He needed to wait for the perfect moment. Fortunately, several spanreeds started blinking at once—and they must have been important ones, for the two femalens quickly turned to these and stopped working on the soldier’s report. Kaladin Lashed his rope to one of his brushes, then infused the flat of the brush with a Reverse Lashing—commanding it to attract certain objects only. In this instance, that leather case.

The femalens were so preoccupied that Kaladin felt his chance had come. He lowered the brush on the rope toward the table. As the brush drew near, the leather case moved of its own volition, pulled over so it stuck to the brush.

Heart thumping, certain he was about to be caught, Kaladin drew it up, the case sticking to the end, the spanreeds inside clinking softly. Nobody noticed, and he pulled it into the shaft.

Inside the case, he found an entire group of spanreeds—at least twenty. Perhaps they’d just been delivered, as they were still wrapped in pairs, with twine around them. Judging by the way the rubies glowed with Voidlight, he was hopeful that they would work in the tower.

He tucked the large pouch away in his sack. He then spared a thought for all the important information that was likely being relayed through this room. Could he steal some of it?

No. He’d already risked enough today. He sent a quick thought to Syl, who came zipping up to him as he wiggled backward through the ventilation shaft. She flitted on ahead of him, then called from behind, “Hallway is empty.”

He eased out of the hole, catching the edge with his fingers and hanging a moment before quietly dropping the last few feet to the floor of the corridor. He peeked back out toward the guard post.

“Now what?” Syl said. “Want me to imitate a Voidspren again?”

He nodded. Part of him wanted to try another path, as he worried that these soldiers might grow suspicious at the same ruse. But he also knew they’d fallen for it once, and he knew a direct way to the perimeter using this path. Safer this way.

As Syl was getting ready, however, Kaladin spotted something farther down this hallway, away from the guards. A flashing light. He held up his hand to stop Syl, then pointed.

“What is that?” she said, zipping off toward the light. He followed more cautiously, stepping up to a blinking garnet light. Frowning, Kaladin pressed his hand against it.

“Brightness Navani?” he asked.

No, a voice said. It had a middling pitch, not necessarily male or female. I need you, Radiant. Please. They’ve found me.

“You?”

One of the nodes! That protect me. Please. Please, you have to defend it. Please.

“How do you know? Have you told Brightness Navani?”

Please.

“Where?” he said.

Second level, near the central atrium. I will lead you. They realized that one of the nodes would be open to the air, to be renewed by Stormlight. They’ve sent for her. The Lady of Pains. She’ll take my mind. Please, Radiant. Protect me.

Syl hovered beside him. “What?” she asked.

He lowered his hand. He was so tired.

But today, he couldn’t afford to be tired. He had to be Kaladin Stormblessed. Kaladin Stormblessed fought anyway.

“We’re going to need to find me a better weapon,” he said. “Quickly.”

This point regarding the Rhythm of War’s emotional influence will be of particular interest to El.

—From Rhythm of War, page 10

Kaladin knew there was a chance he was making a huge mistake. He didn’t understand the nature of the tower or what was going on with it and Navani. He was risking a great deal by revealing himself.

However, that garnet light had rescued him from the Pursuer’s clutches. And right now, he’d heard something in the spren’s voice. A genuine fright. Terror, combined with a plea for protection, was not something Kaladin could ignore.

He was fatigued mentally and physically. As he ran, he drew a field of exhaustionspren, like jets of dust. Worse, a part of him panicked these days every time he went to pick up a weapon. He’d trained himself these last months to function despite those things. He leaned on the spike of energy that coursed through him, even before he drew in Stormlight. He let that control him, instead of the fatigue.

It would catch up to him eventually. But for now, he could pretend to be strong. Pretend to be a soldier again.

The four guards were facing in the other direction, so Kaladin—running at full speed—nearly reached them before the first guard spun around. Kaladin took the chance to burst alight with power, earning him another fraction of a second as the guard panicked, his eyes going wide with fright.

He shouted as Kaladin drew close, hands out before him, waiting for the thrust of the spear. A lot of men were afraid of something sharp coming at them, but as long as his Stormlight held, Kaladin’s only real danger was getting outnumbered and overwhelmed.

Kaladin caught the spear as the singer thrust it. He then yanked, throwing the enemy off balance. He’d been taught that maneuver by Hav, who said it was necessary to learn, but almost impossible to execute. Kaladin added his own twist by infusing the shaft with a Full Lashing, making it stick to the guard’s hands. Then he shoved the weapon to the side, sticking it to a second guard’s spear as he spun.

Kaladin grabbed that spear, infusing it as well, then left both guards stuck to their weapons. As they shouted in surprise, Kaladin held the shafts of the crossed spears—one in each hand—and shoved them upward so the tips struck the ceiling. Then he smoothly ducked through the peaked opening, leaving the two men crying out and struggling as they tried unsuccessfully to free their weapons and hands.

Kaladin slammed his shoulder into the third guard, infusing the singer’s coat with a slap to the back. He shoved this guard into the fourth. They fell in a lump, entangled and stuck together. Kaladin danced on his toes, awaiting the next attack. It didn’t come. The singers stayed where he’d put them, shouting and railing as they struggled to move.

He kicked a spear up and seized it out of the air. Hello, old friend. I keep finding my way back to you, don’t I? Perhaps it wasn’t Teft’s addiction he needed to worry about. There was always an excuse for why Kaladin needed the spear again, wasn’t there?

This was what he’d been afraid of. This was what made him tremble. The worry that he would never be able to put it down.

He tucked the spear under his arm and took off through the tunnel. A twinkling garnet light appeared on the floor in front of him, moving along one of the strata, leading the way toward a stairwell ahead.

“No,” Kaladin said, hoping the tower’s spren could hear him. “There will be a guard post at the bottom. I can already hear them responding to those shouts. To reach the second floor, we go out a perimeter balcony, down the outside, and then head inward. That will lose any tails we pick up.”

The spren seemed to have heard, for they sent a light moving along the wall next to him—opposite Syl’s blue-white ribbon on his other side. They reached the balcony in a few short minutes, a fraction of the time it had taken to sneak inward. They were at the rim of the tower, but the central atrium was far at the eastern side. All the way inward. He’d have to cross the entire second floor to reach it.

He heard shouts behind him, so he’d been right about picking up tails. He stuck his spear to his back by infusing part of it and slapping it against his shirt, then he unwound the rope around his waist. A quick infusion on the end let him stick it to the railing as he stepped up in a fluid motion and leaped off, sticking the other end to his shirt in case he slipped, then holding tight.