Vyre set his block of marble down by the masons’ station, where they were honing them. Then he helped unload a cart that had pulled in from the other quarry, full to the brim.

One stone at a time. Heave, haul, drop. It was excellent work. Difficult, grueling. He was so lost in the effort that when the chull carts were all empty, he dusted his hands off—and was surprised to find himself virtually alone. When had the masons and other workers left? It wasn’t yet midday.

“Where is everyone?” he asked the chull keeper, who was quickly gathering his beasts to take them to their pen.

“Everstorm tonight, Brightlord. We were given a half day off, in celebration.”

“I’m not a brightlord,” Vyre said, checking the sky—though, as he now recalled, the storm wouldn’t arrive for many more hours. But it was likely approaching Urithiru right now. The armies were preparing to attack. Well, he’d been told to stay back from that fight, so he looked at the chull keeper. “How much more stone do you need?”

“Well, um, Bright … er, Lord Silencer? Sir? Um. Yes, we need about double what we have now. There’s a pile at the second quarry, but we have chulls and carts to—”

“We shouldn’t let the chulls have all the fun,” Vyre said, turning and walking along the road toward the city gates.

Before Vyre reached the gates, however, he was taken into a vision. He materialized on a vast field of golden light. Odium was there, a hundred feet tall, seated on a throne. In the guise of a mighty Fused, majestic like a king should be.

Vyre walked closer and knelt. “You can take me without a storm now, Lord?”

OUR CONNECTION GROWS STRONGER, Odium said. I HAVEN’T NEEDED A STORM TO BRING YOU INTO A VISION FOR MONTHS NOW, VYRE. I USUALLY DO IT FOR TRADITION’S SAKE.

That made sense. Vyre waited for further instructions.

I’VE NOTICED YOU WALKING FREELY ABOUT IN STORMS ON PREVIOUS DAYS, VYRE, Odium said, his voice like thunder. YOU HAVE GIVEN ME YOUR WORST EMOTIONS, BUT YOU SHOULD MAINTAIN A SENSE OF SELF-PRESERVATION. FEAR OF MY MAJESTY. WHY ARE YOU NOT WARY OF THE LIGHTNING?

“You won’t strike me down,” Vyre said.

HOW DO YOU KNOW THIS?

“I haven’t finished what I’m supposed to do,” Vyre said. “I still have a truth to prove.”

INTERESTING, Odium said. YOU RESPOND TO MY GIFT IN SUCH AN ODD WAY. YOU ARE BECOMING SOMETHING I HAVE NEVER BEFORE CREATED, VYRE.

“Some people say I’ve become your avatar,” Vyre said. “That you act through me, control me.”

Odium laughed. AS IF I WOULD GIVE SUCH POWER TO A MORTAL. NO, VYRE, YOU ARE UNIQUELY YOURSELF. SO INTERESTING.

“I am unchained.”

AND YET, YOU THINK SO OFTEN OF KALADIN.

“I am … mostly unchained.”

Odium leaned forward, lightning crackling across his carapaced body. I NEED YOU AT URITHIRU. WE CANNOT MAKE THE OATHGATES WORK, AND SO I NEED YOU TO TRANSPORT THE GROUND FORCES. I SUSPECT YOUR SWORD WILL STILL FUNCTION.

“I will go right away,” Vyre said. “But I thought you didn’t want me there.”

I WORRY ABOUT THE EFFECT yOUR FRIEND HAS ON YOU. THE WINDRUNNER.

“You needn’t worry. Those emotions belong to you now.”

INDEED. Odium leaned closer. YOUR FRIEND IS A PROBLEM TO ME—A BIGGER PROBLEM THAN I HAD ASSUMED. I HAVE FORESEEN THAT HE WILL CONTINUE TO BE ONE.

That was not surprising. Kaladin was a problem to many.

