

  Rysn looked up as workers grabbed the rope to haul her back upward. A new face appeared above, however, looking down. The king. She raised a hand, halting them as she studied Rysn.

  Rysn continued on down. She didn’t go terribly far, maybe fifty feet or so. Not even down to the creature’s eye. She stopped herself, with effort, her fingers burning. “O great Relu-na,” Rysn said loudly, “your people refuse to trade with me, and so I come to you to beg. Your people need what I have brought, but I need a trade even more. I cannot afford to return.”

  The creature, of course, did not reply. Rysn hung in place beside its shell, which was crusted with lichen and small rockbuds.

  “Please,” Rysn said. “Please.”

  What am I expecting to happen? Rysn wondered. She didn’t expect the thing to make any sort of reply. But maybe she could persuade those above that she was bold enough to be worthy. It couldn’t hurt, at least.

  The rope quivered in her hands, and she made the mistake of glancing down.

  Actually, what she was doing could hurt. Very much.

  “The king,” Talik said above, “has commanded that you return.”

  “Will our negotiation continue?” Rysn asked, glancing up. The king actually looked concerned.

  “That’s not important,” Talik said. “You have been issued a command.”

  Rysn gritted her teeth, clinging to the rope, looking at the plates of chitin before her. “And what do you think?” she asked softly.

  Down below, the thing bit down, and the rope suddenly became very tight, slapping Rysn against the side of the enormous head. Above, workers shouted. The king yelled at them in a sudden, sharp voice.

  Oh no . . .

  The rope pulled even tighter.

  Then snapped.

  The shouts grew frantic above, though Rysn barely noticed them as panic struck. She did not fall gracefully, but as a flurry of screaming cloth and legs, her skirt flapping, her stomach lurching. What had she done? She—

  She saw an eye. The god’s eye. Only a glimpse as she passed; it was as large as a house, glassy and black, and it reflected her falling form.

  She seemed to hang before it for a fraction of a second, and her scream died in her throat.

  It was gone in a moment. Then rushing wind, another scream, and a crash into water hard as stone.

  Blackness.

  * * *

  Rysn found herself floating when she awoke. She didn’t open her eyes, but she could sense that she was floating. Drifting, bobbing up and down . . .

  “She is an idiot.” She knew that voice. Talik, the one she’d been trading with.

  “Then she fits well with me,” Vstim said. He coughed. “I have to say, old friend, you were supposed to help train her, not drop her off a cliff.”

  Floating . . . Drifting . . .

  Wait.

  Rysn forced her eyes open. She was in a bed inside a hut. It was hot. Her vision swam, and she drifted . . . drifted because her mind was cloudy. What had they given her? She tried to sit up. Her legs wouldn’t move. Her legs wouldn’t move.

  She gasped, then began breathing quickly.

  Vstim’s face appeared above her, followed by a concerned Reshi woman with ribbons in her hair. Not the queen . . . king . . . whatever. This woman spoke quickly in the barking language of the Reshi.

  “Calm now,” Vstim said to Rysn, kneeling beside her. “Calm . . . They’ll get you something to drink, child.”

  “I lived,” Rysn said. Her voice rasped as she spoke.

  “Barely,” Vstim said, though with fondness. “The spren cushioned your fall. From that height . . . Child, what were you thinking, climbing over the side like that?”

  “I needed to do something,” Rysn said. “To prove courage. I thought . . . I needed to be bold . . .”

  “Oh, child. This is my fault.”

  “You were his babsk,” Rysn said. “Talik, their trader. You set this up with him, so I could have a chance to trade on my own, but in a controlled setting. The trade was never in danger, and you are not as sick as you appear.” The words boiled out, tumbling over one another like a hundred men trying to leave through the same doorway at once.

  “When did you figure that out?” Vstim asked, then coughed.

  “I . . .” She didn’t know. It just all kind of fell together for her. “Right now.”

  “Well, you must know that I f
eel a true fool,” Vstim said. “I thought this would be a perfect chance for you. A practice with real stakes. And then . . . Then you went and fell off the island’s head!”

  Rysn squeezed her eyes shut as the Reshi woman arrived with a cup of something. “Will I walk again?” Rysn asked softly.

  “Here, drink this,” Vstim said.

  “Will I walk again?” She didn’t take the cup, and kept her eyes closed.

  “I don’t know,” Vstim said. “But you will trade again. Passions! Daring to go above the king’s authority? Being saved by the island’s soul itself?” He chuckled. It sounded forced. “The other islands will be clamoring to trade with us.”

  “Then I accomplished something,” she said, feeling a complete and utter idiot.

  “Oh, you accomplished something indeed,” Vstim said.

  She felt a prickling pressure on her arm and opened her eyes with a snap. Something crawled there, about as big as the palm of her hand—a creature that looked like a cremling, but with wings that folded along the back.

  “What is it?” Rysn demanded.

  “Why we came here,” Vstim said. “The thing we trade for, a treasure that very few know still exists. They were supposed to have died with Aimia, you see. I came here with all of these goods in tow because Talik sent to me to say they had the corpse of one to trade. Kings pay fortunes for them.”

  He leaned down. “I have never seen one alive before. I was given the corpse I wanted in trade. This one has been given to you.”

  “By the Reshi?” Rysn asked, mind still clouded. She didn’t know what to make of any of this.

  “The Reshi could not command one of the larkin,” Vstim said, standing. “This was given you by the island itself. Now drink your medicine and sleep. You shattered both of your legs. We will be staying on this island for a long while as you recover, and as I seek forgiveness for being a foolish, foolish man.”

  She accepted the drink. As she drank, the small creature flew up toward the rafters of the hut and perched there, looking down at her with eyes of solid silver.

  “So what kind of spren is it?” Thude asked to the slow Rhythm of Curiosity. He held up the gemstone, peering in at the smoky creature moving about inside.