Warbreaker
Page 84“The invasion will happen if we stay, too.”
Not if I take control of my throne, Susebron wrote. The people of Hallandren, even the gods, are obligated to obey me. There will be no war if they know I disapprove. He erased, then continued, writing faster. I have told the priests that I don’t wish to go to war, and they appeared sympathetic. However, they have done nothing.
“They are probably worried,” Siri said. “If they let you start making policy, then you may begin to think that you don’t need them.”
They’d be right, he wrote, smiling. I need to become the leader of my people, Siri. That is the only way to protect your beautiful hills and the family you love so much.
Siri fell silent, offering no further objections. To do as he was saying would be to play their hand. Make a gamble for everything. If they failed, the priests would undoubtedly figure out that Siri and Susebron were in communication. That would spell the end of their time alone together.
Susebron obviously noticed her concern. It is dangerous, but it is the best option. Fleeing would be just as risky, and it would leave us in far worse circumstances. In Idris, we would be seen as the reason the Hallandren armies had come. Other countries would be even more dangerous.
Siri slowly nodded. In another country, they’d have no money and would make perfect subjects for ransom. They’d escape the priests only to find themselves being held captive to be used against Hallandren. The Kingdom of Iridescence was still widely disliked because of the Manywar.
“We’d be taken captive, as you say,” she acknowledged. “Plus, if we were in another country, I doubt we’d be able to get you a Breath every week. Without them, you’d die.”
He looked hesitant.
“What?” she asked.
I would not die without Breath, he wrote. But that is not an argument in favor of flight.
“You mean the stories of Returned needing Breath to live are lies?” Siri asked incredulously.
Not at all, he wrote quickly. We do need Breath—but you forget that I hold the wealth of Breath passed down for generations in my family. I heard my priests speak of this once. If it were necessary to move me, I could survive on the extra Breaths I hold. Those over and above the Breath that makes me Returned. My body would simply feed off those extra Breaths, absorbing one a week.
Siri sat back thoughtfully. That seemed to imply something about Breath that she couldn’t quite figure out. Unfortunately, she just didn’t have the experience to sort through it.
“All right,” she said. “So we could go into hiding if we needed to.”
I said this was not an argument for fleeing, Susebron wrote. My treasure of Breaths might keep me alive, but it would also make me a very valuable target. Everyone will want those Breaths—even if I weren’t the God King, I would be in danger.
That was very true. Siri nodded. “All right,” she said. “If we’re really going to try exposing what the priests have done, I think we make our move soon. If I display any signs of being pregnant, I bet it will take the priests all of two heartbeats to sequester me.”
Siri nodded nervously. “I could sit with Lightsong,” she said, “and plead for his help. If we go to several of the other gods, perhaps they—in front of the crowds—can demand to know whether or not I am lying.”
And I will open my mouth and reveal that I have no tongue, he wrote. Then let us see what the priests do. They will be forced to bow to the will of their own pantheon.
Siri nodded. “All right,” she said. “Let’s try it.”
49
Vasher found her practicing again.
He hovered outside the window, lowered down from the roof via an Awakened rope which gripped him about the waist. Inside, Vivenna repeatedly Awakened a strip of cloth, unaware of Vasher. She Commanded the cloth to wiggle across the room, wrap around a cup, then bring that cup back without spilling.
She’s learning so quickly, he thought. The Commands themselves were simple to say, but providing the right mental impulse was difficult. It was like learning to control a second body. Vivenna was quick. Yes, she had a lot of Breath. That made it easier, but true Instinctive Awakening—the ability to Awaken objects without training or practice—was a gift granted only by the Sixth Heightening. That was one step beyond even what Returned had, with their single deific Breath. Vivenna was far from that stage. She learned faster than she should have, even if he knew she was frustrated by how often she got things wrong.
Even as he watched, she made a mistake. The cloth wiggled across the room, but climbed into the cup instead of wrapping around it. It shook, making the cup fall over, then the rope finally returned, leaving a soggy trail. Vivenna cursed and walked over to refill the cup. She never noticed Vasher hanging just outside. He wasn’t surprised—he was currently a Drab, his excess Breath stored in his shirt.
She replaced the cup, and he pulled himself up as she walked back. Of course, the mechanics of how he moved about with the ropes were far more complicated than they seemed. His Command incorporated making the rope respond to taps of his finger along its length. Awakening was different from creating a Lifeless—Lifeless had brains and could interpret Commands and requests. The rope had none of that; it could only act on its original instructions.
