A metal door set into the stone at the left side of the room was cracked slightly open. Rysn poled herself over and peeked through to see an even larger corridor, this one with a vaulted ceiling and fine worked stone walls. Light shimmered somewhere farther along it, illuminating large carapace skulls with deep black eye sockets.

Though she was tempted to continue exploring, something about the grand mural in the small room drew Rysn back. She poled over to it as Cord attempted to activate the Shardplate—not a bad idea, considering their situation. Cord asked her for gemstones, and Rysn absently handed over her sphere pouch.

That mural . . . it was circular and—inlaid with golden foil—it seemed to glow with its own light. The writing on parts of it was unfamiliar to Rysn; she hadn’t seen the script during any of her travels. It wasn’t even the Dawnchant.

The peculiar letters were art themselves, curling around the outside of the exploding sun—which was divided into mostly symmetrical pieces. Four of them, each in turn broken into four smaller sections.

Her spear slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. She swore she could feel the heat of that sun, burning, washing over her. It was not angry, though she knew it was being ripped apart like a person on some awful torture device.

She felt something emanating from it. Resignation? Confidence? Understanding?

This is the real treasure, she thought, although she didn’t know why. Those words. Burning on the wall.

Who had created this? She had never experienced such grandeur. She traced the pieces of breaking sunlight with her eyes. Gold foil on the inside. Red foil tracing the outer lines to give them depth and definition. She counted the shards in her mind, over and over, feeling a reverence to the number. The sun held her.

You were brought here, she thought to herself, by one of the Guardians of Ancient Sins.

Of course she had been. That made sense.

Wait. Did it?

Yes, she thought. You were. There are few of them left. And so the Sleepless take up the task.

Naturally. All that nonsense on the surface of the island? Distractions. Intended to keep anyone from looking for this.

Rysn shook herself, tearing her eyes away from the mural. Those had felt like someone else’s thoughts intruding into her mind. What was happening to her? Why had she dropped her spear? After all that work to be able to move on her own, she’d simply let go?

She reached down, but she was too far up in the air. As she leaned over, she felt a pressure on her mind. The mural. Calling to her.

Nearby, Cord muttered softly. Rysn glanced over to find the Horneater woman had the Shardplate boots on, and was now trying to force the breastplate to take her spheres.

“I think you need free gemstones, Cord,” Rysn said. “Not ones encased in glass.”

“I don’t have enough of those,” Cord said.

“We could use these.” Rysn gestured to the rubies under her bench.

Cord hesitated.

“It’s all right,” Rysn said. “If you can get that Plate working, you might be able to defend us.”

Cord nodded, striding over to help Rysn down. She felt . . . regretful. Every time she had a taste of freedom, something happened to steal it away from her.

Cord sat Rysn on the cold stones, then pried the four rubies from their housings. She hooked them into the greaves of the Plate, which she then attached to her legs. They tightened immediately, locking into place.

She glanced at the breastplate. “We need more.”

Rysn pointed to the cracked door on the other side of the room. “I saw light that direction, in the larger tunnel. Maybe gemstones?”

Cord rushed over and pulled open the door, looking past the enormous carapace skulls toward the distant light. “There are spren,” Cord said, then began walking that way, her metal boots clomping on the ground. She carried the breastplate with her, though it seemed extremely heavy.

Rysn turned, trying not to look at the wall, which was growing even warmer. Unfortunately, she soon heard splashes coming from the direction of the pool. Their enemy had found them.

Guardian of Ancient Sins, she thought. What did that mean? Why did the idea repeat over and over in her mind?

She felt the mural looming. Overshadowing her. Slowly, she turned and gazed up at the exploding sun.

Accept it.

Know it.

CHANGE.

It stilled, waiting. Waiting for . . .

“Yes,” Rysn whispered.

Something slammed into her mind. It streamed from the mural through her eyes, searing her skull. It gripped her, held to her, joined with her. Light consumed Rysn entirely.

A moment later, she found herself panting on the ground. She blinked, then felt at her eyes. Though tears leaked from the corners, her skin wasn’t on fire, and she hadn’t been blinded. She glanced up at the mural and noted it was unchanged. Except . . . she no longer felt warmth from it. It was only a mural. Beautiful, yes, but no longer . . .

No longer what? What had changed?

Scuttling sounds. Hundreds of little footsteps on the stone coming from behind. She twisted and grabbed the spear that she’d been using to move earlier, but she was no soldier.

So what was she? Useless?

No, she thought, determined never to sink into that self-pity again. I am far from useless.

It was time to prove she deserved Vstim’s trust.

 

 

17

 

 

Lopen zipped straight toward the giant sea monster. It looked vaguely like an enormous grub with a wicked beak of a face. It had spindly arms running all the way along its body, and had reared up so it was mostly vertical, using its pointed limbs like spears to try to skewer the sailors beneath.

Huio was literally inside the thing’s mouth, holding its mandibles apart with a spear, barely preventing himself from being crushed. So Lopen was able to soar up and grab Huio by the arm, then tow him out of the way. The thing snapped its mouth closed behind them, breaking the spear with an awful crack.

Sailors huddled in the skulls on the beach, using the carapace as cover, clutching spears and cowering before the monster. It was as tall as a building, swarming with arrowhead luckspren. Lopen pulled to a stop in the air, holding Huio. The cousins met one another’s eyes.

Then Huio groaned. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

“Ha!” Lopen said. “You were going to get eaten! You were going to be swallowed by a giant monster that looks like something you’d step on during worming season!”

“Can we focus on the fight?”

“Hey, have you heard about the time I saved Huio from being swallowed? Oh yes. He was going to get eaten. By a monster uglier than the women he courts. And I flew into the thing’s mouth to save him. Off the tongue. Then I was very humble about having done such a heroic deed.”

“Leave that last part off,” Huio said. “It will make them easily discern that you are lying.” He breathed in, borrowing Stormlight from Lopen’s spheres. “Watch out. There are some cremlings around here that steal Stormlight.”

“Is it the one the boss-lady had?”

“No, smaller,” Huio said, Lashing himself so he hovered in the air. “And of a different breed. I didn’t get a good look, but I think they flew around in a little swarm.”

Huio swooped down and snatched a new spear off the ground. Lopen raised his, glancing at Rua, who had changed shape to mimic that of the monster. He bounced around growling. The monster turned toward them and swiped with a spearlike limb, causing a rush of wind as Lopen ducked it.