She studied him. Then the sword burst to mist, vaporizing. She lowered her arm. “I don’t have time for you. A storm is coming, a terrible storm. It will bring the Voidbringers to—”

“Already here.”

“Damnation. We need to find Urithiru and—”

“Already found.”

She hesitated. “The Knights—”

“Refounded,” Wit said. “In part by your apprentice who, I might add, is exactly seventy-seven percent more agreeable than you are. I took a poll.”

“You’re lying.”

“Okay, so it was a rather informal poll. But the ugly lizard-crab-thing gave you really poor marks for—”

“About the other things.”

“I don’t tell those kinds of lies, Jasnah. You know that. It’s what you find so annoying about me.”

She inspected him, then sighed. “It is part of what I find so annoying about you, Wit. Only a very small part of a vast, vast river.”

“You only say that because you don’t know me very well.”

“Doubtful.”

“No, really. If you did know me, that river of annoyance would be an ocean, obviously. Regardless. I know things that you do not, and I think you might actually know some that I do not. That gives us what is called synergy. If you can contain your annoyance, we might both learn something.”

She looked him up and down, then drew her lips to a line and nodded. She started walking directly toward the nearest town. She had a good sense of direction, this woman.

Wit strolled up beside her. “You realize we’re at least a week away from civilization. Did you need to Elsecall this far out in the middle of nowhere?”

“I was somewhat pressed at the time of my escape. I’m lucky to be here at all.”

“Lucky? I don’t know if I’d say that.”

“Why?”

“You’d likely be better off on the other side, Jasnah Kholin. The Desolation has come, and with it, the end of this land.” He looked at her. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, “until we see how much I can salvage. The storm has come already? The parshmen have transformed?”

“Yes and no,” Wit said. “The storm should hit Shinovar tonight, then work its way across the land. I believe that the storm will bring the transformation.”

Jasnah stopped in place. “That’s not how it happened in the past. I have learned things on the other side.”

“You are correct. It is different this time.”

She licked her lips, but otherwise did a good job containing her anxiety. “If it’s not happening as it did before, then everything I know could be false. The words of the highspren could be inaccurate. The records I seek could be meaningless.”

He nodded.

“We can’t depend upon the ancient writings,” she said. “And the supposed god of men is a fabrication. So we can’t look to the heavens for salvation, but apparently we can’t look toward the past either. So where can we look?”

“You’re so convinced that there is no God.”

“The Almighty is—”

“Oh,” Wit said, “I don’t mean the Almighty. Tanavast was a fine enough fellow—bought me drinks once—but he was not God. I’ll admit, Jasnah, that I empathize with your skepticism, but I don’t agree with it. I just think you’ve been looking for God in the wrong places.”

“I suppose that you’re going to tell me where you think I should look.”

“You’ll find God in the same place you’re going to find salvation from this mess,” Wit said. “Inside the hearts of men.”

“Curiously,” Jasnah said, “I believe I can actually agree with that, though I suspect for different reasons than you imply. Perhaps this walk won’t be as bad as I had feared.”

“Perhaps,” he said, looking up toward the stars. “Whatever else might be said, at least the world chose a nice night upon which to end. . . .”