3

The Lopen had never known there were so many different types of people in the world.

Oh, he’d expected there to be a lot, sure. But not so many. At Urithiru, you could see them all. How they dressed, how they talked, how they ate. Today, he zoomed past men from Steen with their beards wrapped in cords to make them long like a sausage. Women from Tashikk, wearing colorful wraps. Traders from New Natanan, with blue to their skin, as if they had sapphires in their veins.

All so different. He figured, sure, that people must be like mountains. See, when you were far away from mountains, they all basically looked the same. Fly up high, soar over them in a hurry, and there was no time for detail. Pointed. Covered in snow. Mountain. Got it.

Fly up close, and they each had their own distinctive jagged bits and places where the rock showed through. He’d even found flowers growing on a few, near vents that let out warm air. The problem with people was that everyone saw other nations from far away. Saw them as big mountainous blobs. Foreigners. Strange. Got it.

Up close, it was hard to see people that way. Each was so distinctive. Everyone should use a “the” in front of their name. He’d merely figured that out first.

Rua, his spren, darted out of a side corridor ahead, then spun around in a loop, excited. Looked like he’d found the Reshi people Lopen was supposed to meet with today. Great! Lopen increased his speed with a Lashing, soaring a couple feet over the heads of the people in the corridor. Some of them cringed with startled expressions. He was doing them a favor, sure, because they should be used to Windrunners flying overhead. What did they expect him to do? Walk?

Rua transformed into one of his favorite shapes—a flying chull with broad wings—and zoomed alongside Lopen. At the next intersection, Rua led him left. They emerged into the atrium: a big open section that seemed to have no roof, just tens upon tens of levels with balconies and a large window.

Here, Lopen finally found his Reshi visitors. Storms! How’d they gotten so far inside in such a short time? “Nice work, naco,” he said to Rua, then Lashed himself downward so he landed near the visitors.

He strode toward them, hands out. “Greetings! And I am the Lopen, Windrunner, poet, and your most humble servant. You must be King Ral-na!”

He’d been warned the king would be the one in the robes. He was a short man with greying hair, though his robes parted down the front to show firm pectoral muscles. He was attended by a group of fierce men in wraps, carrying spears.

“I speak for the king,” one of them said in pretty good Alethi. The tall figure wore his hair in two long braids. “You may call me Talik.”

“Sure, Talik!” Lopen said. “Do you like to fly?”

“I wouldn’t be able to say,” Talik replied. “Were you the one who was supposed to—”

“We can talk,” Lopen said, “later.” He grabbed Talik by the arm, infused him, waved to the others, then launched the two of them high into the air.

They shot up along the window, passing story after story. Lopen hung on tight. This Talik fellow was an important official, and it wouldn’t do to drop him or something. He was surrounded by shockspren in the shape of pale yellow triangles. So he seemed to be enjoying the ride.

“Now see, I figure that you live on a giant crab out in the ocean, right?” Lopen said as they flew. “One of the really big ones. A bigger-than-a-town type crab.

“I had a cousin once, sure, who had a crab he swore had bred with chulls, but I didn’t think that was possible, even if it came up to my knees. So it was a big storming crab. But we couldn’t build a house on its back. That’s wild, velo. You deserve respect for living on a giant crab. Who lives on a crab? No regular people. Just people like you.”

Lopen slowed them near the top, where the atrium finally ended, maybe a thousand feet in the air or more. It provided the best view out the window: an amazing field of snow-tipped mountains. Lopen could appreciate, from up here, how they all looked the same. One shouldn’t forget that they weren’t, sure, but there was a perspective from a distance—different from the up-close perspective.

Up close, differences could chafe. But if you remembered that from far away you all looked the same . . . well, that was important too.

“What is this?” Talik demanded. “Are you trying to intimidate me?”

“Intimidate?” Lopen said, then glanced to Rua, who grew six arms and used all of them to smack his forehead at the stupidity of that idea. “Velo,” Lopen said to Talik, “you live up high on a giant crab. I figured you’d like heights.”

“They don’t frighten me,” Talik said, folding his arms.

“Yeah, good. See, look. The view is great, right? Something you’ve never seen, right? I know about the Reshi Sea—my cousin, he lived out on the coast, and I’ve heard him say how hot it is there. No snow.”

Talik regarded him as they both hung in the air. Then the man turned and peered out the window, inspecting the beautiful field of mountains. “That . . . is rather spectacular.”

“See?” Lopen said. “I told Kaladin, ‘I’m gonna fly those Reshi guys up high.’ And Kaladin said, ‘I don’t think that’s a good—’ but I didn’t let him finish, because he was going to grumble, so I said, ‘No, I got this, gancho. They’re gonna love it.’ And you love it.”

