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On her bench beside Sebarial and Palona, Shallan watches the four-on-one she helped engineer turn into the slaughter of the two princes she has betrothed her future to and the one she is courting his approval. She curses herself for not seeing the loophole — that should have been her job — and glares across the arena at the supposed Knight Radiant Amaram, who has not moved from his seat. *Bastard,* she thinks, surprising herself with the speed and weight of the word. She refuses to interfere in Adolin's fight — he has decided for a reason that he must keep going — but sends Pattern across the stone to harass the man beating up Renarin. *Don't you get yourself killed on me, Adolin Kholin,* she thinks. *Please.*

Then somebody else drops to the sand.

Kaladin dashes across the arena floor, drawing in Stormlight under the bright sun where nobody will see it shine. He passes Relis, who turns away from the spearman as an irrelevance, then doubles back to ram his spearhead into the crack in Relis's vambrace. He puts his back to Adolin's. He tells Adolin he is here to play the fool; Adolin grunts a welcome. Kaladin asks for Adolin to crack Plate he can stab through. Adolin just asks him to peel one of the Shardbearers off. He does.

For long minutes Kaladin runs Relis in circles, just out of reach of Vinestance sweeps, until the Shardbearer turns to give up on him. He charges, hops into the air, and Lashes himself feet-first into Relis's back with every breath of Stormlight he has. Both his legs break on impact, the back-plate cracks across the shoulders, and Relis sprawls face-down in the sand with his Blade flung out of his hand. Kaladin sucks in another sphere's worth and lets his bones reknit. Behind him Adolin smashes Elit's breastplate open in a burst of molten light; the King's Plate gives a heavy gasp and the man behind it begins to back away on legs that no longer want to lift.

Kaladin reaches the half-finished Elit and clubs him doubled-over with a broken spear, then shouts him into yielding aloud so the highjudge hears. He demands Elit's helm from his hands at threat of a strike, shoves his hand up into it, and finds it grips like a gauntlet around the wrist. Now he has a shield. He charges back across the sand at Relis, baits him into giving ground, then doubles back to put himself between Adolin and the green-Plated Jakamav. The helm catches the man's Blade and starts leaking Stormlight of its own through its cracks; Relis joins in and thrusts at him over the body of Adolin's fight. Syl zips back to him on the wind.

For a few breaths Kaladin fights two Shardbearers at once with nothing but a stolen helm. Instinct and something below instinct guide him. The wind wraps around him. He could close his eyes and still dodge. He feels the winds themselves moving him, untouchable. Then his Stormlight runs out — the cracked helm has been drinking it — and the next swing puts his back against the wall.

Jakamav raises his Blade. Someone hops onto his back. Adolin, drained, having walked one heavy step at a time across the sand from a yielded Abrobadar, has grabbed Jakamav from behind. His Plate locks dead an instant later and they topple over together; Adolin holds on through the wrestling and lies on top of him in a pin.

Relis looks from the felled green Plate to the felled orange Plate to Kaladin and dashes across the sand at Renarin instead. Kaladin sprints after, weapon-less, body sluggish without Light. Renarin sits in the sand, drops his Blade, closes his eyes and lifts his chin. Relis hesitates. Kaladin skids in on his knees as the Blade falls and slaps his bare hands together around the metal.

A scream tears through the inside of the Blade — Syl's voice, an awful reverberation that shakes him through his teeth. He drops it gasping. Relis flings the weapon away as if bitten, claps both hands over his head, and shrieks — *What is it! No, I didn't kill you!* — and bolts through the door to the preparation room. His screaming echoes through the hallways behind him. Istow reluctantly calls his forfeit; only Kaladin and Relis heard the scream.

Kaladin returns across the sand to where Adolin lies under the still-pinned Jakamav. He retrieves his knife from the dust, sets it against the gap in the green Plate's helm, and asks the man if he is going to yield, or if he gets to kill his second Shardbearer. Jakamav yields, swearing. Istow calls the day to Adolin. The darkeyes roar. The lighteyes are stunned. Under his collapsed Plate Adolin is laughing himself silly.

Three full suits of Plate and two Blades are his by the bout's terms. Kaladin and Renarin hurry to peel the dead Plate off so Adolin can stand for one more piece of business. The king steps up to the rail beside the judge, one foot on the wall, and offers Adolin any boon for what he has done.

Adolin catches Sadeas's eye on the steps and invokes the Right of Challenge against him on the spot, naming the crimes Sadeas committed against his house. Sadeas stops, frozen on the steps. A murmur travels the stands.

Then Kaladin steps up beside Adolin and claims his own boon. He invokes the Right of Challenge against the murderer Amaram — names him a thief, a killer of Kaladin's friends, the man who branded him a slave — and demands a duel here and now. Adolin groans beside him. The king's jaw drops. Across the stands Amaram stands up, stumbles, and finally recognises whose face is looking back at him.

The king bellows for arrests. Kaladin grins — until he sees that the soldiers are coming for him.