HE HAS LEFT THE BATTLE, WHICH I HADN’T THOUGHT HIM CAPABLE OF DOING, Odium said. STRANGELY, THIS WILL MAKE HIM FAR MORE DANGEROUS IN THE FUTURE. UNLESS WE ACT. BUT I CANNOT STRIKE HIM DOWN DIRECTLY. NOT UNLESS HE PUTS HIMSELF INTO MY HANDS.

“Kaladin can’t be killed,” Vyre said. He knew it, sure as he knew the sun was hot, and that it circled Roshar forever.

NOT EVEN BY YOU?

“Especially not by me.”

I DO NOT THINK THAT IS TRUE, VYRE, THOUGH I UNDERSTAND WHY YOU THINK IT SO. I FEEL YOUR PASSIONS, AS THEY ARE MINE. I UNDERSTAND YOU.

Vyre remained kneeling.

I WOULD CLAIM THIS ONE, AS I HAVE CLAIMED YOU, Odium said.

And Vyre would see him dead first. A mercy.

CAN YOU THINK OF A WAY TO HURT HIM? Odium asked. DRIVE HIM TOWARD ME?

“Isolate him. Take away his friends.”

HE WILL SOON BE ALONE.

“Then make him afraid. Make him dread. Break him.”

HOW?

Vyre looked up, across the endless field of golden stone. “How do you bring me here?”

THIS IS NOT A PLACE, BUT A WARPING OF THE REALMS. A VISION.

“Could you show me anything?”

YES.

“Could you show him anything?”

I HAVEN’T THE CONNECTION TO HIM. Odium considered, humming softly to a rhythm. I SEE A WAY. THERE ARE HOLES IN HIS SOUL. SOMEONE COULD GET IN. SOMEONE WHO KNOWS HIM, SOMEONE CONNECTED TO HIM. SOMEONE WHO FEELS AS HE DOES.

“I will do it.”

PERHAPS. YOU COULD INFLUENCE HIM IN SMALL WAYS ONLY. PERHAPS EACH NIGHT, WHEN HE SLUMBERS … HE THINKS OF YOU STILL, AND THERE IS MORE. A CONNECTION BECAUSE OF YOUR PAST, YOUR SHARED DREAMS. ANY BOND SUCH AS THAT CAN BE MANIPULATED.

WILL THIS BE ENOUGH? IF WE SHOW HIM VISIONS, WILL THAT BREAK HIM?

“It will be a start. I can bring him to the brink. Get him to step up to the ledge.”

THEN WHAT?

“Then we find a way to make him jump,” Moash said softly.

As Lift hung from the ceiling—dangling precariously from a rope with one hand, reaching out with the other toward the basket—she was forced to acknowledge that stealing food just didn’t give her the same thrill it once had.

She continued to pretend because she didn’t want her life to change. She hated change. Stealing people’s food was basically her thing. She’d been doing it for years, and she did get a thrill when she saw their starvin’ faces. They’d turn away, then when they looked back, their chouta wrap would be gone. Or they’d lift the cover on their meal, and find the plate empty. After that came the most sublime moment of cross-eyed panic and confusion.

But then they’d smile and look to see where she was. They didn’t see her, of course. She was way too good at hidin’. But they’d look, and they seemed fond.

You weren’t supposed to be fond when someone stole from you. Ruined the entire experience.

Then there was this. She stretched a little farther, fingers brushing the basket.…

There. She snatched the handle.

She stuffed the handle between her teeth, scuttled up the rope, then vanished into the hidden labyrinth of small tunnels that latticed the ceilings and walls of Urithiru. Up here Wyndle waited, coiled up on himself and making a face out of vines and crystal.

“Oh!” he said. “A full basket! Let’s see what he left you this time!”

“Ain’t nobody leaving me nothin’,” Lift snapped. “I stole it, unfair and square. Also hush. Someone might hear.”

“They can’t hear me, mistress. I am—”

“I can hear you. So hush, whineyspren.” She crept down the tunnel. There was an Everstorm going on right now, and she wanted to be safe at her nest. The things felt creepy in ways that the other Radiants didn’t seem to notice. And even though everything seemed normal in the tower, she couldn’t help noticing the strange sensation that everything was wrong.