Oathbringer (The Stormlight Archive #3)

She went on at length, talking of defensive constructions, air filtration, and the wells. She pointed out groupings of rooms that were shaped oddly, and of the bizarre murals they’d found, depicting fanciful creatures.

When she eventually finished, Kalami reported on her team, who were convinced that certain gold and copper metalworks they’d found embedded in walls were fabrials, but they didn’t seem to do anything, even with gems attached. She passed around drawings, then moved on to explaining the efforts—failed so far—they’d taken to try to infuse the gemstone pillar. The only working fabrials were the lifts.

“I suggest,” interrupted Elthebar, head of the stormwardens, “that the ratio of the gears used in the lift machinery might be indicative of the nature of those who built it. It is the science of digitology, you see. You can judge much about a man by the width of his fingers.”

“And this has to do with gears … how?” Teshav asked.

“In every way!” Elthebar said. “Why, the fact that you don’t know this is a clear indication that you are a scribe. Your writing is pretty, Brightness. But you must give more heed to science.”

Pattern buzzed softly.

“I never have liked him,” Shallan whispered. “He acts nice around Dalinar, but he’s quite mean.”

“So … which attribute of his are we totaling and how many people are in the sample size?” Pattern asked.

“Do you think, maybe,” Janala said, “we are asking the wrong questions?”

Shallan narrowed her eyes, but checked herself, suppressing her jealousy. There was no need to hate someone simply because they’d been close to Adolin.

It was just that something felt … off about Janala. Like many women at court, her laughter sounded rehearsed, contained. Like they used it as a seasoning, rather than actually feeling it.

“What do you mean, child?” Adrotagia asked Janala.

“Well, Brightness, we talk about the lifts, the strange fabrial column, the twisting hallways. We try to understand these things merely from their designs. Maybe instead we should figure out the tower’s needs, and then work backward to determine how these things might have met them.”

“Hmmm,” Navani said. “Well, we know that they grew crops outside. Did some of these wall fabrials provide heat?”

Renarin mumbled something.

Everyone in the room looked at him. Not a few seemed surprised to hear him speak, and he shrank back.

“What was that, Renarin?” Navani asked.

“It’s not like that,” he said softly. “They’re not fabrials. They’re a fabrial.”

The scribes and scholars shared looks. The prince … well, he often incited such reactions. Discomforted stares.

“Brightlord?” Janala asked. “Are you perhaps secretly an artifabrian? Studying engineering by night, reading the women’s script?”

Several of the others chuckled. Renarin blushed deeply, lowering his eyes farther.

You’d never laugh like that at any other man of his rank, Shallan thought, feeling her cheeks grow hot. The Alethi court could be severely polite—but that didn’t mean they were nice. Renarin always had been a more acceptable target than Dalinar or Adolin.

Shallan’s anger was a strange sensation. On more than one occasion, she’d been struck by Renarin’s oddness. His presence at this meeting was just another example. Was he thinking of finally joining the ardents? And he did that by simply showing up at a meeting for scribes, as if he were one of the women?

At the same time, how dare Janala embarrass him?

Navani started to say something, but Shallan cut in. “Surely, Janala, you didn’t just try to insult the son of the highprince.”

“What? No, no of course I didn’t.”

“Good,” Shallan said. “Because, if you had been trying to insult him, you did a terrible job. And I’ve heard that you’re very clever. So full of wit, and charm, and … other things.”

Janala frowned at her. “… Is that flattery?”

“We weren’t talking of your chest, dear. We’re speaking of your mind! Your wonderful, brilliant mind, so keen that it’s never been sharpened! So quick, it’s still running when everyone else is done! So dazzling, it’s never failed to leave everyone in awe at the things you say. So … um…”

Jasnah was glaring at her.

“… Hmm…” Shallan held up her notebook. “I took notes.”

“Could we have a short break, Mother?” Jasnah asked.

“An excellent suggestion,” Navani said. “Fifteen minutes, during which everyone should consider a list of requirements this tower would have, if it were to somehow become self-sufficient.”

She rose, and the meeting broke up into individual conversations again.

“I see,” Jasnah said to Shallan, “that you still use your tongue like a bludgeon rather than a knife.”

“Yeah.” Shallan sighed. “Any tips?”

Jasnah eyed her.

“You heard what she said to Renarin, Brightness!”

“And Mother was about to speak to her about it,” Jasnah said, “discreetly, with a judicious word. Instead, you threw a dictionary at her head.”

“Sorry. She gets on my nerves.”

“Janala is a fool, just bright enough to be proud of the wits she has, but stupid enough to be unaware of how outmatched they are.” Jasnah rubbed her temples. “Storms. This is why I never take wards.”

“Because they give you so much trouble.”

“Because I’m bad at it. I have scientific evidence of that fact, and you are but the latest experiment.” Jasnah shooed her away, rubbing her temples.

Shallan, feeling ashamed, walked to the side of the room, while everyone else got refreshments.

“Mmmm!” Pattern said as Shallan leaned against the wall, notebook held closer to her chest. “Jasnah doesn’t seem angry. Why are you sad?”

“Because I’m an idiot,” Shallan said. “And a fool. And … because I don’t know what I want.” Hadn’t it been only a week or two ago that she’d innocently assumed she had it figured out? Whatever “it” was?

“I can see him!” said a voice to her side.

Shallan jumped and turned to find Renarin staring at her skirt and the pattern there, which blended into her embroidery. Distinct if you knew to look, but easy to miss.

“He doesn’t turn invisible?” Renarin said.

“He says he can’t.”

Renarin nodded, then looked up at her. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Defending my honor. When Adolin does that, someone usually gets stabbed. Your way was pleasanter.”

“Well, nobody should take that tone with you. They wouldn’t dare do it to Adolin. And besides, you’re right. This place is one big fabrial.”

“You feel it too? They keep talking about this device or that device, but that’s wrong, isn’t it? That’s like taking the parts of a cart, without realizing you’ve got a cart in the first place.”

Shallan leaned in. “That thing that we fought, Renarin. It could stretch its tendrils all the way up to the very top of Urithiru. I felt its wrongness wherever I went. That gemstone at the center is tied to everything.”

“Yes, this isn’t only a collection of fabrials. It’s many fabrials put together to make one big fabrial.”

“But what does it do?” Shallan asked.

“It does being a city.” He frowned. “Well, I mean, it bees a city.… It does what the city is.…”