“I . . . don’t know what to make of you,” Talik admitted.

“Nah, velo, you do. I’m the Lopen.” He pointed at himself. Rua appeared to Talik and gestured with the six arms, then grew two more for effect. “So what do you think? Should I fly your king up here? I was a king for, sure, only a couple of hours. So I don’t really know what kings like.”

“You . . . were a king?”

“For two hours,” Lopen said. “It’s a long story. But my arm was newly regrown then, so for a while that arm had only been a king. Never not a king. Wild, eh?”

Talik looked down, then waggled his feet. “How long . . .”

“Oh, you’re safe,” Lopen said. “If you drop, it would take way long for you to hit. I’d catch you first.”

“That’s not terribly encouraging . . .” Talik said. He took a deep breath, then studied Lopen. “Normally, I would assume a person who brought me up here like this had done so to discomfort me during our negotiations. But you . . . really aren’t doing that, are you?”

“We can go down if you want,” Lopen said. “I just thought . . . I mean, you like it, right?”

“I do,” Talik said, then smiled. “I will admit to finding myself . . . encouraged by the presence of a Herdazian among the Knights Radiant. I lived among your people for several years, Windrunner. Let me ask you this. In your opinion, do they truly care about us? The Alethi, the Vedens, the Azish? For centuries, they’ve ignored us in the Isles. Now, amid a war, they write to us? They ask for a meeting with our king?

“We are a proud people, the Lopen—but small, insignificant. Paid attention to by outsiders for our novelty, or for the ways we can be exploited. I trained in Thaylenah. I know how we’re regarded. And I know they have historically treated you the same way. So can you tell me why the greatest kings in Roshar would suddenly show interest in us?”

“Oh, that,” Lopen said. “Yeah, they think maybe the enemy will start moving troops through the sea to land for an invasion of Jah Keved in the east. So, Dalinar and Jasnah figure it would be good to have you on their side.”

“So it’s purely political,” Talik said.

“Purely?” Lopen shrugged, and Rua did too. “They’re trying to be good, velo. But they’re, you know, Alethi. Conquering folks is basically their primary cultural heritage. It’s taking some time for them to learn to see things another way—but they are listening. They agreed to let me talk to you, after I explained we were practically cousins, what with the Reshi Isles being so close to Herdaz.”

Talik nodded.

“I was one of the ones that told them to send to you,” Lopen said. “See, lots of us people—Herdaz, Reshi, even Thaylenah to an extent—are small. But the whole world has been invaded, not only the big places. And a lot of small people make big numbers, velo. That’s why I wanted to talk to you first, to ask you to listen to what the Alethi say.”

“I will suggest to the king that he accept your advice, the Lopen,” Talik said, then extended his hand. “I appreciate your sincerity. It is not what I expected to find in this city.”

Lopen took the hand.

“Before you take me down,” Talik said, “I have a . . . somewhat delicate question for you. Our king, who is one of my parents, has undergone some unusual physical changes lately. They have transformed him in dramatic ways, and at first we thought it was a gift of our god, as he was not born looking as he does now. We now realize this transformation is in relation to a spren he has been seeing. It is why he agreed to make this long trip.”

“Your king is Radiant!” Lopen said. “What kind?”

“He can make the very air seem to catch flame,” Talik said. “And sees a spren that burns through the inside of objects in curious treelike patterns.”

“Dustbringer,” Lopen said. “We’ve been hoping to find some more. Look, this is great. But don’t talk to the ones we already have, all right? It’s complicated, but we’d love to see you figure your own way, without anyone interfering.”

“I do not understand.”

“I don’t really either,” Lopen said. “Have your king talk to Dalinar about it, all right? But don’t tell anyone else. It’s politics. The annoying kind.”

“There’s another kind?”

Lopen grinned. “I like you, velo.” He grabbed Talik by the arm and flew him to the floor—where a number of his friends were arguing loudly with some of Dalinar’s soldiers. They were all surrounded by pools of angerspren and gesturing at the sky. Poor guys. Probably sad they didn’t get to fly too.

Kaladin had arrived, so Lopen towed Talik over and presented him. “This is my cousin Talik,” Lopen said, pointing. “He’s, sure, the king’s son. Treat him well, gancho.”

“I’ll try,” Kaladin said, his voice dry. “I hope Lopen’s tour of the tower was informative.”

