Chapter Text
Shallan stepped into the shadows, shut her eyes, and became nothing.
Her vision blurred. The stars disappeared, and Salas became a dun sphere on the horizon. It was dangerous to remain in this state for too long, but she still heard voices in the street, shouts and cursings.
Someone glanced into the ruined building where she was hiding. “There's nothing here.”
The voices and footsteps faded down the street.
She still couldn't return to her other form. It wasn't safe yet. Father was still angry, the Highstorm was still raging, and she would be stuck in the house for hours.
I'm in Alethkar, in the capital. Father is miles away, and it's a clear night, she reminded herself.
Become Shallan. For some reason, naming what she wanted to become seemed to help her change. The shadows became darker, the moonlight brighter, the night air suddenly cold. She was huddled in the darkness of an abandoned building.
The words she had just said seemed absurd now that her mind was clearer. She didn't have to become Shallan. Whether she was hidden in empty air or disguised with an illusion, she was still herself. Unfortunately.
She hesitated in the doorway, making sure the sapphire pendant she wore was safe beneath her collar and the broken soulcaster was hidden in her sleeve. She couldn't bring herself to walk down the empty street looking like an isolated, defenseless young girl. Not after all the crimes that had been reported around here. Instead, she took the form of an old woman she had seen outside the People's Court. Shallan wouldn't be able to maintain the illusion for long, since she didn't know anything about the homeless woman, except that she was frightened, and that she didn't want to be here. For a few minutes, that was enough.
Shallan walked quickly—too quickly for an elderly woman, but she was running out of time. She was still out in the open air when the illusion of ragged clothes and wrinkled skin faded away.
She paused. Each time it became more difficult to walk through the door of the abandoned building where Meridas was hiding. She could still run away. He said he had someone watching her family, but maybe he was just trying to manipulate her.
“You maintained that illusion for well over a minute. That should be enough time to get past the guards,” Meridas said.
Shallan looked around, surprised to hear him speaking so loudly and standing in the doorway of the building. He was probably trying to remind her that no one could hear them. Without thinking, she put a hand to her necklace.
“Are you trying to draw the attention of the city guards by changing your illusions in public?” he asked.
It wasn't as if anyone could see her. The city watch had abandoned this crumbling district of Alethkar, and besides, Salas was setting, and Nomon had not yet risen. There was only the light of the stars.
After Shallan followed him into the building, Meridas looked at her as if expecting her to answer a question.
“They wouldn't let a beggar into the royal armory," Shallan said.
Meridas kicked the door shut behind them and pulled the cover off a sphere lamp. Despite his abrupt movements, his voice was as calm as always. “I realize that. If your other disguises last for several minutes, why can't you impersonate Princess Jasnah for longer than a second?”
With the toe of her shoe, Shallan traced two overlapping circles on the dusty floor, creating a shape like the center of the double eye of the Almighty. She wasn't sure how to explain her abilities without sounding ignorant and childish. All the words for ideas like this had been in Mother's books, which had been sold before Shallan could finish reading them.
“The more I have in common with someone, the easier it is to imitate them. That homeless woman seemed frightened. She was muttering something about how dangerous the world is becoming, how she had nowhere to turn.” Shallan stepped into the space where the circles overlapped. “With Jasnah, there's nothing here. She's a princess, educated, beautiful, and brilliant. I'm a darkeyed servant.”
“I might believe that if I hadn't seen you disappear into thin air. Are you implying that it's easier to become nothing than to disguise yourself as Jasnah?”
“It makes sense, in a way. All of us become smoke and ashes in the end, but no darkeyes has ever turned into a princess. Besides, it's different from my other disguises. Turning into another essence requires an actual change of form, not just an illusion.” Shallan cringed at her own words. She'd let herself sound too confident, too certain.
Meridas sighed. Unlike most people Shallan knew, he never swore when he was angry. “Can't you just become invisible and steal the Soulcaster?”
Shallan didn't want Meridas to know that she couldn't move when she was invisible, could barely even see or think. “It doesn't work that way. I can't move the Soulcaster when I'm in that form."
“I'm beginning to think you're just making excuses, Shallan.”
“If you want a Soulcaster, I could easily rob an ardent or a rural lighteyes. I just don't understand why I have to steal from the most powerful family in the world."
“It seems your sense of patriotism surpasses even your loyalty to your own family. Or do you think the Kholins will spare you if you betray us?”
“No! I'm just saying this is a complicated plan. I need more time to learn about Brightness Jasnah.”
“There's not much time left. Jasnah Kholin will be leaving the capital soon, and taking the Soulcaster with her.”
Shallan wanted to ask why they didn't just steal the Soulcaster then, but she didn't want to bring up the topic. Meridas always became angry when she asked questions.
"It would appear that paying off your father's debts has not motivated you to complete this task, and that's understandable. I suspect you need a more immediate incentive." He opened the door to a side room. “Kabsal!”
Shallan saw someone moving in the dimly lit room. A bearded man dragged her brother Balat through the doorway and threw him to the ground at their feet. Balat's face was bruised and bleeding, and his hands were tied behind his back.
Shallan rushed forward, but Meridas caught her by the arm.
“Tell her what happened,” Kabsal said, speaking with a slight Herdazian accent.
“They killed Father, Shallan. They said they wouldn't hurt us unless we tried to fight them, but you know how Father gets when he's angry. He said he'd lived all his life as a free man, and he wouldn't die as a slave and prisoner.”
Shallan covered her face with her free hand. Her brothers were going to die because of her. There was no way she'd ever be able to impersonate Jasnah in the time they had given. She had already failed.
“Don't feign emotion over the death of that old fool,” Meridas said. “He's the one who sold you, after all.”
“Jushu and Wickim?” Shallan asked, looking at Balat.
Meridas held up the sphere lamp and motioned towards two figures huddled in the corner of the second room. “They're here, too. Bring the Soulcaster to us on the first night of next month. We'll be watching for any signs of treachery. If anyone so much as approaches this building, your brothers will die.”