“Queen Fen says you have inspected the ship in person?” Navani said.

“Yes, Brightness,” Rysn said. “I visited it yesterday, after I decided to agree to your request. It was brought into port weeks ago, and has been undergoing repairs. I toured it to see if I could notice anything odd.”

Navani’s eyes flicked toward the wheeled chair.

“I was carried, Brightness,” Rysn said. “With my porters, I assure you I am quite mobile.”

“You know,” Navani said, “we have Radiants who specialize in something called Regrowth. . . .”

“My injury turned out to be too old for healing, Brightness,” Rysn said, her stomach twisting at the words. “I tried to avail myself of their abilities the moment I learned of them.”

“Of course,” Navani said. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize for offering me aid, Brightness,” Rysn said. In fact, I’m glad you noticed. Because there’s something else you might do for me. But the time for negotiation had not yet arrived.

Rysn had a need. Several of them. Best to find out what Navani needed, and why, before they began the dance. “If we may return to the topic at hand, Your Majesty . . .”

“Yes,” Navani said. “This ship. So curious. Did you find anything interesting in your inspection?”

“Whoever set the ship adrift tried to scuttle it,” Rysn said. “But they weren’t aware that modern Thaylen ships aren’t so easily sunk by a hole or two in the hull. It’s obvious foul play, Brightness. The logbooks were taken.”

“Blood on the deck?” Navani asked.

“None we could find, Brightness.”

“And . . . the missing Soulcaster?” Navani asked.

Rysn had only just been told this particular piece of intelligence: the ghost ship, First Dreams, had carried a rogue Soulcaster as a passenger. Not a Knight Radiant, but a woman trained in the use of one of the ancient devices that could transform things from one material to another.

“We didn’t find the Soulcaster,” Rysn said. “Neither the woman nor the device. It seems likely that someone knew the ship was carrying this runaway, and then attacked it, murdering the crew to get the Soulcaster.”

The devices were rare and extremely powerful. Most kingdoms had access to only a handful of Soulcasters—if any at all. Many people in Thaylenah thought the Alethi’s wartime prowess was due less to superior troops, and more to the number of Soulcasters they had feeding said troops.

It wasn’t the kind of thing one pointed out to one’s allies. Particularly not while in a joint large-scale war against ancient monsters from the Void.

“Yes . . . perhaps,” Navani said, rolling her notes and tapping them softly against her other hand. “I have spoken to the prince of Liafor, who says the Soulcaster thought that Aimia—as the ancient home of Soulcasters—might contain secrets to healing her afflictions. More, the ship’s captain—a man named Vazrmeb—was infatuated with the legendary riches of Akinah, the lost capital of Aimia.”

Curious. That was more than Vstim knew. The queen appeared as resourceful as her reputation implied.

“Aimia is barren,” Rysn said carefully. “It’s been thoroughly scouted, and hundreds of captains—with stars in their eyes—have tried finding mysterious fortunes on the island. They’ve all returned empty-handed.”

“From the large island, yes,” Navani said. “But what of the smaller ones surrounding it? What of the hidden one, shrouded in mystery and storm?”

“The Rock of Secrets,” Rysn said. “The mythical Akinah. Some say it is only a legend.”

“They said the same about Urithiru,” Navani said. “Some scholars think the ruins they’ve found in other locations are remnants of the city, but their evidence is weak. Our Windrunners report a strange weather pattern surrounding a specific place in the ocean there, the very place the ghost ship was said to have been on course to visit before falling.

“I’m convinced Akinah is hidden inside that strange weather pattern. Either way, we need to investigate. My husband worries the winds might veil an enemy fortress.”

“Your Windrunners reported?” Rysn said. “So . . . why not have them fly down and investigate?” This was the item from the request that most confused her, the one that had made her come to Urithiru to ask in person. Why did the Knights Radiant need the help of a common sailing vessel?

“There is . . . something on that island,” Navani said. “Something that is able to undermine the powers of the Knights Radiant. My soldiers reported seeing swarms of small shadows darting through the clouds. And legends about Aimia speak of mythical creatures that feed off Stormlight.”

Reflexively, Rysn glanced toward the palanquin and Chiri-Chiri inside. Navani watched her, calm, her lips cocked slightly to the side. She knew. Well, of course she did. Rysn hadn’t tried to keep Chiri-Chiri hidden—and the little larkin wouldn’t have let her if she had.

“May I see the creature?” Navani asked. “I promise I won’t try to separate it from you.”

Well, Rysn had known this conversation would be difficult for her to steer. You couldn’t always negotiate from a position of power. So she waved for Nikli to pick Chiri-Chiri up and carry her over.

As the months had passed, Rysn had begun to truly grasp the strategic importance of Stormlight as a fuel both for fabrials and for the Knights Radiant. Beyond that, the enemy had creatures—known as Fused—who used the Void’s own Light. Chiri-Chiri fed on that just as eagerly as Stormlight.

Was the strange creature she kept as a pet something more dangerous, and more important, than she’d ever stopped to consider? Rysn took Chiri-Chiri, who stood up, then lifted her wings. A sleek monster in miniature—despite her wan carapace, she was as majestic as any greatshell. Indeed, Chiri-Chiri seemed more energetic than she had earlier. Perhaps she was feeling better.

A few awespren, like rings of blue smoke, appeared around Navani as she leaned down. “It’s gorgeous,” she whispered. “And does it really . . .”

As if in response, Chiri-Chiri clicked and took to the air, her wings beating quickly. She flew across the room to the wall where she grasped hold of the lamp fixture. Rysn put her hand to her face as—without so much as a click of embarrassment—Chiri-Chiri ingested the Stormlight in the lamp, darkening the room significantly.

“I’m sorry, Brightness,” Rysn said. “We’ve been trying to work on not eating lights inside fixtures. She’s been feeling sick lately though, and has been regressing.”

Navani merely watched with wide eyes. She brought out a few diamond chips and scattered them on her table. Fortunately, Chiri-Chiri saw these as easier prey, and dropped to the table with a thump to begin ingesting their Light. After consuming a few, she mouthed one of the spheres and began to play with it, rolling it away, then hopping over and catching it in her mouth before it could fall off the desk.

“Is this it?” Navani whispered. “The way the Thaylen artifabrians can so carefully adjust the Stormlight in their fabrials? Do your people have dozens of these beasts hidden away?”

“What?” Rysn said. “No, Brightness. I was given Chiri-Chiri on a trading expedition in the Reshi Isles. She’s the only one I’ve ever seen; an oddity, not a secret weapon.”