“Tour . . . ?” Talik said, glancing at Lopen, who made some low-key shushing gestures. Wasn’t Lopen’s fault he’d spent too long at lunch and hadn’t managed to greet the Reshi when they arrived. He blamed Cord’s cooking. “Yes . . .” Talik continued. “It was informative.”

“Excellent,” Kaladin said. “I have scheduled a meeting for your king with Dalinar and Navani Kholin, rulers of this tower. Though perhaps we should first deal with whatever is happening over there. . . .” He pointed at the Reshi king’s arguing soldiers. Talik rushed over to calm them, though Kaladin lingered with Lopen.

“Where is Huio?” Kaladin asked.

“He was busy. So I went on my own.”

Kaladin gave him a long-suffering look. Huio and Lopen had persuaded him that the Reshi would respond best to Herdazians meeting them, and that was true. So why was he having a problem?

“I had counted,” Kaladin said, “on Huio reining you in a little, Lopen. You didn’t do anything stupid, did you? You did ask before you flew him up high, right?”

“Um . . .”

“Lopen,” Kaladin said softly. “You need to start thinking more about what you do and say. Please. Be more careful.”

“I will,” Lopen promised quickly. “Look, everything turned out all right, gancho! That Talik fellow, he’s a good one. Take care of him. These Reshi have a secret you’ll find interesting, and they might tell you, if you’re nice.”

“What? Why don’t you tell me?”

“Can’t, gancho,” Lopen said. “They told me in confidence.”

“Lopen,” Kaladin said with another of his long-suffering captain-of-the-world sighs. “You were sent specifically to do reconnaissance on this group.”

“Sure, and I did. But I can’t betray their secrets. They’re my cousins, gon.”

“They’re not your cousins.”

“Herdaz is next to Reshi. So we’re cousins.”

“Alethkar is next to Herdaz too,” Kaladin said. “So I’m as much your cousin as those people are.”

Lopen tapped him on the shoulder and winked. “You’re finally figuring it out, gancho. Good job.”

“Well, I suppose that’s beside the point. I want to ask you something. The queen needs me to send some Windrunners on a mission to—”

“Oh!” Lopen said. “Pick me. I wanna do it.”

“You don’t even know what the mission is, Lopen.”

“Still volunteering,” Lopen said. “Sounds special.”

“We’re sending another mission to Akinah.”

“The place where Leyten got dropped into the ocean?” Lyn and Sigzil had barely managed to rescue him after something sucked away his Stormlight.

“Same,” Kaladin said. “We don’t have a lot of resources to spare at the moment, but Navani is convinced something important is hiding on that island. So we’re sending a scouting mission via ship. I suggested we send Windrunners who could swim, just in case. That means you and Huio.”

“Pick me!”

“I literally just did.”

“I know. That was for old time’s sake.”

“Navani’s sending a scribe,” Kaladin continued, “and you should listen to her advice. Also, I was thinking it might be good to send Rock. He’s one of the only other members of Bridge Four who can swim, and Leyten’s report included seeing strange spren in the clouds. They might be involved with whatever is leeching Stormlight. It would be nice to have him along to see Voidspren, if they try to remain hidden.”

“Rock won’t go,” Lopen said. “Next week’s his anniversary with his wife. We can take Cord. She can see spren too, and she wants to see more of the world. Besides, Rua likes her.”

Kaladin glanced toward the honorspren, who was bouncing along the ground in the shape of a full-sized axehound. “Lopen. I’m worried about this mission. Something about it doesn’t feel right. I’d go myself, but . . .”

Lopen understood. Kaladin already had to divide his time between the battlefronts in southern Alethkar and Azir. Plus he had to organize patrols to watch the coalition fleets from above, and see to training here in the tower. The numbers of Windrunners were swelling, now that so many of the original crew were picking up their own squires.

It was a lot for one man to track. They were long past the point where Kaladin could go with every team to watch them personally. It seemed to be tearing him apart inside to let go.

“Hey, gancho,” Lopen said, his hand on Kaladin’s shoulder. “I’ll make sure everyone comes back, all right? Don’t you worry.”

“Make sure you come back too,” Kaladin said. “Go talk to Huio and Cord and see if they’re willing. Then report to Rushu, the ardent you’ll be accompanying. She has information on some secret details of your mission that I don’t want to discuss in public. After that, have your team travel to Thaylen City via Oathgate and report to the docks tomorrow morning. And be careful.”

“Gancho, I’m always careful.”

“Are you?”

“Of course,” he said, pointing at himself. “What? You think this happens by accident?” He grinned, waved Rua over, then went to taunt Huio about being sent on a special mission—before relenting and telling him that he got to go too.