Eshonai looked away from Thude and stared out across the Plains—not toward the humans, but toward the ocean, the Origin. Places she could have gone. Places she’d planned to go. Thude knew her too well. He understood how much it hurt to be trapped here.

They will strike inward, she thought. The humans won’t come all this way to turn around because of a few chasms. They have resources we can only imagine, and there are so many of them. They’ll find a way to get to us.

Escaping out the other side of the Plains wasn’t an option either. If the chasmfiends there didn’t get them, the humans eventually would. To flee would be to abandon the natural fortification of the Plains.

“I’ll do what I have to, Thude,” Eshonai said to Determination. “I’ll do what is right whatever the cost. To us. To me.”

“They have fought wars,” Thude said. “They have generals. Great military thinkers. We’ve had warform for only a year.”

“We’ll learn,” Eshonai said, “and create our own generals. Our ancestors paid with their very minds to bring us freedom. If the humans find a way to come for us in here, we will fight. Until we persuade the humans that the cost is too high. Until they realize we won’t go meekly to slavery, like the poor beings they use as servants. Until they learn they cannot have us, our Blades, or our souls. We are a free people. Forever.”

* * *

Venli gathered her friends around, humming softly to Craving as she revealed the gemstones in her hands. Voidspren. Five of them, trapped as Ulim had been when first brought to her.

Inside her gemheart, he hummed words of encouragement. Ever since the events at the human city, he’d treated her with far more respect. And he’d never again abandoned her. The longer he remained, the better she could hear the new rhythms. The rhythms of power.

She had claimed this section of Narak—the city at the center of the Plains—for her scholars. Friends who she and Ulim had determined, after careful discussion, shared her hunger for a better world. Trustworthy enough, she hoped. Once they had Voidspren in their gemhearts, she’d be far more confident in their discretion.

“What are they?” Demid asked, his hand resting on Venli’s shoulder. He’d been the first and most eager to listen. He didn’t know everything, naturally, but she was glad to have him. She felt stronger when he was around. Braver than Eshonai. After all, could Eshonai have ever taken this step?

“These hold spren,” Venli explained. “When you accept one into your gemheart, they’ll hold your current spren with them, keeping you in your current form—but you’ll have a secret companion to help you. Guide you. Together, we’re going to solve the greatest challenge our people have ever known.”

“Which is?” Tusa asked to Skepticism.

“Our world is connected to another,” Venli explained, handing one gemstone to each of her friends. “A place called Shadesmar. Hundreds of spren exist there who can grant us the ability to harness the power of the storms. They’ve traveled a long way, as part of a great storm. They’ve gone as far as they can on their own, however. Getting gemstones like these to our side takes enormous effort, and is impossible on a large scale.

“So we need another way to bring those spren across. We’re going to figure it out, then we’re going to persuade the rest of the listeners to join with us in adopting forms of power. We’ll be smart; we won’t be ruled by the spren this time around. We’ll rule them.

“Eshonai and the others have foolishly thrown everyone into an unwanted war. So we have to take this step. We will be remembered as the ones who saved our people.”

Oh … Father … Seven thousand years.

“How could you not tell me this?” Radiant demanded as she knelt and shouted at the cube on the floor. “Restares is not only the honorspren’s High Judge, he’s one of the storming Heralds!”

“You didn’t require the information at that time,” Mraize’s voice said. “Be Veil. She will understand.”

“Veil is even more angry at you, Mraize,” Radiant said, standing up. “You sent us into a dangerous situation without proper preparation! Withholding this information wasted weeks while the three of us searched the fortress like an idiot.”

“We didn’t want you asking after a Herald,” Mraize said, his voice frustratingly calm. “That might have alerted him. So far as we’re aware, he hasn’t figured out that we know his true identity. Gavilar may have known, but no others in the Sons of Honor had an inkling that they served one of the very beings they were seeking—in their naive ignorance—to restore to Roshar. The irony is quite poetic.”

“Mmm…” Pattern said from beside the door, where he was watching for Adolin.

“What?” Radiant asked him. “You like irony now too?”

“Irony tastes good. Like sausage.”

“And have you ever tasted sausage?”

“I don’t believe I have a sense of taste,” Pattern said. “So irony tastes like what I imagine sausage would taste like when I’m imagining tastes.”

Radiant rubbed her forehead, looking back at the cube. So unfair. She was accustomed to being able to stare down her troops, but one could not properly glare at a man who talked to you out of a box.

“You told us we’d know what to do when we found Restares,” Radiant told Mraize. “Well, we are here now and we have no idea how to proceed.”

“What did you do the moment you found out?” Mraize said.

“Cursed your name.”

“Then?”

“Contacted you directly to curse at you some more.”

“Which was the correct choice. See, you knew exactly what to do.”

Radiant folded her arms, warm with anger. Frustration. And … admittedly … embarrassment. She bled into being Veil, and the anger returned.

“The time has come,” she said, “for us to deal, Mraize.”

“Deal? The deal has already been set. You do as I have requested, and you will receive the offered reward—in addition to the practice and training you are receiving under my hand.”

“That is interesting,” Veil said. “Because I see this differently. I have come all this way, through great hardship. Because of Adolin’s sacrifice, I’ve gained access to one of the most remote fortresses on Roshar. I have succeeded where you explicitly told me your other agents have failed.

“Now that I’m here, instead of receiving ‘training’ or ‘practice’ as you say, I find that you’ve been withholding vital information from me. From my perspective, there is no incentive to continue this arrangement, as the promised reward is of little interest to me. Even Shallan is questioning its value.

“Your refusal to give me important information makes me question what else you held back. Now I’m questioning if what I’m to do here is possibly against my interests, and the interests of those I love. So let me ask plainly. Why am I really here? Why are you so interested in Kelek? And why—explicitly—should I continue on this path?”

Mraize did not respond immediately. “Hello, Veil,” he finally said. “I’m glad you came out to speak with me.”