The king strode through the gallery, then looked up the broad stairs.

“Your Majesty?” Kaladin called.

“I’m going to lead a force up to the royal chambers,” Elhokar said. “Someone needs to find out what happened to Aesudan, what happened to this whole storming city.”

The glow faded from Kaladin’s eyes, his Stormlight running low. His clothing seemed to droop, his feet settling more solidly on the ground. He suddenly seemed a man again, and Adolin found that more relaxing.

“I’ll go with him,” Kaladin said softly to Adolin, handing him the pack of emeralds, after picking out two brilliant ones for himself. “Take Skar and Drehy, and get Shallan to the Unmade.”

“Sounds good,” Adolin said. He picked out some soldiers to go with the king: a platoon from the Wall Guard, a handful of the armsmen the highlords had brought. And—after some thought—he added Sidin and half a platoon of the men who had been imprisoned in the palace.

“Those troops refused the queen’s orders,” Adolin said to Elhokar, nodding to Sidin. “They seem to have resisted the influence of whatever’s going on in here, and they’ll know the palace better than the Wall Guard.”

“Excellent,” Elhokar said, then started up the steps. “Don’t wait for us. If Brightness Davar is successful, go right to Urithiru and bring our armies back.”

Adolin nodded, then gave Kaladin a quick salute—tapping his wrists together with hands in fists. The Bridge Four salute. “Good luck, bridgeboy.”

Kaladin smiled, his silvery spear vanishing as he gave the salute back, then hustled after the king. Adolin jogged over to Shallan, who was staring along the Sunwalk. Azure had claimed it with her soldiers, but hadn’t advanced onto the Oathgate platform beyond.

Adolin rested his hand on Shallan’s shoulder.

“They’re there,” she whispered. “Two of them, this time. Last night, Adolin … I had to run. The revel was getting inside my head.”

“I’ve heard it,” he said, resummoning his Blade. “We’ll face it together. Like last time.”

Shallan took a deep breath, then summoned Pattern as a Shardblade. She held the Blade before herself in a common stance.

“Good form,” Adolin said.

“I had a good teacher.”

They advanced across the Sunwalk, passing fallen enemy soldiers—and a single dead Fused, pinned to a cleft in the rock by what appeared to be his own lance. Shallan lingered at the corpse, but Adolin pulled her along until they reached the monastery proper. Azure’s soldiers advanced at his command, engaging Palace Guards here to secure a path toward the center.

As they waited, Adolin stepped up to the edge of the plateau and surveyed the city. His home.

It was falling.

The nearest gate had been broken completely open, and parshmen flooded through it toward the palace. Others had taken the walls via ladder crews, and those were pushing down into the city at other points, including near the palace gardens.

That enormous stone monstrosity moved along the wall on the inside, reaching up and slapping at guard towers. A large group of people in varied costumes had surged down Talan Way, passing along one of the windblades. The Cult of Moments? He couldn’t be certain what part they’d played, but parshmen were flooding the city in that direction as well.

We can fix this, Adolin thought. We can bring our armies in, hold the palace hill, push back to the walls. They had dozens of Shardbearers. They had Bridge Four and other Surgebinders. They could save this city.

He just needed to get them here.

Soon, Azure approached with a platoon of thirty men. “The pathway inward is secure, though a knot of the enemy still holds the very center. I’ve spared a few men to scour nearby buildings. It looks like the people you mentioned—the ones who were reveling last night—are slumbering inside. They don’t move, even when we prod them.”

Adolin nodded, then led the way toward the center of the plateau, Shallan and Azure following. They passed battle lines of Azure’s soldiers, who were holding the streets. He soon saw the main force of the enemy, collected on a path between monastery buildings, barring the way to the Oathgate’s control building.

Spurred by the urgency of Kholinar’s predicament, Adolin took point and swept among the enemy, burning their eyes with his Blade. He broke their line, though one straggler almost got in a lucky strike. Skar, fortunately, seemed to appear out of nowhere; the bridgeman caught the blow with his shield, then rammed a spear through the guardsman’s chest.

“How many is that I owe you now?” Adolin asked.

“I wouldn’t think to keep count, Brightlord,” Skar said with a grin, glowing light puffing from his lips.

Drehy joined them, and they chased the routed enemy past the King’s Chapel, finally reaching the control building. Adolin had always known it as the Circle of Memories, merely another part of the monastery. As Shallan had warned, it was overgrown with a dark mass that pulsed and throbbed, like a pitch-black heart. Dark veins spread from it like roots, pulsating in time with the heart.

“Storms…” Drehy whispered.

“All right,” Shallan said, walking forward. “Guard this area. I’ll see what I can do.”

The enemy makes another push toward Feverstone Keep. I wish we knew what it was that had them so interested in that area. Could they be intent on capturing Rall Elorim?

—From drawer 19-2, third topaz

Kaladin charged up the broad stairs, followed by some fifty soldiers.

Stormlight pulsed within him, lending a spring to each step. The Fused had taken time to come attack him on the Sunwalk, and had left soon after Shallan had created her ruse. He could only assume that the city assault was consuming the enemy’s attention, which meant he might be able to use his powers without drawing immediate reprisal.

Elhokar led the way, brilliant Shardblade carried in a two-handed grip. They twisted around at a landing and charged up another flight. Elhokar didn’t seem to care that each step took them farther from the bulk of their army.

“Up the stairs,” he said softly to Syl. “Check for an ambush on each floor.”

“Yessir, commander sir, Radiant sir,” she said, and zipped off. A moment later she zipped back down. “Lots of men on the third floor, but they’re backing away from the stairwell. Doesn’t look like an ambush.”

Kaladin nodded, then slowed Elhokar with a touch on the arm. “We have a reception waiting,” Kaladin said. He pointed at a squad of soldiers. “It seems the king lost his guards somewhere. You’re now them. If we get into combat, keep His Majesty from being surrounded.” He pointed at another group. “You men are … Beard?”

“Yes, Kal?” the stocky guardsman said. He hesitated, then saluted. “Um, sir?” Behind him were Noro, Ved, Alaward, and Vaceslv … Kaladin’s entire squad from the Wall Guard.

Noro shrugged. “Without the captain, we don’t have a proper platoon leader. Figured we should stick with you.”

Beard nodded and rubbed at the glyphward wrapping his right arm. Fortune, it read.

“Good to have you,” Kaladin said. “Try to keep me from being flanked, but give me space if you can.”