“Um, yes, sir,” Sigzil said. He floated off, poking at the bloody hole in his jacket.

Leshwi glanced to the side. A short distance away—hanging in the air with no weapon—was the Heavenly One that Kaladin had defeated earlier.

Leshwi shouldn’t care that Kaladin had spared the creature. It had been a foolish gesture toward a being who could be reborn with each new storm. Then again, Leshwi probably knew that if Sigzil were killed, a new Radiant could be raised up using his spren. It wasn’t exactly the same— in fact, in terms of Kaladin’s relief, there was a huge difference.

At any rate, as Leshwi raised her spear to him, he was glad to accept the challenge.

* * *

In the middle deck of the Fourth Bridge, Navani counted off another family and pointed them toward a clearly marked and numbered section of the hold. The ardents there were quick to provide comfort to the worried family. Wide-eyed children clutching blankets settled in, several of them sniffling. Parents arranged sacks with the clothing and other possessions they’d hastily packed.

“Some few are refusing to leave,” Ardent Falilar said quietly to Navani. He fretted at his pure white beard as he looked over the list of names. “They’d rather continue living in oppression than abandon their homeland.”

“How many?” she asked.

“Not many. Fifteen people. Otherwise the evacuation is going faster than I’d estimated. The refugees, obviously, were already prepared to move—and most of the normal townspeople had already been forced into close quarters with their neighbors to give parshmen their dwellings.”

“Then what are you so worried about?” Navani asked, making a notation on her list. Nearby, Renarin had stepped up to the family with the sniffling children. He summoned a small globe of light, then began bouncing it between his hands. Such a simple thing, but the children who saw it grew wide-eyed, forgetting their fear.

The ball of light was bright blue. Part of Navani felt it should be red—to reveal the true nature of the spren that hid inside Renarin. A Voidspren. Or at least an ordinary spren corrupted to the enemy’s side. None of them knew what to do about that fact, least of all Renarin. As with most Radiants, he hadn’t known what he was doing when he began. Now that he’d formed the bond, it was too late to turn back.

Renarin claimed the spren was trustworthy, but something was odd about his powers. They had managed to recruit several standard Truthwatchers—and they could create illusions like Shallan. Renarin couldn’t do that. He could only summon lights, and they did strange, unnatural things sometimes.…

“So many things could still go wrong!” Falilar said, drawing Navani’s attention back to the moment. “What if we underestimated the weight this many people will add? What if the strain cracks gemstones faster than we’d planned? The fans barely worked at all. It’s not a disaster, Brightness, but there’s so much to worry about.”

He tugged at his beard again. It was a wonder he had any hairs left at this point.

Navani patted his arm fondly—if Falilar didn’t have something to worry about, he’d go mad. “Do a visual inspection of the gemstones. Then double-check your calculations.”

“Triple-check, you mean?” he said. “Yes, I suppose. Keep myself busy. Stop worrying.” He reached for his beard, then pointedly shoved his hand in the pocket of his ardent robes.

Navani passed her checklist to another ardent, then climbed the steps to the top deck. Dalinar said he’d reopen the perpendicularity soon, and she wanted to be there—her pencil poised—when he did.

Down below, the townspeople kept clustering and looking up at the strange battle overhead. All this gawking was really going to throw off the orderly boarding plan she’d commissioned. Next time she’d have the ardents draw up a second plan that indicated how long it might take if a battle were occurring.

Well, at least only the Heavenly Ones were here. They tended to ignore civilians, considering them little more than battlefield obstacles. Other groups of Fused were far more … brutal.

The command station was mostly empty now, all of her ardents having been recruited to comfort and guide the boarding townspeople. Only Rushu remained, absently watching the flying Windrunners with her notebook open.

Bother. The pretty young ardent was supposed to be cataloguing the town’s food supplies. Rushu was brilliant, but like a sphere, she tended to shine in all directions unless carefully focused.

“Brightness,” Rushu said as Navani walked up. “Did you see that? The Fused over there—the one now fighting Highmarshal Kaladin—she let one of the Windrunners go after stabbing him.”

“I’m sure she was merely distracted by Kaladin’s arrival,” Navani said, glancing toward Dalinar, who stood directly ahead.

The large Horneater bridgeman had taken a position near Dalinar and was looking over some sacks of supplies that Rushu had apparently forgotten about. Navani didn’t miss that his daughter—the Shardbearer—was standing very close as well. Kaladin had been promoted beyond being a simple bodyguard, but he did tend to keep an eye out for Dalinar regardless. Almighty bless him for it.

“Brightness,” Rushu said, “I swear there is something odd about this battle. Too many of the Windrunners are idling about, not fighting.”

“Reserves, Rushu,” Navani said. “Come, let my husband worry about tactics. We have another duty.”

Rushu sighed, but did as asked, tucking her notebook under her arm and accompanying Navani. Dalinar stood with his hands clasped behind his back, watching the fighting. As Navani had hoped, he relaxed his posture, then brought his hands to the sides—as if gripping some unseen fabric.

He pulled his hands together, and the perpendicularity opened as a burst of light. Gloryspren, like golden spheres, began to spiral around him. Navani got a better glimpse of Shadesmar this time. And again she heard that tone. That was new, wasn’t it? Though she didn’t consider herself talented at drawing—at least not compared to a master like Shallan—she sketched what she saw, trying to capture an image of that place with the strange sun over a sea of beads. She could visit it in person if she wished, using the Oathgates—but something felt different about these visions.

“What did you see?” she asked Rushu.

“I didn’t see anything, Brightness,” Rushu said. “But … I felt something. Like a pulse, a powerful thump. For a moment I felt as if I were falling into eternity.…”

“Write that down,” Navani said. “Capture it.”

“Very well,” Rushu said, opening her notebook again. She glanced up as Kaladin skimmed the deck overhead, dangerously close, following one of the Fused.

“Focus, Rushu,” Navani said.

“If you wish depictions or descriptions of Shadesmar,” Rushu said, “Queen Jasnah has released journals of her travels there.”

“I’m well aware,” Navani said, still drawing. “And I’ve read the journals.” The ones Jasnah would give her, anyway. Storming woman.

“Then why do you need my depiction of it?” Rushu asked.

“We’re looking for something else,” Navani said, glancing at Dalinar—then shielding her watering eyes. She blinked, then waved for Rushu to follow her to withdraw back to the nearby command post. “There’s someplace beyond Shadesmar, a place where Dalinar gets this power. Once long ago, the tower was maintained by a Bondsmith like my husband—and from what the spren have said, I conclude that the tower got its power from that place beyond Shadesmar as well.”