With a few taps, he lowered himself again, Vivenna faced away from him as she picked up another colored swatch to use as fuel when she Awakened her cup-fetching ribbon.
I like her, Nightblood said. I’m glad we didn’t kill her.
Vasher didn’t respond.
She’s very pretty, don’t you think? Nightblood asked.
You can’t tell, Vasher replied.
I can tell, Nightblood said. I’ve decided that I can.
Vasher shook his head. Pretty or not, the woman should never have come to Hallandren. She’d given Denth a perfect tool. Of course, he admitted wryly, Denth probably didn’t need that tool. Hallandren and Idris were close to snapping. Vasher had stayed away too long. He knew that. He also knew that there was no way he would have come back earlier.
* * *
VIVENNA TURNED AS VASHER ENTERED. She set down the cup, hurriedly stuffing the cloth in her pocket. What does it matter if he sees me practicing? she thought, flushing. It’s not like I have anything to hide. But practicing before him was embarrassing. He was so stern, so unforgiving of faults. She didn’t like him to see her fail.
Well?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Both the house you were using and the safe house in the slums are empty,” he said. “Denth is too clever to get caught like that. He must have figured that you would reveal his location.”
Vivenna ground her teeth in frustration, settling back against the wall. Like the other rooms they had stayed in, this one was utterly simple. Their only possessions were a pair of bedrolls and their changes of clothing, all of which Vasher carried about in his duffel.
Denth lived far more luxuriously. He could afford to—he now held all of Lemex’s money. Clever bit, that, she thought. Giving me the money, making me feel like I was in charge. He knew all along that the gold was never out of his hands, just as I never was.
“I was hoping we’d be able to watch him,” she said. “Maybe get a jump on what he’s planning next.”
Vasher shrugged. “Didn’t work. No use crying about it. Come on. I think I can get us in to meet with some of the Idrian workers at one of the orchards, assuming we arrive during the lunch break.”
Vivenna frowned as he turned to go. “Vasher,” she said. “We can’t keep doing this.”
“This?”
“When I was with Denth, we met with crime lords and politicians. You and I are meeting with peasants on corners and in fields.”
“They’re good people!”
“I know they are,” Vivenna said quickly. “But, do you really think we’re making a difference? Compared to what Denth is probably doing, I mean?”
He frowned, but instead of arguing with her, he just pounded his fist against the side of the wall. “I know,” he said. “I’ve tried other leads, but most everything I do seems a step behind Denth. I can kill his gangs of thieves, but he has more of them than I can find. I’ve tried to figure out who is behind the war—even followed leads in the Court of Gods itself—but everyone is growing more and more tight-lipped. They assume the war to be inevitable, now, and don’t want to be seen as being on the losing side of the argument.”
“What about priests?” Vivenna said. “Aren’t they the ones who bring things to the attention of the gods? If we can get more of them to argue against the war, then maybe we can stop it.”
“Priests are fickle,” Vasher said with a shake of his head. “Most of those who argued against the war have caved in. Even Nanrovah switched sides on me.”
“High priest of Stillmark,” Vasher said. “I thought he was solid—he even met with me a few times to talk about his opposition of the war. Now he refuses to see me anymore and has switched sides. Colorless liar.”
Vivenna frowned. Nanrovah . . . “Vasher,” she said. “We did something to him.”
“What?”
“Denth and his team,” Vivenna said. “We helped a gang of thieves rob from a salt peddler. We used a couple of distractions to cover the burglary. We set a fire in a nearby building and overturned a carriage that was passing through the garden. The carriage belonged to a high priest. I think his name was Nanrovah.”
Vasher cursed quietly.
“You think it might be connected?” she asked.
“Maybe. You know which thieves were actually doing the robbery?”
She shook her head.
“I’ll be back,” he said. “Wait here.”
* * *
SO SHE DID. She waited for hours. She tried practicing her Awakening, but she’d already spent most of the day working on that. She was mentally exhausted and found it difficult to concentrate. Eventually, she found herself staring out the window in annoyance. Denth had always let her go along on his information gathering forays.
That was just because he wanted to keep me close, she thought. Now that she looked back, there were obviously lots of things Denth had been hiding from her. Vasher just didn’t care to placate her.
He wasn’t stingy with information, though, when she asked. His answers were grumpy, but he did usually answer. She still mulled over their conversation about Awakening. Less because of what he’d said. More because of the way he’d said it.