She nodded. “Is there anything else you want me to do?”

Shallan considered it, tapping her finger against the deck. “Keep your eyes open for spren that look odd,” she said softly. “You remember Sja-anat?”

“Yes,” Ishnah said. Shallan had shared about the Unmade with her and a few others.

“I think I saw a corrupted windspren flying past earlier. I can’t be certain, so keep it to yourself. I don’t want to alarm anyone. But if you’re going to be sitting back here watching the manifesting, maybe keep an eye out? And if you see an odd spren, let me know. All right?”

“I will. Thank you, Brightness. For your trust.”

Shallan squeezed Ishnah’s arm encouragingly, then wandered away. How was that? she asked.

Not bad, Veil said. Your warning will keep her from talking about it to the other Lightweavers—but corrupted spren are also something Mraize is distinctly interested in. So if she reports to him, she is likely to feed him the information. If you can find a way to tell the others you saw a different kind of corrupted spren, we’ll have planted just the right seed.

I don’t think it’s going to work, Radiant said. The idea is a clever one, but I can’t see her reporting on such a minor detail to Mraize.

You’d be surprised, Veil replied. People are always eager to prove how important their mission is, and actively search for interesting things to report. Keep going, Shallan. You’re doing very well.

Feeling bolstered, she went to find Beryl. After the previous conversation, Ishnah now seemed the least likely to be the spy. And, Ishnah had been helpful in identifying Ialai’s method of death. Besides, Mraize would know she had wanted to join the Ghostbloods—and would recognize that she’d draw suspicion.

It was probably one of the other two. And Beryl was the obvious choice. Shallan hadn’t failed to notice the way Stargyle had dropped out of the mission at the last minute, with Beryl joining the team instead—a clear sign. But perhaps too obvious?

Beryl was on Soulcasting duty today. Yesterday they’d stopped by a small strip of land—representing a river in the Physical Realm—and used pickaxes to cut out some chunks of obsidian ground. Shallan had quickly understood why the spren of this realm didn’t use obsidian for anything other than the occasional weapon; the rock was hard to work with, shattering like glass when struck.

While it wouldn’t make a good building material, they’d had success Soulcasting it into food. The stone here was eager to be something else, and could easily be persuaded to change. Today, Beryl knelt beside a stone they’d cut, and was practicing turning it into food.

Shallan lingered nearby, taking in Beryl’s tall Alethi figure, with luscious dark hair and a perfectly tan skin tone. She reminded Veil of Jasnah, only more relaxed.

She uses Lightweaving to enhance her appearance, Veil noted. Probably does it by instinct.

Today, Beryl wore a long skirt rather than a true havah, along with a sleeveless top and a pair of silk gloves that went up to her elbows. She had removed her freehand glove, and now reached out with delicate, supple fingers to caress the chunk of obsidian. She adopted an expression of concentration, and the chunk transformed to lavis grain in the blink of an eye. The clump of lavis held the shape of the obsidian for a moment, then collapsed, spreading out on the cloth underneath.

“Brightness?” Beryl asked, glancing up from her work. She was darkeyed, like many camp followers, though that didn’t really matter anymore. Importantly, she had not yet earned her Blade. “Am I doing something wrong?”

Beryl had learned Lightweaving on her own away from the structure and order of the Radiants. She was an unknown factor, a Surgebinding savant who had come with her own spren already bonded.

Shallan knelt and made a show of picking up a handful of grain and inspecting it. “You’re not doing anything wrong at all. This is good work. Most of us have trouble making individual grains.”

“Oh! It helps to have a seed,” she said, pulling some from her pocket. “Literal seeds, in this case.” She grinned, holding them up. “If you have something to show the obsidian’s soul, you intrigue it enough to want to transform.”

“That’s not how Jasnah does it,” Veil said.

“Yeah, Vathah told me. But my way works better for him too. Queen Jasnah doesn’t know everything, right?” She smiled brightly. “Or maybe it’s different for our order. It’s not her fault if she doesn’t know how Lightweavers work.”

Storms, Veil thought. I always forget how downright sunny Beryl can be.

Shallan folded her arms, thinking back to her own troubles with Soulcasting. Could it be that all along, the problem hadn’t been her, but Jasnah’s training method? They’d assumed two orders using the same power would be analogous. The Skybreakers and the Windrunners seemed to fly the same way, after all.

Then again, the way that Lightweaving worked for Truthwatchers seemed different—even if one disregarded whatever Renarin was. So maybe?

Focus, Veil thought. Try nudging her to be uncomfortable, find out if she’s hiding something.

Shallan opened her mouth to make a comment like she had to Ishnah. Something else entirely came out.

“Are you actually happy?” Shallan asked.

“Brightness?” Beryl asked, still sitting on a box next to some chunks of obsidian. “Happy?”

“There’s a lightness about you,” Shallan said. “Is it real, or are you hiding the pain?”

“I think we all hide pain to an extent,” Beryl said. “But I don’t think I’m in particular agony.”

“And your past?” Shallan asked. “It doesn’t haunt you?”

“I won’t pretend my life was easy. The profession isn’t an easy one, and the women who find their way to it often have their problems magnified. There are ways to keep it from chewing you up, however. To make it your choice, done in your way.” She grimaced. “Or at least ways to tell yourself that…”

Shallan nodded, and heard a humming behind her. Pattern—her Pattern—had wandered over, and was inspecting Beryl’s Soulcasting handiwork.

“By the end,” Beryl continued, “I had a lot of control over the men who came to me. I liked becoming the woman they wanted. It wasn’t until you came searching for me, though, that I realized the truth.” She looked straight at Shallan. “That I could walk away if I wanted to. Nothing was keeping me there. Not any longer. I could have left months earlier. Odd, isn’t it?”

“That’s how it always is,” Veil said.

“Pardon, Brightness, but it’s not. A lot of the women are worse off than me. They couldn’t simply leave; it was the moss for some, threats for others. Some of us though…” She looked at her hand and let the seeds drop into the pile. “We talk about transformation. The Almighty’s greatest blessing to humans: the ability to change. Sometimes we need a seed too, eh?”

Shallan shuffled, looking to the side as Vathah walked by with one of the peakspren sailors. Maybe she should go talk to him, see if he was the spy.

You’re uncomfortable around Beryl, Radiant thought. Is it because she seems to have a greater handle on her life, when you assume she should be worse at it?