“Odium.”
The Reshi girl shivered visibly.
“Could you go and talk to the viziers?” Dalinar asked. “Tell them that you think supporting my coalition is a good idea? They listened to you when you asked to unlock the Oathgate.”
“Nah, they listened to Gawx,” she said. “The geezers that run the city don’t like me much.”
Dalinar grunted. “Your name is Lift, right?”
“Right.”
“And your order?”
“More food.”
“I meant your order of Knights Radiant. What powers do you have?”
“Oh. Um … Edgedancer? I slip around and stuff.”
“Slip around.”
“It’s real fun. Except when I run into things. Then it’s only kinda fun.”
Dalinar leaned forward, wishing—again—he could go in and talk to all those fools and scribes.
No. For once, trust in someone else, Dalinar.
Lift cocked her head. “Huh. You smell like her.”
“Her?”
“The crazy spren who lives in the forest.”
“You’ve met the Nightwatcher?”
“Yeah … You?”
He nodded.
They sat there, uncomfortable, until the young girl handed one of her bowls of dried fruit toward Dalinar. He took a piece and chewed it in silence, and she took another.
They ate the entire bowl, saying nothing until the door opened. Dalinar jumped. Noura stood in the doorway, flanked by other viziers. Her eyes flickered toward Lift, and she smiled. Noura didn’t seem to think as poorly of Lift as the little girl indicated.
Dalinar stood up, feeling a sense of dread. He prepared his arguments, his pleas. They had to—
“The emperor and his council,” Noura said, “have decided to accept your invitation to visit Urithiru.”
Dalinar cut off his objection. Did she say accept?
“The Prime of Emul has almost reached Azir,” Noura said. “He brought the Sage with him, and they should be willing to join us. Unfortunately, following the parshman assault, Emul is a fraction of what it once was. I suspect he will be eager for any and every source of aid, and will welcome this coalition of yours.
“The prince of Tashikk has an ambassador—his brother—in the city. He’ll come as well, and the princess of Yezier is reportedly coming in person to plead for aid. We’ll see about her. I think she simply believes Azimir will be safer. She lives here half the year anyway.
“Alm and Desh have ambassadors in the city, and Liafor is always eager to join whatever we do, as long as they can cater the storming meetings. I can’t speak for Steen—they’re a tricky bunch. I doubt you want Tukar’s priest-king, and Marat is overrun. But we can bring a good sampling of the empire to join your discussions.”
“I…” Dalinar stammered. “Thank you!” It was actually happening! As they’d hoped, Azir was the linchpin.
“Well, your wife writes a good essay,” Noura said.
He started. “Navani’s essay was the one that convinced you? Not Jasnah’s?”
“Each of the three arguments were weighed favorably, and the reports from Thaylen City are encouraging,” Noura said. “That had no small part in our decision. But while Jasnah Kholin’s writing is every bit as impressive as her reputation suggests, there was something … more authentic about Lady Navani’s plea.”
“She is one of the most authentic people I know.” Dalinar smiled like a fool. “And she is good at getting what she wants.”
“Let me lead you back to the Oathgate. We will be in contact about the Prime’s visit to your city.”
Dalinar collected his spanreed and bade farewell to Lift, who stood on the back of the couch and waved to him. The sky looked brighter as the viziers accompanied him back to the dome that housed the Oathgate. He could hear them speaking eagerly as they entered the rickshaws; they seemed to be embracing this decision with gusto, now that it had been made.
Dalinar passed the trip quietly, worried that he might say something brutish and ruin things. Once they entered the market dome, he did take the opportunity to mention to Noura that the Oathgate could be used to transport everything there, including the dome itself.
“I’m afraid that it’s a larger security threat than you know,” he finished saying to her as they reached the control building.
“What would it do,” she said, “if we built a structure halfway across the plateau perimeter? Would it slice the thing in two? What if a person is half on, half off?”
“That we don’t know yet,” Dalinar said, fumbling the spanreed on and off in a pattern to send the signal that would bring Jasnah back through the Oathgate to fetch him.
“I’ll admit,” Noura said softly as the other viziers chatted behind, “I’m … not pleased at being overruled. I am the emperor’s loyal servant, but I do not like the idea of your Radiants, Dalinar Kholin. These powers are dangerous, and the ancient Radiants turned traitor in the end.”
“I will convince you,” Dalinar said. “We will prove ourselves to you. All I need is a chance.”
The Oathgate flashed, and Jasnah appeared inside. Dalinar bowed to Noura in respect, then stepped backward into the building.
“You are not what I expected, Blackthorn,” Noura said.
“And what did you expect?”
“An animal,” she said frankly. “A half-man creature of war and blood.”
Something about that struck him. An animal … Echoes of memories shuddered inside of him.
“I was that man,” Dalinar said. “I’ve merely been blessed with enough good examples to make me aspire to something more.” He nodded to Jasnah, who repositioned her sword, rotating the inner wall to initiate the transfer and take them back to Urithiru.
Navani waited outside the building. Dalinar stepped out and blinked at the sunlight, chilled by the mountain cold. He smiled broadly at her, opening his mouth to tell her what her essay had done.
An animal … An animal reacts when it is prodded …
Memories.
You whip it, and it becomes savage.
Dalinar stumbled.
He vaguely heard Navani crying out, yelling for help. His vision spun, and he fell to his knees, feeling an overwhelming nausea. He clawed at the stone, groaning, breaking fingernails. Navani … Navani was calling for a healer. She thought he’d been poisoned.
It wasn’t that. No, it was far, far worse.
Storms. He remembered. It came crashing down on him, the weight of a thousand boulders.
He remembered what had happened to Evi. It had started in a cold fortress, in highlands once claimed by Jah Keved.
It had ended at the Rift.
66. Strategist
Dalinar’s breath misted as he leaned on the stone windowsill. In the room behind him, soldiers set up a table with a map on it.
“See there,” Dalinar said, pointing out the window. “That ledge down there?”
Adolin, now twelve years old—nearly thirteen—leaned out the window. The outside of the large stone keep bulged here at the second floor, which would make scaling it challenging—but the stonework provided a convenient handhold in the form of a ledge right below the window.
“I see it,” Adolin said.